WAIT FOR FOREVER
Author: Sky Samuelle
RATING: G
Ship: Chuck &Blair
Summary: Set during 'Pret-a-poor-Jenny', after the roof conversation. Chuck muses over Dan's admission and the dynamic between him and Blair before going to her house.
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" Look, I don't know how you feel about her, but I do know how she feels about you, and she was going to tell you until I stopped her."
Let it to Humpty Dumpty to screw him over even when it wasn't in his best interest to interfere. Some people just never learned. What it was about those innocuous-looking Brooklynies?
Frankly, Chuck could not care less about why or how Daniel dearest had got involved once more in his business… the only important detail here was to assess why Blair would listen to that waste of space.
Blair loved him… or at least she thought she loved him, Chuck Bass. Maybe. Probably.
Blair didn't trust him enough to get through telling him.
That girl who deserved to be treated like a queen, who commanded her minions like beautifully ruthless dictator had allowed herself to become cowed by the likes of Daniel Humphrey, whom she didn't even respect.
It was so strange, for him, to be feeling this way… angry and relieved, content but sad too.
The thoughts pounding into his head, again and again, relentless and impatient, were always the same, for all the length of the limo ride that would take him to Waldrof House.
If anything else, he knew Blair could find in herself to love him. Even if she didn't trust him or his intentions.
He could admit he had given her no consistent reason to.
When it came down to it, he didn't trust her neither, but then he didn't trust anybody that much.
He had never trusted anybody that much –Nathaniel was too easy and fickle, Bart too harsh and just too much of a stranger- and once upon a not so distant time, he had known he would never do.
Now everything could change.
He was going to Blair, ready to confess how he felt, how they both felt –hopefully- and then…
the games would end.
A new uneasiness rippled through his blood: he could remember each moment of rage or lust of their past vividly, he could picture the expression on her face shift from hard to soft while he put their feelings in words. Yet, his mind stopped there.
He could not quite picture the after.
Even before the fatal collision, when their affair was been at its most free of expectations or complications, their interaction was been all about the push and pull, her mock resistance and his insistent persistence.
It was been a game – enticing and yet subtly undermining- but it had felt more real than their week of idyllic playing house before Tuscany.
If they could not come back to that, how were they supposed to move forward?
He still didn't know how to be open and honest with her, and if their little bout of drama on the roof was of any indication, Blair had to feel just the same about him.
We can't do this. – the harsh truth hit him, cloaking him with a sort of unavoidable finality- it will destroy us.
He was tired of hurting her, of disappointing her, of seeing her to slip out of reach when all what he wanted it was to be part of her life, being around her, making her his.
For twisted as it was, this thing between him and Blair was cleanest, purest, most intense feeling he had known.
He didn't want lose it, to taint it, to witness it to decompose into nothing.
Someday, he would come to her without fearing her claws, and he would love her without despising himself for the humiliation of it.
Not today, Chuck knew as he got out of the limo and breathed in the chilly night air.
Today all what he had to give was an armistice, an allegiance.
It was ironic because for as long he could remember their friendship was been all about the taunting and the pretence of loathing, too.
Perhaps that was the secret: they had to learn to meet on a middle ground, to connect without collide to give into each other without suspicions or fear.
Perhaps. If they were even capable of that.
But it had to mean something, right? That after years of keeping his distance from anything and anyone she had reached him so easily, that the attraction between them had survived the betrayals they had inflicted on each other.
There it had to be a reason if the first time he had ever kissed her - the very same night he had coveted her innocence- he had experienced an instant of fearful wonder, like if in some way there was a first coming for him, too.
Chuck chose to believe that correlation between those little facts meant he and Blair had a shot to something true, something lasting.
If the day came, when they could come together without suspicions or ulterior motives. If he didn't screw it up again by gambling too soon.
Blair Waldrof wasn't perfect in his eyes, but even caught in her titanic struggle between fragility and control, she had managed to become both his goddess and his prison, his highest aspiration and the very mirror of his limitations.
She was worthy waiting for.