Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and the names presented in this fan fiction.
(Lorelai lies up in the bed, surrounded by five or six pillows, covered by a blanket. She looks awful, she is cold and she is very pale, with a red nose and a voice like coming from a tomb. She acts like she is feverish. Rory enters her room and stops at the door, looking at her mother. Lorelai has her eyes closed, like she is sleeping. But she hears steps and opens her eyes.)
Here they are. Enjoy!
I feel the autumn colors invading my veins; I am becoming one with the crisp air of the fall.
Mind games are interesting and I find them really challenging. I could do that, but not too often. People might get hurt. I might get hurt. Still, some evil part of me desires to be just like that: without boundaries and without conscience.