AN: Hello everyone, this was just an idea that came to me while I was watching MTV hits and Nsync's "Gone" came on. I had to write this.
For now it's just a one-shot. Review and let me know what you thought and if it should be continued.
What you need to know is that this takes place during the college years and the flashbacks are in italics (most of them take place in Chilton)… Enjoy the story!
It feels as if time is slowly coming to a stop. He's emptied his mind of everything but her. He's been trying his best to be strong, but failed when he came across one of her shirts in the back of his bottom drawer. She had forgotten it there after one of the many nights she had "slept over".
For about the past forty minutes he's been sitting in the same spot on his bed; on the edge, facing the door with her shirt in his hands. Looking down at the baby blue tank-top, he softly smiles. He can clearly remember the night that he had taken the shirt off of her.
"I still haven't understood why we're studying on the floor rather than on your bed," she says putting her pen down.
Looking up from his work he replies, "Because there's more room down here."
"Yeah, but your bed is so much more comfortable," she says seductively as she stands.
"Really?" he smirks standing up.
"Yeah, look," she says guiding him over to the bed and slowly pushes him to sit on it. Making eye contact she straddles him.
"Oh yeah, you're right," he whispers leaning up to kiss her.
Their lips moved against one another; massaging each other. Rory's hands anchored in his blonde hair as his hands rested on her hips bringing her flush against him.
A moan escaped his lips when she grinded down on him and flicked her tongue out for entrance into his mouth. She smirked into the kiss, seeing as how willing he was to open.
She ever so slowly glided her tongue across his; teasing him in a way to let him know that she was in control. If she kept doing what she was doing, then he really didn't care that he was at her mercy.
His hands were still at her waist but they were now playing with the hem of the baby blue tank-top. He raised it and lifted it up and over her head, throwing it somewhere on the floor. It was soon forgotten once all their clothes were off and they made their way into the bed with him on top.
Gently parting her legs he positioned himself and with one quick, long stroke he entered her. The friction that they caused for each other was simply mind-blowing. And when she raised her legs and wrapped them around his waist brining him deeper, he almost came right then and there.
The moans that she was letting out as he drove himself into her were encouraging him to quicken the pace and roughen the thrusts. Grunting, he pounded into her center; in and out, in and out. They, together, had built up a rhythm as one.
"Oh, God Tristan…" she closed her eyes and threw her head back.
He lowers his head and rests it in the crook of her neck; muttering incoherently. Driving himself faster, harder, and deeper into her, he brings them closer to the edge and once she squeezes around him and hugs each and every angle, they both free fall
Saying each other's names they ride out the blissful waves. As they come down from their natural high. He lets out one final moan as he slides out of her and lies beside her. He then gathers her inhis arms and they lay there; entangled in each other.
"You were right, the bed is more comfortable," he says breaking the silence.
"I told you," she says snuggling into him.
"Yeah, could you have imagined the rug burns if we had done what we just did on the floor?"
Her response was a kiss.
That night was one of the best nights of his life. He felt finally complete with her in his arms and love in his heart. But the love he had to give wasn't enough for her. He had some imperfections that she had thrown in his face; his past. And yet somehow she finds a way to keep him here; hoping that she comes back and that she has not truly walked out of his life.
She was the one that chose to walk away, but he's still sitting there…thinking about her. Thinking about the first time he talked to his 'Mary'.
Rory was walking down the hallway when Tristan makes his way up to her from behind.
"Hey, Mary.Hey, Mary."
She turns around," Me?"
"Yeah, you," he replies as they continue to walk.
"My name is Rory," she tells him.
"So, you're new?"
"Yeah, first day."
"WellRemmy's class is rough," he tells her.
"Yeah, it seemed very intense."
"You know, I could loan you my notes if that would help."
"Really? That'd be great."
They come to a stop, "Yeah? How great?" he asks, slowly backing her up against the wall.
"I don't know. Mr. Remmy said that getting someone's notes would be…"
"I could even help you study if you want," he suggests, partially leaning in.
Flustered she replies, "Um, I kind of find studying as a solitary activity, but thanks."
He smirks, "Bye, Mary," and walks off.
"It's Rory," she says to his retreating back.
She is such an independent woman; one of the many qualities he loves about her. And in the beginning when they first started off, she refused to bend. His feelings for her were so strong that he was the one bending. If she didn't let him in, then he would keep bending until he broke. But luckily for him, her feelings for Tristan were just as strong as his were for her.
"I can't believe you!" she yelled at him.
"What?" he asked her, truly not knowing what he had done.
" 'You have no idea what you mean to me' and 'I only want you' I don't know why I ever believed you," she told him. She turned around and began to walk away.
Catching up to her he grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him, "What the hell are you talking about?!"
"I'm not the girl for you," she said letting the tears in her eyes escape.
"Rory, tell me what happened…please," he begged; she was beginning to scare him.
"Duncan and Bowman… I haven't slept with you – they said that--" she tried to tell him, but her tears were now freely falling.
She didn't have to finish what she was saying, Tristan had heard enough. He was pissed that Duncan and Bowman were talking about him and Rory, but the fact that she took whatever they said to heart, completely broke his.
"You really do have no idea what you mean to me if you believe those bastards," he tells her, looking her straight in the eyes.
She opened her mouth to say something but he continued, not giving her a chance to speak, " I love you Rory," he finally told her, "And if you don't trust me, then I don't know why we're wasting our time. But what I do know is that you do care about me because if you didn't you wouldn't be acting this way … and I know that I want you and only you – you need to realize that … please realize that."
He had turned around and left her standing there by herself that day; crying. It killed him to do that but she had accused him of cheating on her.
But later that night there was a knocking at his front door and when he opened it, he revealed a crying Rory, "I love you too," was what she had told him – that night is also fresh in his mind.
Tristan continued to sit on his bed, waiting for an escape from the thoughts that were keeping him there. Thoughts about her, thoughts about how they used to be. He just wanted to go back to the way that they used to be; back to when the playful banter was involved.
"Hey Mary," Tristan greets her as he sees her coming out of a classroom.
"And it just keeps getting better."
"Oh you look sad."
"I am," she slightly pouts.
"Because you're talking to me," she sweetly smiles.
"You know what Mary," he stops her, "See, I can't figure out why we're not friends. I think it's because I make you nervous."
"I think it's because you can't learn my name."
"Do you have any plans this Friday?" he asks, ignoring her previous comment.
"None of your business."
"Is that a 'no'?"
"Is there no one else at this school you can bother?"
"See, I think you like me, you just don't know how to say it."
"So, what are you doing Friday night?" He asks her again.
"What, you gotta be back at the convent by five?"
"Please leave me alone."
"Well… since you said please," he says stepping aside, "Besides, pretty soon you'll be begging me not to leave you alone," he smirks. "Later…Mary."
He was such an ass back then. But over the years he had changed; he had matured and she had given him a chance. Tristan had promised himself that is she ever gave him a chance, he would not make her regret it.
But without meaning to, he had broken the promise.
"If I ever see you again, it'll be too soon!" she yelled at him.
"You don't mean that, Rore," he sadly looks at her.
"If you're going to finish packing that suitcase, than yes… I do mean it," her voice was racking as she spoke to him.
"Rory what do you want me to do? Huh?! I have to go!" he tells her, raising his voice.
"You don't have to go--" she says letting the tears fall.
"Yes I do," he says cutting her off.
"Then we're done," she states looking up at his pained face.
"It doesn't have to be like that--"
"Yes it does; once again you're listening to your father, you're letting him control your life--"
"What am I suppose to do? He's my father! And it's the family business!"
"It's a coincidence that your father hates me and the part of the business that you have to take over is in England…"
"What are you going to do about school?" she asks cutting him off.
"He got me into Oxford," he said looking down; 'he' referring to his father
"How lucky," she replied bitterly.
"I'm sorry," he didn't know what else to say. He was losing the love of his life and all he could come up with was 'I'm sorry'. He just wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her tightly against him.
She shrugs, "I hope England is worth it… because I obviously wasn't," she tells him crying. "I – I hope you have an amazing life, Tristan."
With that said she turns around and walks out of his room… out of his life.
"Rory!" He calls after her, but he was too late, she was already gone.
That night she had decided to walk out of his life. To leave all that they had been through behind, and give up on him… give up on them.
In the end he decided not to listen to his father and not go to England. Rory was much more important; he needed her in his life.
That night took place a week ago, and ever since then he's been broken, lost, angry… He is pulled out of his thoughts by a gentle knock at his bedroom door. Lifting his head he makes eye contact with his intruder…
AN: I hope you all liked this and please review, I really want to know what you all thought. And let me know if it should stay a one-shot or if I should continue it.