Title: Washes over me

Author: .amber lily.23

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino. Except for the song "Washes over me" by the No Angels.

A.N.: This is my first songfic and I hope you like. Since I'm from Germany English is not my mother language, so there might be some mistakes. I hope they are not too bad. No excuse just an explanation and you are welcome to correct me ;) Hope you like it anyway. Reviews would be so great :)

The dark room looked rather uncomfortable, but that didn't bother her. She didn't care about details like flowers or pretty cushions. She didn't spent much time here anyway. She was here to work, nothing more. She was good at her work that's why she got this opportunity to work here in Germany. She kind of liked this city. Berlin was giant and crowded, but at the same time absolutely anonymous. Exactly how she liked it.
Entering the kitchen, she turned the radio on.

I heard you went to France
Did you walk along the seine
Watched lovers hand in hand
Did you softly call my name

Upon hearing the first sentence, her stomach tightened. She hated this feeling, but she couldn't help feeling it. There was nothing she could do. Ironically her parents had named her exactly after the city she detested the most at this moment. And all because of him. She had sworn herself that something stupid like this would never happen to her, but it had not been in her powers to avert it.
Love simply doesn't play by the rules.

When you sat on a bench
After tuilerie
And remembered I spoke French
Did you have an ache for me

She was sure, he wouldn't remember that she could speak French. Maybe he would remember her, but he would waste any thoughts on her. She had never been the one, he had been interested in. She had it known all along and had never allowed herself to hope. At least not after everything that happened that one night.
But that hadn't changed the way she felt about him. She, who never wanted to feel this way, had to fall for him of all boys.

N' when the river of regret
Rushes passed your door
Will you give me just a thought
And wish you loved me more

No, he wasn't the type of guy to have regrets. Or to love.
She had never told him, what she really felt. How much more he had been than the crush, everybody assumed she had on him. But she had no regrets either. It was enough that she knew her feelings. There was no need to embarrass herself even more.

Well, forgive me if I dream
Or hold on to memories
But sometimes what might have been
Washes over me

She knew that there were pictures of them. From the parties they had attended together. Smiling and acting like they enjoyed being there. Sometimes she did. She enjoyed his company and the attention she got from him. Even though she knew they weren't for real. Just the fake face he put on to the whole world. Sometimes she was able to see behind this mask.
And it made her fall even harder.

Then in some dark café
Did you drink a glass of wine
The colour of my lips
After kissing you all night

She cursed that damn night. Because she could not forget it. Because she wanted to so desperately. Because it hurt so much to think about. Simply because it was her best and worst memory.
That one night, he had kissed her so softly and so sweet, that she felt something in her heart and stomach, that she just couldn't describe. She wanted to cry and hold on to this feeling forever. It sounded so fucking cheesy, but at the same time it was so damn true. But the memory of the night always follows the memory of the next day. The memory of how he told her that it wouldn't work out. That it didn't mean a thing.

And my hair was such a mess
By the time the mornin' came
You held it off my neck
Said you liked it best that way

He had often touched her. By accident of course. It hadn't meant anything to him. But it had given her goose-bumps. Love really sucked. She remembered the night again.
For the first time in years she had cared about her hair and had wanted something other than the usual ponytail. So she had gone for curls. She hated herself for having it done. She had been like all the other girls. Hated herself for having cared. That was not her. She never cared what other people thought about her. But not with him.
Once he had said, that her hair looked different. It had indeed been cut an inch.
Once again the feeling had tried to overwhelm her. But she had known that he had only guessed and wanted to make a compliment, which would piss off the brown haired girl standing next to them. Damn her.

N' when the river of lost years
Freezes at your door
Will you scate across your tears
Just to touch my face once more

Many years had passed, since she graduated from high school. She finished college in the shortest time possible and she was good at her job. More than that.
And still here she was. Thinking about her past and the stupid things she had done. She had thought that there was no never ending love. It was just a fucking cliché thing authors had imagined to fool their readers and make them feel good. But one again here she was. Still feeling that one feeling no other person had ever made her feel again. Only he could.
But there was just one girl, who could do the same thing to him. And it wasn't her.

Well, forgive me if I dream
Or hold on to memories
But sometimes what might have been
Washes over me

Sometimes, but very rarely, she allowed herself to think about what could have been, what might have been. Leaving her wondering if they could ever have bee happy together. She had known him like no one else. All of his fake friends had never seen behind his mask, but she had tried. But she had had to realize that love wasn't something you could learn. You couldn't get good at it by practising and learning. Love was not like homework. And for the first time in her life she had had to experience that she wasn't successful in something. Maybe that was the reason why she never dated, maybe she was afraid to lose again. Maybe she would never get over her first love.

What might have been
If she hadn't caught your eye
Would I be the one you'd never leave
Who would grow old by your side

They had been so similar. Rich and lonely. They hadn't needed others, they had had everything they wanted. They hadn't needed love. It was just a stupid feeling anyway.
But she had changed the rules. She had broken them by feeling something more. And now she still had to deal with the consequences. Then he had fallen for the other girl and she had felt horrible. She had hated her even though she had known it was not her fault. But she had kept telling herself that the brown haired girl had stolen him away from her. It had simply made it easier to deal with. The anger against the other girl had been stronger than the pain she had felt. She didn't know what she felt for them now. She just knew that he had broken her. And that he didn't even know it.

Well, forgive me if I dream
Or hold on to memories
But sometimes what might have been
Washes over me
Washes over me

It was washing over her. Maybe too often. She should live her life without thinking what might have been. He would have never chosen her anyway. She had seen the way he smiled at her. A smile, not a smirk. Filled with so much love. Something he did only for this girl. It was her who could change him into a better man.

I heard you went to France.
With her.

Because the prince always gets to kiss his princess in the end. And Tristan DuGrey always got what he wanted. Even a Rory Gilmore had to give in one day. And he did love her.
Maybe that was what hurt the most.
The song came to an end and she reached for the radio to turn it off.
She sighed and switched the light off, too.
Taking a deep breath Paris Gellar enjoyed the silent darkness that surrounded her.