❝ALL TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE❞
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter twenty-five,
Gilmore Girls — Season One

May 11th, 2001

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[ LUCY'S POV ]

TRISTAN PUSHES ME AGAINST THE DOOR THE SECOND IT SHUTS, and I gasp. His hand curls around the back of my neck, holding me captive while he plunders his mouth against mine passionately. I fist my hand into his shirt, yanking him closer to me so I can feel all of him against me once again. I've missed him and I think he's missed me from the way he kisses me.

"I've missed you." His words ghost over my lips, his hand tugging on my hair gently. I scoff against his lips, leaning into him again.

My hair twists in his hand, and I gasp in both pleasure and pain when he tugs gently. I reach my hands up to grip his hair softly, and he grins against my mouth. I feel an intense, throbbing pain in my stomach, and I kiss him harder to ignore the feeling. When Tristan pulls back, we find that we're both breathing heavily, and I squeeze his arm.

"You look nice," I say, my hand rubbing along his bicep. "Really nice."

"And you look beautiful," he toys, and I blush. "You always do, Blue."

He moves forward again, and his teeth close around my bottom lip. He tugs hard enough to bring another fusion of pain and pleasure to me, and I unexpectedly moan against his mouth.

He pulls away for a quick second, and I hold onto his neck while he closes his arms around my waist. I breathe heavily, and I take his face into my hands, feeling the heat in his cheeks as I press my lips to his.

Our lips crash together in perfect harmony. Our kisses are harder, more desperate than before, and our tongues fight against one another. Tristan moves his hands upwards, one hand on my back and the other against my face.

We begin to walk backwards, and I trip and fall against furniture until we reach the sofa. We begin to lower onto the sofa, and I allow him to lay me down. He continues to devour my mouth against his own, and I groan at the contact. I take handfuls of his blonde hair while Tristan presses himself against me on the sofa, his arm coming under my back to bring me closer.

I pull my lips from his to snatch some air before his lips find mine again, this time harder than before. He places a hand on my leg, my skin warm and aching, and my arms fall around his neck.

Tristan lifts me up slightly, and my legs fall around his waist as he drives forward with such force that I unintentionally moan against his mouth, louder than I expected to. Tristan smirks against my mouth and I feel him squeeze my thigh. Oh, my God.

We separate for a brief moment, and I let out a deep breath. My hands hold his cheeks and he pushes one last kiss to her lips. "I... I'm sorry," he breathes, and I chuckle, my hand curling around the back of his neck.

He's about to lift himself off me but I decide to bring him back down. We're crashing together again, and his hands are on the move again. They roam over the fabric of my dress, come around my back, all the way down and stop at the top of my thigh where my dress rides up. I grasp at his hair as his hips move against mine gently.

Tristan's lips leave mine, revealing that he was breathing as violently as I am. I'm still in shock with how this has happened but I'm not regretful. He finds my eyes and I nod carefully, allowing him to continue. His smile is warm and he's not wasting another second as his mouth lands on the soft spot between my jaw and neck. I tilt my head back just for him to have more access, and another sound leaves my lips when he's bites at the skin of my neck. "I'm so glad you're here..." he breathes against my skin. "So, so glad..."

He kisses a path up my throat, towards my jaw and against my ear. My hands still ache to explore him, desperate to run my fingertips over his skin.

My breathing is the only sound ringing in my ears. I tense, realising what's going on between us right now, and Tristan must notice because he begins to pull himself away from me. "Hey, I'm sorry, I overstepped I..."

I don't stop him from sitting up this time but I shake my head. "No, no. It's not you." I hold onto his arms, reassuring him. "I'm sorry."

Tristan leans forward, and he pulls me onto his lap, one arm around my waist while the other rests on my leg. "Don't apologise. We..." He pauses, unsure on what to say. "I overstepped."

I touch his face with my delicate fingertips. "No. You didn't, I promise. I really, really liked that, I swear."

Tristan brushes his hand against my cheek, and I smile when he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. "Yeah?" I nod, my arm falling around his shoulders. "I really liked it too."

My head falls against his chest, and my hand holds the arm that falls against my leg. Every little touch, every little kiss and movement makes me feel like I'm on fire. I feel warm, my stomach is buzzing and aching with anticipation of what's to one day come, and I push my lips against his jaw softly.

"Blue," he whispers and I hum, my eyes fluttering shut. "It's been six months."

"I know," I say, squeezing his arm.

Six months of bliss, of emotion, of love. These past six months have been a significant part of my life, and they always will be. In such a short space of time, Tristan has become one of the most important people in my life, and I'm so lucky to be with him.

I run a hand down his face, my fingers combing through his hair. The smile on my face doesn't falter, no matter how long I look at him. I admire how beautiful he is, how polished he looks, and I'm just in awe of him. I'm happy here with him, and I can't imagine being anywhere else but here with him right now. His hand moves up and down, fingers circling my kneecap as I press my lips to his again.

"Do you wanna watch something?" A kiss is pressed against my ear.

I hum, trying to think of a movie on the spot but I struggle. I scramble off his lap towards his DVD collection, trying to decide what to watch. I don't know if we should watch a romance, a thriller, an action or a comedy. I drag my fingers across the DVDs before landing on the perfect one. I pull it out, a wide smile on my face as I think Tristan will enjoy this film. "Have you seen Ten Things I Hate About You?"

"No..." My mouth falls agape because how has he not seen this film? It's a necessary film to watch. It's one of my all time favourites.

"We are watching this."

I fall back onto the sofa when the film begins to play, and I snuggle my body against his. His arm falls around my waist, and my head rests against his arm as we settle into the film. Watching a film with him reminds me of our first date, and a wave of nostalgia hits me because we've come a long way since then.

At our first date, I never imagined I'd be here— in love with him.

Throughout the film, Tristan's hand moves up and down my arm before eventually falling to my leg. His fingers move in lazy circles against my knee, my thigh, my arms, and the simple touches are enough to make me feel dizzy and tired.

He pushes a kiss to my head, nudging me to stay awake because Tristan has to get me home before eleven or he's dead as I've warned him. "You know, I think you're like Patrick," I say, yawning loudly. I reach my hand up to rub my eyes, not realising how truly exhausted I am.

"You think?"

"Oh, yeah." I yawn again, my head snuggling into Tristan's arm. "Heath Ledger is gorgeous, like you," I tease, and Tristan pushes a kiss against my head.

"Does that make you Kat?" he asks, and I shrug in response. I'd like to be as badass and as witty as Kat Stratford but I don't think I am. "But you're also Sandy, no?"

     I blush at the mention of our first date when we watched Grease together. I kept making jokes about him being Danny, and he insisted that I was Sandy, and he wants me to one day wear all leather and sing for him. If I do that, I want him in a cardigan.

     He's ridiculous, I think.

     "I can't dance so I can't be Sandy," I say, and Tristan frowns.

     He takes my hand in his, pressing his lips to my knuckles. "Come on," he whispers into my ear, urging me to stand, and I lift myself up and off the sofa.

     "What the heck are you doing?"

     "We're dancing, baby." He pulls my body towards his, and I laugh at the impact. "I'll be the Danny to your Sandy, Blue."

     I roll my eyes and throw my arms around his neck while he places his hands upon my waist, bringing me impossibly close. There's no music, making this moment slightly awkward, but we begin to sway nonetheless.

     I know he can dance to an extent. He took ballroom classes as a kid— something I laughed about when he told me— and he likes to show off because I can barely move without slipping. Tristan moves my body side to side, swaying his hips against mine, and I let my head hit his shoulder as I laugh.

     He takes my hand and spins me around once. Twice. Three times. The hardwood floor makes spinning easy, especially since I'm wearing socks, and I end up nearly crashing into the piano. Yes, he even has a freaking piano in this house.

I spin into his chest, my body shaking with laughter as he secures one hand on my back, the other on my leg. He lifts my leg up, and he leans me down, dipping my body so he can lean down and press his lips to mine softly.

     I secure my arms around his neck, pushing myself upwards so we're standing again. Tristan's arm falls around my body, his hand cups my cheek and he pushes back, holding onto me tightly as we get caught up in the rhythm of our lips against each other's once again.

     He parts my lips with his mouth to slide his tongue in and I inhale sharply, my hands pulling at the ends of his hair. When he pushes forward, I stumble backwards and Tristan catches me before I hurt myself. He silences my laugh with his mouth, and his hands rest on the small of my back as we move backwards towards the sofa again.

     I push forward, and I straddle his lap. Tristan doesn't object and he leans into my neck, dragging his lips over the sensitive skin. I hiss when Tristan bites down lightly on the side of my neck. "Sorry," he mumbles and I laugh at the feeling against my skin.

     I lift Tristan's head from my neck to haul him into a bruising kiss while he gets a grip on my hips to pull me closer. I kiss him harder now, with teeth, and I honestly can't believe how much we've changed in the last six months. I used to be afraid to kiss, afraid to have somebody touch me and now I'm burning with passion, with need. We ignite one another, burning slowly as the flame continues to fizzle and burst into the passion that we pour into our kiss.

     I shift on Tristan's lap, and his curse in response is buried in my mouth. I pull back for a second, breathing carefully, and I give Tristan a simple nod before I move towards him again.

     Our kisses turn messy, then urgent and graceless, and I get lost in the drag and slide and press of Tristan's lips, the sweet liquor of it. I push my hands in Tristan's hair, and it's soft and perfect. Tristan melts at my touch, wraps his arm around my waist and holds me there, but I'm not going anywhere.

     I kiss Tristan until I feel like I can't breathe, until it feels like I'm going to forget both our names, until we're the only two people tangled up in making a brilliant, epic, unstoppable memory.

     I pull back, my chest heaving and my body warm to touch. Tristan's hands fall to my thighs, squeezing them once before I shift off his lap and I listen to him curse and shift uncomfortably a second time.

     My head hits the back of the sofa. Tristan reaches out to take my hand in his, his fingers grazing my knuckles. I look towards him, a soft smile on my face. "Got a little carried away," I chuckle, my hand squeezing his.

     "So did I."

     We fall into a comfortable silence, and I shift towards him so I can lay my head upon his shoulder again. "Tristan," I whisper softly, and he hums in response. "Thank you for inviting me."

     "I want you to meet my parents one day," he says, and I peer up at him. "I know I've made them sound like the worst people imaginable but it would mean a lot to have you meet them. They..." He pauses, and I sit up so I can look directly at him. "They know about you because my sister brought you up at dinner once."

     I laugh, and Tristan shakes his head. "My sister really likes you," he says, and I'm relieved that he does.

     "She's a great kid," I tell him. "You're a really great brother, Tristan, and I do really want to meet your parents, I swear."

     "Yeah?"

     I nod quickly. "Yeah, definitely. I'm sure they're not..."

     "Oh, no, they are as bad as I describe them but you only ever need to meet them once." I roll my eyes because if we stay together for sometime, I don't expect that I'll only see his parents once. "Sorry, I didn't mean that, I just mean that they don't stick around much so..."

     "I know." I place a hand against his chest, reassuring him that everything is okay. "Do you ever get lonely?"

     Tristan shakes his head. "I have my sister. We hang out a lot so I'm never really alone."

     "It's nice that you have a sister, somebody else you can be close with. It's sweet," I say, and he smiles, pleased with my response.

     Tristan's arm falls around my shoulders. "I'm just as close with my sister as you are with your dad," he tells me, and I nod in agreement because it's true. Me and my dad are linked in the same way that he's linked with his sister. "Have you ever wanted a sibling?"

     I shrug. "When I was a kid, I did..." I pause, glancing over at him. "But now... I just like that it's me and my dad, and only me and Dad."

     "Yeah," Tristan whispers, his hand brushing against my cheek. "You're a great daughter, and you're an incredible girlfriend."

     "Shut up," I scoff. "But thank you."

     We sit together for the next two hours, sharing stories about of childhoods and our plans for the future. We joke about my fear of tight spaces, and Tristan admits that he has a shameful fear towards horses— something I couldn't stop laughing about.

     We kiss over and over again, and we dance around the house to our ridiculous guilty pleasure playlist. I sing poorly, Tristan sings with me, and we sing our duets in unsynchronised harmony.

     We eat dinner together— pizza and coke— and we try to watch another movie but we end up kissing and ignoring the entire film.

     It's ten-thirty when Tristan begins to drive me home, and on the way back, I stare and watch him carefully. I can't take my eyes off him, not even for one second, and every fibre in my body is screaming at me to say it.

     "Thank you so much for coming over," he says, his hand in mine as we drive down the street. "It was really great having you there."

"Thank you for having me," I say. "It was really nice being with you."

Tristan looks over at me when we stop at a red light. "You have no idea how lucky I am to have you, Blue," he says softly, and I smile warmly at the unexpected words. He squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," I tell him.

"You're the only person in my life who doesn't look at me and instantly assume I'm perfectly fine all the time because of the money my family has. You look at me and you just see me." He knows I don't care about the money or the status, I only care about him. I get to see the real him, something most people don't get to see, and I love that side of him more than he knows.

I brush my thumb over his knuckles carefully. "I see you," I whisper.

Tristan lifts my hand up and his lips brush against my knuckles delicately. "You're always welcome to come over. I really did love having you with me tonight."

Another kiss warms my knuckles and I lean my head back, completely relaxed. "I loved being with you tonight," I tell him, my eyes moving away to look out the window.

We drive in silence, the only sound in the car being the music playing through the speakers. Tristan doesn't let go off my hand, not even when we pull up outside the diner. The lights are still on, and I see my dad by the till.

I turn my head back towards Tristan, and he leans in to push his lips to mine. "Thanks for tonight," he whispers against my lips, pushing another kiss against my mouth. "I'll call you tomorrow."

I don't move from my seat, and Tristan stares at me, his eyebrow raised in confusion. "You okay?"

I need to take a leap. "Tristan."

"Lucy," he says in the same tone, and I swallow the painful lump in my throat as I look directly at him.

Take that freaking leap, Luce.

"I love you."

And upon saying the three words and eight letters, I hear nothing but silence.

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authors note:

sorry about the abrupt ending...

we love tristan and lucy but all good things don't last... SORRY... but it may not be the end...