Nothing is Perfect

Summary: He watched her fall backwards on the floor with a yelp and forced himself not to feel anything. Future Literati angst. AU.

A/N: This was sort of an experiment as well, though of a completely different kind. It started as a frustrated attempt to do something with a note that decided to give me a really bad headache. And thanks to an idea of a friend the evil note in a new form became the starting of this little fic instead.

I wasn't really sure what I'd do with it, but I thought about it for a while and decided to put it up. Can't hurt, right?

Thanks to Knowhere for assuring me that it didn't suck completely! :)

This one is to and because of Selina!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

2010-09-17

Last night was perfect. You know how to reach me. Hoping to hear from you soon.

- Brian

(P.S. I'm hoping you wear the contents of this gift the next time I see you.)

He had been sitting on the edge of the couch in their living room for over three hours now. Just staring straight ahead, not even trying to sort out his thoughts. There was no way he could make any sense of any of it anyway, so why try?

Why? That was the question that was running through all the other thoughts. Why? Why did she do it? Why had he not seen anything? Why the hell had she not told him?

That, he concluded was the part that hurt the most right now. And damnit, it hurt. Too much to even try to measure how much. But that she had kept quiet about it for a year? That part he thought was the one that stung the most.

The lie. Or lies. No, he didn't want to think that thought.

He stared at the card in his hand again. It was getting rumpled and a bit soggy after being held for so long. The date was starting to fade. The short message on it was quite clear though, no mistaking the meaning of it. Not that he hadn't tried, but there was no escaping the truth. It always came out in the light.

That much he had learned through the years. He really had believed she had known that too, but apparently not. At least she hadn't believed in it enough that it had made her think before acting. Not this time at least.

The sound of a key being turned in the door woke him up from his thoughts. Brought him back to reality. And made the ache even more real.

This was the moment he had been waiting for since he found the card. But now that it was here he didn't know what to do. How do you deal with this new reality? He had no idea.

He had tried for three hours now to find a reason. Remember something he had done, or not done, that might have made her do it. But he couldn't think of anything. Had he really done something that bad that she resorted to this?

Of course he had known they weren't perfect. But who the hell was? Surely not him. But damnit! She was supposed to know that! Did she really think he deserved this? He knew he could have been more open, less prone to keeping things to himself. He could have told her he loved her more, made sure he showed it more often, or more openly.

But the more he thought about it the more he began to realize that maybe it wasn't really his fault. At least not entirely. All his previous reasoning was based on the fact that Rory Gilmore was perfect. That she couldn't do wrong. And if that was true then it must be he who had done something wrong.

But he knew better than that. Rory Gilmore wasn't perfect. She could do wrong. And she had. This wasn't the first time. It wasn't even the first time she had done something like this.

It wasn't like she hadn't still been with Dean when they shared their first kiss. And from what he knew she hadn't exactly put up a big fight when she in turn helped Dean cheat on his wife.

But this still felt like a surreal situation to him. Not in his wildest dreams had he thought that he would be the one ending up hurt. The one who stayed faithful through everything, good and bad. The one that was kept in the dark. The one possibly being left behind.

He didn't look up when she entered the apartment. He just kept staring straight ahead, trying to keep his jumbled thoughts out of his face. He didn't want her to know how much it hurt. He didn't feel like she had the right to know how badly she could hurt him. How much it tore him apart to learn that the person he trusted the most had betrayed him.

She didn't seem to notice his dark mood and quiet air as she hurried inside. She discarded her coat and briefcase inside the door and yelled a quick greeting before disappearing inside the bathroom. Moments later he heard the shower being turned on and sighed.

He couldn't help but wonder why she had to take a shower the first thing she did when she got home. It wasn't the first time it happened either.

And he was no longer able to stop the thought he had suppressed earlier. What if it didn't stop after that first time? If it even was the first time. God damnit! How could he have been so damn blind?

But he knew the answer. He knew it too well. He hadn't realized it till just now, but he knew how. The image of his perfect Rory had clouded everything else. Making it impossible to see through the cracks that had started forming.

Looking back he could almost trace them backwards. Seeing almost too clearly now all the signs he had ignored before. All the small signs that together became one large truth. Words that didn't ring true. Worried glances. Hurried goodbyes.

She smiled at him when she came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her as only clothing. He could feel her coming closer and it didn't take long before she was standing in front of him.

He knew what she wanted. Or what she wanted him to think that she wanted he rephrased in his head.

He didn't respond even when she sat down on top of him, straddling him with the towel just barely covering her.

He sensed her growing confusion and fought not to give in to what every fiber of his being told him to do. God, how he wanted to just forget that card. Oh, the things he wanted to do, starting with removing that towel, exposing the body he knew every inch of.

The images that flooded his mind were almost enough to make him surrender. Forget the hurt for a moment. Once again drown in her, body and mind. It would be so easy to just let go for a second.

But he couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. Instead he recalled an old version of himself. The person he had been before he met her. Before he knew what it was to love. To be loved.

He almost gave a bitter laugh at that last thought.

The years gone by made it hard to slip back into the cage he had built for himself when he grew up. But he forced it in place, filling his mind with the rage he needed to fight his most inner desires.

When he looked up at her the transformation was complete. For him it felt like it had taken an eternity, but she still hadn't caught on. He turned his head up to meet her eyes. Brown met blue and he saw the confusion on her face turn into worry. He knew what was coming next.

Not letting her voice her question he stood up, not caring that she was in the way. He watched her fall backwards on the floor with a yelp and forced himself not to feel anything. Forced himself not to see the brief second of pain in her eyes. Not to see her now almost completely exposed body sprawled on the floor at his feet.

She looked up at him now with an expression akin to fear written over her face. He wasn't sure if it was him she was afraid of or something else. He told himself that he didn't care.

He felt the tug at his heart that her expression caused. And he told himself that it was nothing. That it wasn't his concern.

"You left something lying around," he said, his voice void of all expression, a hollow rest of what it had been just over three hours ago.

With a nonchalant flick of the wrist he let the card sail through the air. Without moving a muscle he watched it land on the now bare skin just below her left breast. Where her heart is. The brief thought almost broke open the cage he so hastily had rebuilt.

He clenched his jaw and watched with dark eyes as she slowly reached out a hand to pick up the piece of paper. He could see the realization settling over her even before her hand made contact. He saw her eyes start to flicker. Her hands start to shake. He saw her body stiffen.

And all the time he forced himself not to feel anything. He was just a bystander. This didn't concern him. It wasn't his world that was being smashed into pieces. As if it hadn't already broken.

He almost felt sorry for her when her eyes settled on the paper now in her shaking hand. As her eyes filled with panic and her lips parted in a futile attempt to say something.

He watched her crumple on the floor. Watched the pleading look that for a fleeting second took a hold of her eyes. Watched as the realization settled in that it was no use. Watched her break down at his feet.

He left her there. Without another word he left the apartment, walking out into the busy city night. The beauty of the setting sun felt like a mockery after what just transpired.

He walked aimlessly through the well known streets, no destination in mind. As darkness settled around him and the streetlights flickered on he found himself sitting down on a bench in Washington Square Park.

When his mind was no longer occupied with walking and crossing in and out between people, avoiding cars and buses and searching for the next possible turn he soon felt his walls break down. The hastily forged cage he had made turned to dust and he was left exposed once again to the truth.

The pain was almost physical and had he not already been sitting he was sure he would have fallen to the ground.

So this was what it felt like to be ripped apart?

A/N: The End! If you've got any thoughts about this you'd like to share with me you know how to do it! :)