gold rush ♬ {𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲}

ix. to define is to limit

They were about to go on their second date. I mean, not quite yet. As Emma asked in their first date, they were going to visit Tristan's grandfather: Janlen Dugray.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to if you don't want to. This a stretch in politeness." Tristan was nervous for everybody. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable or pressured or anything related to those emotions. We can leave right now."

"You're not going to not visit your grandpa. We're already here. And I want to meet your best friend, come on." She holds his hand and leads the path she didn't know. "Which way is it?"

They opened the room door. The hospital smell was less intense, because the windows were opened.

"Come in." A low voice said as they walked in. "Tristan! My boy!" He goes to hug his grandfather who was in a bed with a hundred tubes connected to him. "Who is this? Are you the she?

"My name is Emma Gilmore, sir."

"The she it is." Janlen had a big smile on his face, it was similar to Tristan's but with fewer teeth. "It's a pleasure to finally connect a face to the name. My boy was right. You are indeed very beautiful."

"Thank you so much." The young lovers were both blushing.

"What brings you both to these corners of the earth?"

"She wanted to meet you." Emma smiled in confirmation.

"He talks about me?" Janlen asked directly to the girl with the blue eyes.

"Yes. At least enough to peak my interest." She made a breve pause. "Your grandson adores you very much. It's visible in every single word."

"Oh, I know. I'm adorable." The room laughed.

"It must be in the DNA." She added glancing at Tristan.

They talked for a while. Janlen was a joyful person even surrounded by sickness.

"How are you feeling grandpa?" Tristan drove the conversation to the sickening topic of health.

"Better than yesterday. And tomorrow I'll be even better, my boy." He held his grandson's hand for a few seconds of affection. He let it go to speak again. "I don't want to keep you longer. You young lovely souls must be busy. But thank you so much for coming."

"It was very nice meeting you, Janlen." Emma spoke. The 'sir' was lost in the middle of the conversation.

"Goodbye, grandpa. See you tomorrow."

"Wait." He whispers, calling for Tristan's attention. "Don't mess this up. She's one of the good ones. Bring her again, will you? I like her."

"Of course, grandpa." He whispered back.

"Goodbye, Emma. Hope to see you soon."

"Same thing."

When they got out of the hospital, Tristan looked at Emma intensely.

"What did you think of him?" He asked.

"He's incredible. I see the resemblance."

Tristan felt as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders. It was relief. It was peace.

Their real second date was next. They were at the park having a picnic. Emma and Tristan were on top of a light checker sheet and surrounded by bowls of fruit, mostly berries, two cups, a small cheesecake, tiny pastries and a cute basket.

"What are your opinions on Dorian Gray?" Emma was waiting to ask this question for the whole day.

"Good."

"Oh, come on. Give me more than that."

"Really good." He teased her from a moment. "I enjoyed it more than I thought, actually. The story is so interesting and, I think this will sound very bad but, I relate to him."

"Who? Dorian Gray?" He nodded. "That's normal I think. Everybody relates to him, at least to a certain extent. Everybody wants to be beautiful." She took a bite of a strawberry, which is basically eating the whole thing, and got something on her lips.

"You have a little bit of strawberry on..." Even though he tried to explain where it was, it was useless. Tristan ended up cleaning it with his thumb. She shivered and not just because of the cold. "Are you cold?"

"No." She lied. He gave her his jacket anyway. "But then you'll be cold!"

"Hold me, then."

✯✯✯

"Let's write a love song!" Emma suggested in the middle of band practice.

"Never heard that one before." Dave spoke.

"It's just we only have two and our discography sounds kind of melancholic."

"What's wrong with melancholia?" Brian felt as if he was being personally attacked.

"No. No. Nothing wrong with it. We just don't want emo kids as our main fans when we get big enough to have a fanbase. I think we need a few stable people with good mental health."

"Who has good mental health these days?" Lane questioned it.

"I guess... somebody... out there... probably..."

"Of course. Of course." Rory spoke and looked back. It was perfect timing. A blonde girl was on the front porch.

"Is that..." Emma starts.

"Paris!" Rory stood up and walked to her classmate. "What are you doing at my house?"

How did she know where I lived? Rory wondered.

"You left this at class yesterday and I though that maybe you'd need it." Paris pulled a notebook out of her brown bag. This was a nice gesture, something shocking for Rory. However, it wasn't Rory's notebook.

"That isn't mine."

"Oh. I guess i'll leave then." She looked down. When did Paris Geller ever lowered her head? "Bye, Gilmore."

"Bye." But Paris was already too far to hear her voice.

Rory was startled. Paris didn't sound like herself. What was she doing here anyway? Was it just an excuse? An excuse for what? To see Rory perhaps?

Why would she want to see me? Rory wondered again. Her inner monologue was going insane.