These drabbles are inspired by parts of Ted Hughes poems. I do not own the rights to these poems, or Gossip Girl.
If you want to read the entire poem, the title will be the title of the chapter.
Chapter 1
Fate Playing
...
You waited mistaken. The bus from the North
Came in and emptied and I was not on it.
Not matter how much you insisted
And begged the driver, probably with tears
...
His eyes stared dumbly at the thin layer of amber liquid that waited in the bottom of the tumbler, promising fire, then numbness. The last effect was all he cared for, but he couldn't bring his hand to lift the escape to his swollen lips. Shifting slightly, his bare ass rubbed against the fabric of his couch in a not entirely unpleasant way, and he desperately tried to keep memories from invading the moment.
Outside the windows, his beloved city cruised ahead. He could feel it in his veins, pulsing. But for the moment, Chuck felt quiet removed from New York. He was so removed that he didn't notice how much he was shaking.
The sound of his name being uttered brought him crashing back.
Standing, he frantically looked around his dark apartment for her smile, mussed curls framing her face. All he found was sickly tanned limbs sprawled in his bed, attached to a mess of oily blonde hair, but he didn't find Blair.
Blair.
The mere thought of her name brought his search to a stop and he remembered why he wanted numbness as he looked down at the intruder and thought sadly that his bed would never smell like Blair again. Her fragrance a mix of pomegranate and something he didn't think there was a name for yet. Something that brought his restless soul peace.
He tried halfheartedly to remember the blondes' name as she extended her sweaty palm invitingly towards him, but Chuck simply didn't care. He felt annoyed and angry, knowing full well that Blair would never looked as used as this whore did.
Turning away after giving her a sneer, he went into his bathroom and locked the door, and splashed cold water on his face. He needed to clear his head and think.
His dark eyes caught his reflection in the mirror and he gave an inward shudder, wondering how long it had been since he really looked at himself in the mirror.
And more importantly, when he stopped liking what he saw.
Of course he knew the answer; the minute the roses hit the trash bin.
Self loathing coarsed through his veins and Chuck truthfully couldn't remember smashing his hand into the mirror. He looked at the shards sticking out of his palm, red liquid framing them more and more by the second. He was only vaguely aware of the pain, and the urgent knocking on the locked door.
The only thing he could see was Blair's face as he imagined her realizing he wasn't coming.
The only thing he could feel was his heart slamming against his rib cage in attempt to escape to her.
The only thing that could ever fix him now was her.
But the only way she would forgive him for this abandonment was if she truly loved him. And the thought of Blair loving him, of being forever linked to his own black heart for eternity, scared and thrilled him at the same time.
A/N: I was reading a book of Ted Hughes poems and some lines in there just made me think of Chuck and Blair, so I decided to start this short drabble series. I hope everybody enjoys, I know there are at least 10 more I will do. Please R&R and tell me what you think :)