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I watched you sleeping quietly in my bed
You don't know this now but
There's something that need to be said
And it's all that I can hear
It's more than I can bear
-Rosi Golan feat. William Fitzsimmons "Hazy"
Blair is visiting Nate at the annual Yale v. Dartmouth game in Hanover when her breath catches slightly at the sight of the most beautiful person she has ever seen. She has always considered her ex-boyfriend and her sometimes best friend to be the two most beautiful people she has ever known, but Nate and even Serena seem to have nothing on this gorgeous stranger. His copper-tinted hair glints perfectly in the warm sunlight of fall, the perfect juxtaposition to his ultra pale skin. As she pulls into the visitors parking lot at Lord Hall—the three-story brick dormitory that Nate now calls home—the beautiful stranger raises his head to gaze at her, as if he has heard everything that she is thinking. His hazel eyes are even more beautiful than his hair, and he smiles a crooked smile in her direction before walking through the front doors of the dorm.
When she finally makes it through the grand doors of the first floor, Blair gets frustrated trying to explain to the RA that she needs a weekend-long visitor pass to easily peruse the campus. Nate comes downstairs, all tanned skin and lightheaded—probably from the prolonged years of smoking—to smile sweetly at his RA who now seems more than happy to sign Blair's permission forms. He graciously carries her Louis Vuitton luggage up to his second-floor bedroom with all the ease of a prince.
"I don't know how you live in a dorm, Natie. It's just so—" Blair paused for added effect, "small," when she got into the room.
Nate just laughed and went along with it. His ex-girlfriend was sometimes absurd. "It's not all bad, Blair. I mean, my roommate's pretty cool."
"Thank you ever so much, Nate," said a polite, silky voice in the corner of the room.
When Blair turned her head to stare at the beautiful stranger from before, he gracefully walked to her side of the room and held out a pale hand, outstretching it to extend to hers.
"I'm Edward Cullen. It's a pleasure to meet you," he drawled out, in that perfect ringing voice.
"Hi," she breathed out, trying to emulate Marilyn Monroe at her utmost sexiest. "Blair Waldorf," she added, while shaking Edward's hand.
His hand was cold, but he had just been outside in the fall weather of New Hampshire, she assured herself.
His lips curled into that delicious half-smile again, and Blair felt herself beginning to blush under his gaze.
"So," Nate called from his bed, "What did you want to do today? I could show you around Hanover, but there isn't a lot to see. I have lax practice in an hour, so Edward volunteered to hang out with you for a couple of hours if you don't mind."
"I don't mind," Blair said easily, and perhaps a little too fast.
"Then it's settled," Edward added, and his crooked smile grew.
It is several minutes after Nate awkwardly kisses Blair on the cheek before running off to lacrosse practice that Edward sits on his bed across from Blair—who is still smoothing out the wrinkles of Nate's comforter—that they begin talking.
Blair is—of course—still blushing. She goes through it over and over in her mind. She should not be blushing like a twelve-year-old at Constance, staring at Nate with wide brown eyes and innocent hopes of the future. His words interrupt her thoughts and silence any future ones.
"I take it you two used to date."
"Yes," Blair responds, yet doesn't know what to add.
"He doesn't talk about you a lot," Edward volunteers, hoping that Blair will choose to add to the conversation.
"I don't see why he would. I did something inexcusable." In her mind, she adds, 'but then again, so did he.'
His lips twitch with her words and she wonders if he knows more than he is letting on. This information usually bothers her, but Edward doesn't remind her of the callous men from the Upper East Side. She gives him the benefit of the doubt. His lips curve even more at this point, and now she has to wonder.
"What are you smiling about?"
Now it is a full-blown smile that takes over his face, and he responds, "Am I not allowed to smile in the presence of a beautiful girl?"
And then Blair just laughs, because how does the beautiful not-so stranger think she is the same as him? He is gorgeous. Even indoors, the harsh yellow light does nothing to deter his beauty. She feels frumpy in her too-big Citizens of Humanity denim pants and navy Brooks Brothers cardigan. She should have added the third coat of Diorshow mascara when she had the chance.
He seems to be laughing at her.
The next day, Blair wakes up in the corner of Nate's bed to find both he and Edward staring animatedly at one of their computer screens, discussing the details of today's football game. The details do not intrigue her, so she yawns, bored, hoping that at least one of them will acknowledge her. They do.
"Morning, Blair," Nate starts, all sunshine and smiles.
This bothers her.
Edward follows with, "Good morning, Blair. I trust you slept well?"
She blushes under his gaze and Nate turns to look at his roommate.
"Man, do you even know what you do to all the girls here, and now Blair, too? Geez, man. Give us regular fellows a break."
As Blair is stretching her arms out she begins to laugh. Nate turns his gaze back on her.
"What?" Nate asks.
Blair responds, "As if you were ever anything close to resembling regular, Archibald. How—" she decides to choose her words carefully, "plebian."
Nate looks confused, but his beautiful roommate laughs. Blair supposes that one of them got into Dartmouth on merit.
The three of them are sitting together at the football game cheering for opposing teams when Blair sighs audibly. Only Edward takes notice.
With Blair's eyes shut and nearly drifting, Edward nudges Nate on the shoulder and whispers, "I believe she would like some attention." He pauses, and then adds, "And quite possibly some hot chocolate."
Nate takes this as his cue to fetch some refreshments for the group, and Blair finally opens her eyes. She stares over at the empty spot between her and Edward and narrows her eyes at him.
"Where did Nate go?"
Edward replies, "I believe he went to procure a cup of hot chocolate for you."
Blair sighs again before saying, "That was thoughtful of him," while really wondering what has gotten into Nate Archibald and why it hasn't occurred before.
Edward offers, "You looked cold," as a seemingly suitable explanation. "You also look quite pretty, with your cheeks tinged pink."
This time Blair turns to face him again, as surely he must be joking. But there is no laughter in his face. He isn't even blushing. He seems quite serious until the end of his lip curls up into that half smile that she is beginning to love seeing. This is not a good sign.
She takes deep breaths before thanking him, but by this time, Nate has returned with her hot chocolate. She thanks him as well.
"It's nonfat, the way you like it," Nate supplies, before he places the warm cup into Blair's freezing hands. She absentmindedly wonders if Edward's hands are cold.
Nate hugs Blair goodbye before another lacrosse practice as she finishes packing up her belongings. Pre-season is becoming more frequent and intense, so he will be on the field for a good four hours.
When he leaves the room, she pretends to pile more things into her already full bag so she can prolong departing. When she turns around, Edward is looking her straight in the eye, his face an expression of seriousness and maybe even a hint of sadness.
Blair says, "I should go," before staring back down at her gold Tory Burch flats.
Edward asks, "Could I convince you to stay for an hour? Or perhaps two?" When she looks back at him nearly incredulously he adds, "But I do understand if you have previous engagements in New Haven. That would be quite alright."
"Umm," Blair mumbles, "no, no previous engagements. I can stay for a little."
Edward smiles, and Blair feels her knees beginning to buckle. He is across the room in an instant to catch her, and she would laugh if this were funny.
She puts a hand to her head as they both sit on Nate's bed and utters, "I'm usually not this girl, you know. I mean, the awkward one that—" now she's blushing "—lusts after her ex-boyfriend's roommate. I mean there was Chuck, but that was Chuck, and now I'm rambling, and oh my god, I sound like Humphrey. Shoot me."
Edward merely smiles at her, his eyes pouring deep into hers.
"I don't wish to shoot you, or to harm you in any way."
Blair hears his words, but isn't listening to him, because his amber orbs seem to be pouring into the depths of her soul. She can feel her heart accelerate at an unusually fast pace. She puts a hand there to steady it.
"Does this usually happen?" she asks.
He replies, "Does what usually happen?"
"You know," she waves her hand absentmindedly, "like Nate said earlier. Do girls usually get this way around you?"
Edward shrugs his shoulders, which are perfectly accentuated by a cream cashmere pullover, no doubt Italian in craftsmanship.
"I don't usually pay the Hanover girls much attention."
Her heart is beating even faster now, and there is nothing she can do to stop it. It's rather embarrassing.
"Breathe," he continues, holding his hand to steady her heart. Having his hand on her body only seems to make things worse, because her heart feels like it is about to leap out of her chest.
When he finally removes his hand, she remembers to take deep breaths. She is almost back to normal when he suggests walking around town. 'It can't be that bad,' she assures herself. When she looks back at him, he is still smiling.