𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞.
gilmore girls universe.
𐙚 | B L U E ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
─── blue eyes like the sea on a
cold, rainy day
❝ 𝘉𝘓𝘜𝘌 𝘌𝘠𝘌𝘋 𝘉𝘌𝘈𝘜𝘛𝘠 𝘊𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘌𝘋 𝘓𝘜𝘊𝘠 𝘋𝘈𝘕𝘌𝘚 ❞
Luciana Danes is the daughter of the famous Luke Danes. Beautif...
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter fifty-three, Gilmore Girls — Season Three
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November 6th, 2002
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[ LUCY'S POV ]
I DON'T KNOW HOW I DID IT, BUT I CONVINCED TRISTAN TO SPEND OUR ANNIVERSARY AT A TWENTY-FOUR HOUR DANCE MARATHON. Actually, he agreed to it almost immediately, but I think he regrets it now because my poor, night-owl boyfriend is exhausted. His head lays on my shoulder, his arm cuddled around my waist so he can hold himself up while we walk across the street towards Miss. Patty's.
I hold my arm around his shoulders, keeping him against me as he practically falls asleep on my shoulder. Poor boy, I think, but I'm very excited about the dance marathon. Sure, it's a crazy event to participate in, and I imagine my feet will ache after an hour, but I'm excited.
I'm also overjoyed because it's mine and Tristan's two year anniversary.
I also think he's happy, but it's hard to tell with all the moaning, groaning and bitching about being up so early in the morning. Part of me feels guilty, but dancing for our two-year-anniversary is going to be fun. He doesn't even know just how fun it will be.
We arrive at the sign-up table just outside the high school where Babette is signing in the couples. "Morning, Babette."
"Oh, morning sugar. You guys look terrific."
That we do. Tristan looks absolutely gorgeous in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of navy blue chinos. I told him to wear trainers as his feet will hurt, but he's here with a pair of loafers on because I'm wearing the smallest pair of heels in the world. He said "if you're gonna dance in pain, I'm gonna dance in pain with you." And they say romance is dead.
I'm wearing a blue dress── no surprises there. It's a simple a-line dress with an obnoxiously large bow in the back, but I lowkey love it. Addy bought me this dress despite my argument against it, and I do secretly love it. It fits me beautifully, and I love how we look together.
We suit one another, I think.
"You not an early bird, hun?" Babette looks to a half-asleep Tristan, and I stroke a hand through his hair, shaking my head.
"No, he's not, but I just need to get some coffee in him and we'll be fine." He groans either in agreement or detest. Either way, I'm finding my dad and forcing coffee down his throat so he wakes the hell up.
