Title: Tiny Vessels
Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls and its characters belong to Amy Sherman Palladino for Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions and Hofflund/Polone in association with the CW network. I don't own them, if I did Tristan would still be on the show.
Pairing: Tristan-centric. Tristan/Rory, implied previous Dean/Rory
Summary: Tristan DuGray is cold. He is lost and he is alone. During a summer that held the possibility of hope through a girl that went by the name of Rory Gilmore, he lost all. One-shot.
Authors Note: The song in italics is by Death Cab For Cutie and served as the inspiration for this piece. I really recommend downloading and listening to it as you read this or alternatively it is available on youtube. Just search 'phantomlolita' and a good version of Tiny Vessels should turn up. Listening to it, I believe really conveys the tone of the piece. That being said, I hope you enjoy it and don't forget to R&R please. It's like sustenance. I swear.
This is the moment that you know
That you told her that you loved her but you don't.
Tristan sat sunken in the hard wooden chair, hands cradling his head. He should've known better. But he couldn't resist. He was weak. A soft mew coming from the bed pulled him unwillingly out of his self pitying thoughts. He let his unfeeling eyes lift up and gaze upon her. She lay upon her side, letting the white cotton sheets wrap around her body as she slept on silently. Her glistening porcelain skin legs, poked through her self-made cocoon moving slightly intermittently as she readjusted herself into a more comfortable position. She was beautiful.
You touch her skin and then you think
Lifting himself of the chair, he allowed his body to descend onto the carpeted floor. He raised himself onto his knees, bringing himself as close to the bed as possible. He rested his chin upon the edge bed as he gazed upon her face. Her silky brown locks fanned around her, her cheeks tinged with a soft pink glow as her head rested upon the soft pillow. He reached out shakily holding his breath; his arm filled with nervous tremor and slowly allowed himself to softly brush his fingers against her face. She sighed contentedly, a small smile gracing her plush swollen rose lips and he ponders she was truly sleeping beauty.
That she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.
That she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.
Withdrawing back gradually, Tristan allowed the air to fill his lungs again. Sickened to the core at himself, he was overcome with the desire to wash himself clean of the night's events away. He stood up unsteadily heading with some profound purpose to the bathroom. Stopping at the door way, he allowed himself to glance back briefly at the blissfully unaware girl sleeping soundlessly, still breathtakingly exquisite.
Yeah, she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.
Tristan pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the shower door, closing his eyes letting the hard water cascade, smoothing out the knots in his tired muscles.
He'd never meant to let things escalate this far. At least that's what he tells himself.
His whole life, he'd gone through as the ever perfect socialite. Dashing good looks, oozing charm and sophistication, perfect grades, loaded with every dollar and dime from Connecticut to New York. Most people knew it was a tough act to perform. But Tristan had always played the part well. It was who he was, plus a whole lot more. He got what he wanted, when we wanted, wherever, however and whoever. So when one Lorelai Leigh Gilmore stepped foot into his world, needless to say he wasn't exactly primed for the adversity she placed before him.
I spent two weeks in Silverlake
The California sun cascading down my face
It was the summer between freshman and sophomore year. He'd just been for a swim in the lake, needing to gather his thoughts. Throwing his blue shirt on, he started making his way back to his parents' summer home. And that's when he saw her.
There was a girl with light brown streaks
It had been almost two years and a half since he had last laid his eyes upon her and almost two years and a half since he'd even thought about her. And there she was, her long shapely legs walking purposefully towards him. Time had been more than kind to her. The scorching sun shimmered in her light brown hair. It was shorter he had mused making her seem more mature than her years. She had finally stopped in front of him. Neither of them had spoken a word, just taking in the other's presence. After a long silence, an unexpected large smile had graced her features. Her whole face had lit up and she had suddenly thrown her arms around him. Needless to say he was stunned, and didn't move to hug her back.
"It's good to see you Tristan," she had whispered into his ear, eventually removing her arms and moving back into her own space.
And she was beautiful but she didn't mean a thing to me.
Still Tristan had said nothing, still basking in her presence. Her face still portrayed her innocence, her ever elegant porcelain skin still tinged with a natural pink upon her cheeks. Her bright blue eyes still sparkled with curiosity and question. Yet she came across more confident, older and maturer. She was more beautiful than ever before.
He had finally smiled back, "It's good to see you too, Mary."
And she had laughed.
Yeah she was beautiful but she didn't mean a thing to me.
Rory Gilmore. That was her name and yet the person he saw was not. The girl he had once tormented was no longer. He had wondered briefly what happened to the innocent young girl he had known. When she had first treaded tentatively into the halls of Chilton, he knew then that she was different. She was unlike no other. She was not one of them. She was not vain. She was not rich. She was not in need of the assurance of others. She had come in bubble wrapped from her small town world oblivious to all those around her. A new kind of Mary. Something he had never experienced. Something he desperately wanted to. To understand her world. To be oblivious. To be like her, if only just for a second. To be with her. To love her.
Of course things didn't take its usual course and before he knew it he was taken from her. Military school was supposed to shape him up. Mould him into the man he was supposed to be come. It had done the job. If only too well. Hardened him from the inside. He had always been cold. But now it was no longer just exterior. He hid it well from the world & nobody ever knew. So when he saw her again, he allowed for the briefest moment for himself to hope that she would be able to make him feel again. She would be able to save him.
She was here for the summer. Staying with her grandmother at the Gilmore Summer Villa. And from the moment those words uttered from her lips he knew that she was the Mary he once knew was no more. Yet he still clung on.
She had confided in him. Her thoughts. Her deepest fears. Her dreams. Her hopes. Her life. And he had listened greedily, reveling in the fact he was finally entering her world.
And so they had glided together never leaving each other sides for a moment throughout the summer long. She had clung on to him, presuming him to be her savior. Her knight in shining amour. Not knowing he was desperately craving the same from her. She had been broken. And it lay upon his shoulders to pick up the pieces. And so he whispered the lies that she would be alright, closing himself off until she was ready to listen. Ready to help him break from the cold chasm he found himself lost in.
But she never was.
Wanted to believe in all the words that I was speaking
As we moved together in the dark
They had opted to go out for a walk where they had been reunited for their last night together away from the real world. From Stars Hollow. From Hartford. From Yale. From Princeton. From Dean and Lindsay. From his whole life. The air was stuffy, humid and damp. The last of the summer rains had just been. The sweet smell of honey suckle had filled the air. She was sitting upon the tiny jetty, her feet sadly dipping into the edge of the cool lake, mindlessly staring into the fire orange depths of the sky. And it was then Tristan realised she would never really be the same again. She was a new Rory Gilmore. She was changed. For once you were broken, you could never heal to the same person you once were.
He had walked up silently, not making a sound. But she had sensed his presence and relaxed her body to let him know that she knew he was there. Crouching down he sat himself behind her, intertwining his legs with hers and pulled her back softly into his chest.
"It's beautiful out tonight, don't you think?" she had stated simply wrapping his hands in hers.
"Yes it is." Was his only reply. His grip tightened on her, as the possibility dawned on him that she might not be able to help him. He closed his eyes painfully. His mind refused to acknowledge the prospect. They just needed to connect on another level.
And so he whispered the worst lie of all.
"Rory … I love you."
And all the friends that I was telling
And all the playful misspellings
They had made their way slowly to a local hotel. Neither wanted to face the prospect of being interrupted. They had kept stopping every now and again to kiss passionately. His friends had walked by grinning but chose not to say anything. He had informed them earlier she was just another conquest and they had not chosen to question it.
Before they both knew it, they were entering a small yet cosy hotel room. Tristan had walked over to the sliding door leading onto the balcony. Now that he was here he wasn't sure what he was actually getting into. This was Rory. Not some sleazy floozy. He placed his hands onto the railing, sighing deeply as he stared out into the depths of the black lake. Suddenly he felt Rory wrapped her thin arms around his waist from behind.
Reaching up onto her tip-toes she whispered hotly, her lips brushing against the tip of his ear, "Make love to me Tristan"
And every bite I gave you left a mark
He was tentative at first, gently tasting and tracing her softness with his tongue as he showered light kisses over her breasts, exploring all of her. Softly sucking and biting lightly all over her beautiful body. But as time passed the stronger his desire for him to feel something other than cold became. He wanted to bury himself inside her. Lose and find himself within her all in one moment. And so he had slowly begun to lose control.
Tiny vessels oozed into your neck
And formed the bruises
That you said you didn't want to fade
They had lain together afterwards. Tangled up in the sheets facing each other. Staring at one other. It was only then that he noticed the beginnings of bruises were starting to form upon her neck. He reached with a shaking finger to trace the small blood vessels on her warm skin that were swelling more than they should've been.
"I hurt you. I'm sorry," he had murmured.
She had shaken her head slightly, "No. Everything about this was right."
"But you're bruising." He had protested.
Rory had smiled softly in return. "Good. They make it all the more real. Not just a dream. I don't want them to ever fade away."
But they did and so did I that day
He stepped out of the shower, grabbing the large fluffy white towel hanging upon the rack. He slowly dried himself, wanting to delay the inevitable as long as possible. Wrapping the towel around his waist he made his way over to the sink, turning on the tap, he splashed the ice-cold water onto his burning face. She hadn't been able to save him. She couldn't. He realised that now. Lifting his head he stared into the mirror, face dripping, gazing into the dead cold eyes that surveyed him back. His only hope gone. Dead. He would remain lost in the ice cold abyss forever.
All I see are dark grey clouds
In the distance moving closer with every hour
Fully dressed now he found himself upon the balcony again staring out in the distance. The storm clouds approaching seemed almost ironical at this point. For the storm within himself had long passed. Then again maybe not. He had honestly thought that it would eventually work out between them. That he would actually fall in love with her. That he would be able to feel anything but cold. It wasn't her fault. He'd been overwhelmed by her beauty and past memories. He forgot that with time people change. And he was the perfect example of that. She was lost almost just as much as he was. But there was still hope for her. There was no saving him. He was just sorry that he'd used her in the process of figuring that out.
So when you ask "was something wrong?"
"Tristan?" Rory whispered from the bed, the questioned laced within her voice. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly, heavy with sleep.
That I think "you're damn right there is but we can't talk about it now.
No, we can't talk about it now."
Tristan stiffened frozen by her unexpected voice. Willing his muscles to relax he turned himself to face Rory, forcing himself to smile, praying it would come off as sincere.
"Shhh. Everything is okay. Just get some sleep Rory." Tristan replied his voice hoarse, not able to bring himself to tell her the truth.
Rory sated, smiled back softly, the lingering question fading from her eyes, as she started to head back into slumberland.
So one last touch and then you'll go
And we'll pretend that it meant something so much more
But it was vile, and it was cheap
Slowly he gently traced the contours of her porcelain face with the base of his thumb, caressing down until her reached the bruised tiny vessels. He swallowed hard. God she was beautiful. God he was so sorry that things had ended up this way. She stirred slightly causing him to draw away quickly. He wished that he had felt something. Anything. Oh God how he wished.
He started making his way to the door. He could pretend that it was okay. Like he'd been doing all summer. Oh how he could pretend. But it wouldn't be fair. Not to her. Not to Rory. She deserved so much more. She was sunshine and light. Pure and innocent. She deserved to love and be loved whole heartedly. He was ice and blackness. He would only contaminate her. Contaminate her mind. Her heart. Her soul. Her beauty. Because all in all, she was truly beautiful. Yes she was.
And you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me
Yeah you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me
And with that last thought, Tristan closed the hotel door silently, his feet carrying him away down the hallway, leading him to remain lost in that cold abyss.
End Author's Note: Well what did you think? I know a little angsty. I am usually all in favor of the happy-ending but I think the song truly speaks for itself. I promise any future stories by myself will end more happily for the gorgeous Trory couple.
Also I would like to mention that I have not forgotten my other story 'Leaving Normal'. I will finish it. I'm not a fan of unfinished stories. I have been away these past 2 months and have only just got back. I had this story stored away on my comp, but was unsure in posting it. I couldn't decide if I liked it or not. But since I've been with the lack of updates I thought hell with it and let the pieces fall and see where they land. Until later --Amira