The Forgotten Gilmore

Chapter Seventeen: Late Night Confessions

Beau gif for once😝

Riley's dorm room was dimly lit, the soft glow from his desk lamp casting shadows on the walls, accompanied by the faint hum of traffic from the streets outside. It was the kind of evening where the chill in the air made you want to stay inside, but the company was what really kept Beau there. Riley was sprawled on his bed, flipping through the sports section of the Yale Daily News magazine, while Beau sat on the floor against the bed, absently strumming a few chords on Riley's old acoustic guitar.

"You ever think about how they make these guys look ten feet tall?" Riley said, tossing the Yale newspaper onto his nightstand, referring to the airbrushed photos of young hockey players on the glossy pages. "I swear, I played against this guy once. He's, like, five-foot-nine at best."

Beau chuckled, setting the guitar down. "It's all about the angles, man. You should know that. Besides, they'd probably do the same for us if anyone cared enough to make us poster boys."

Riley snorted. "Yeah, sure. 'Harvard's own: The Black Cat and the Sunshine Kid.'"

Beau grinned at the nickname, knowing Riley's teasing was his way of showing affection. "Catchy. I'd buy that poster." He nudged Riley's leg with his shoulder, his smile lingering.

For a moment, the room fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the old dorm building settling. Beau leaned back, closing his eyes briefly, savoring the rare quiet. It was moments like this that he cherished—away from the chaos of practice, classes, and everything else that constantly demanded his attention.

Riley glanced at him, noticing the way Beau's usually energetic demeanor had quieted. "You okay?" he asked, his voice softer, lacking the usual sarcastic edge.

Beau opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. "Yeah, I'm good. Just thinking." He hesitated, a hint of vulnerability flashing in his eyes. "You ever feel like... no matter how many people are around, you're still on your own?"

Riley leaned back, crossing his arms. "Every damn day."

Beau let out a short laugh, though it lacked its usual brightness. "Yeah, same. I guess I just—I dunno. My family was never the touchy-feely type, you know? We were more 'hey, good job' from a distance and less 'come here, let's talk about our feelings.'" He made a dramatic face, trying to brush it off with humor. "It's like, hugs? Never heard of 'em."

Riley smirked, but there was an understanding behind his eyes. "Mine either. Guess that's why I'm such a joy to be around." He tried to keep his tone light, but Beau could sense the truth in his words.

"Yeah, well, at least we turned out mostly normal. Ish," Beau joked, nudging Riley's leg again. "But sometimes... I dunno. You ever just want someone to look at you and, like, really see you? Not the 'you' on the ice or the 'you' with all your walls up, but just... you?"

Riley's eyes met Beau's, the air between them charged with something more intense than their usual banter. They were past the stage of confusion; it was clear now that the feelings they had been trying to ignore were right there, undeniable. Both of them were aware of the pull between them, a magnetic force that seemed to be pulling them closer.

Riley took a breath, his voice soft but firm. "... I see you."

Neither moved, the weight of the moment heavy in the room. Beau's usual playful demeanor faltered slightly as he looked at Riley, his smile wavering. Riley's breath came a bit faster, his gaze locked on Beau's. It was as if they were both holding back, trying to keep themselves from crossing a line they weren't sure they were ready to cross, but couldn't entirely ignore either.

Beau's hand still held Riley's wrist, his grip gentle but lingering. Riley's heart raced, the warmth of Beau's touch sending a shiver through him. There was a tension in the room that was almost palpable, a silent acknowledgment of their feelings that neither wanted to fully confront just yet.

Beau's gaze remained locked on Riley's. "Man, I must sound like a total sap," he said with a self-deprecating smile. "What is this, therapy hour?"

Riley's eyes softened. "Nah. We all got our stuff. Doesn't hurt to talk about it sometimes."

"You're not alone, you know," Riley added, softer this time. "Even if it feels like it sometimes."

Beau glanced up, meeting Riley's gaze. "Yeah. I know." He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Same goes for you, Brooding Black Cat."

They shared a look, one that lingered just a beat too long. It was like they were both waiting for something to happen—something unspoken, something neither of them was quite ready to acknowledge.

Beau cleared his throat and shifted his gaze away, trying to dispel the charged atmosphere. "Well, I guess I'd better head back to my dorm before I overstay my welcome."

Riley gave a small, almost reluctant smile. "Yeah, probably a good idea."

As Beau stood up, Riley followed him to the door. They exchanged a final, lingering look, the unspoken words hanging between them. Neither was quite sure what to make of the moment, but both knew it had changed something.

Beau gave a half-hearted wave as he stepped out, and Riley closed the door behind him, leaning against it as he tried to process the whirlwind of emotions that had just swept through the room.