Do You See Her Face? (A Jess Mariano Fanfiction)

A Dash of Morticia

Disclaimer: All Gilmore Girls content belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino.

*Warning: This chapter contains depictions/descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks. Please proceed with caution.*

. . .

A few stray streaks of blue paint had dried on her forearms, but Ella was eager to get home and had done a haphazard job of washing up after class. She had sent the kids home with their final projects, the extra time at the end of the day used for free painting time. It was bittersweet to say goodbye to the kids she had spent all three months with, exploring all different mediums through the summer art program at the college. But she was glad to be only two weeks away from the beginning of her final year of grad school. The end of her time as a student was so close, she could almost taste it. Still, though, she found it hard to believe at some point her life wouldn't be dictated by study guides and test scores.

Her keys stuck slightly in the lock, as they always did, as she entered the apartment. The clock read half past six already; Ella had been too caught up clearing out her room at the college to leave anywhere near on time. The walk home had been calming, the sky just beginning to turn a pinkish orange hue. Her heart was light as she set her keys on the counter and bag on the coat rack. Jess sat on the couch with the third draft of his book in his hands, a crease of concentration between his brows and a red pen in his hand. He hadn't looked up at the sound of her coming in, but she wasn't surprised. Lately, he had been totally absorbed in his work.

Over the course of the summer, she had watched his nerves growing over the new project. Though she did her best, she found it hard to understand why. He had already sent preliminary published copies out to certain vendors, and most responses were enthusiastic. The more she found him startling awake in the middle of the night, or snapping at herself or their friends over the smallest things, or growing quiet at things he would normally have spoken to her for hours about, the more she suspected his behavior had little to do with the book. Even when he wasn't working on his writing, he was stand-offish. Distant. It was though he was somewhere else. A place which made his hands shake and his eyes dart around anxiously.

She chewed at her thumb nail as she approached the couch. The longer she felt out of the sync with him, the more frustrated she grew. If it had been anybody else, she would have told him off months ago. But she knew she needed to be patient. Each time she felt the old, familiar anger rise in her throat, she reminded herself of where they had come from and the way he always listened. But she would be lying to herself if she didn't admit her faith in his ability to recognize what had been going on with him for more than just the past few months was wavering.

Letting out a small sigh, she plopped down on the couch next to him and ran her nail-bitten fingers through the ends of his hair, her hand on the back of his neck.

"Hey, cutie," she said quietly.

Still, he didn't look over at her. But he let a small smile cross his lips. "Hey."

"We got Thai last week, so do you wanna get Chinese or Mexican tonight?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not that hungry."

Ella furrowed her brows and scoffed in disbelief. "But we always get takeout on Friday. It's universal law!"

"Well, you pick," he said, underlining something on the page.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she took a long pause and a deep breath. "Jess, just take a break. You'll make yourself nauseous reading it over and over again."

"You're one to talk," he shot back distractedly.

"At least look at me," she continued, insistent.