Summertime
...
This was how she always imagined her summer to be.
Long midday walks in sunny Tuscany, sampling every kind of wine you could think of, and rushing into your chateau because you were both drunk. You eventually end up in bed and lazily wonder if you could leave everything behind and be like this, forever.
"I'll do it for you, Waldorf," Chuck said as he squeezed her hand from underneath the sheets. Blair leaned in and kissed him.
Chuck thinks it's because she's pleased beyond words. She was actually too nervous to say anything. She'd never, ever imagined her future with anyone else but...
"You're amazing, you know that?"
Blair kissed him again. And this time, she made sure not to break away.
...
This was how he always imagined his summer to be.
Liberating and carefree, drinking margaritas and smoking weed at ten in the morning, with probably the most beautiful girl by your side. You ride around East Hampton in bikes, like you did when you were nine. You gorge on cherry ice lollipops, wishing everyday would be like this day.
"There's a party at Jeremy's tonight," Serena said, her golden hair flowing behind her as they played on the swings. "We should go."
Nate nodded. "Come on," he said, standing up. Serena, probably still drunk from the mojitos, jumped on Nate's back. They both collapsed on the sand, laughing. While Serena was still reeling in from the laughter, Nate couldn't take his gorgeous green eyes off of Serena's blue ones. The reason was far beyond Serena. They reminded him of...
"Natie, I'm hungry. Let's go grab a box of pizza."
Nate sat up and chased after Serena. It felt good pretending to be nine again.
...
"Blair?"
Blair turned around, recognizing the voice and the familiar green sweater. She downed the rest of her vodka and tonic and attempted a smile. "Nate," she said breathlessly, almost like the way she said his name when they'd first met years ago.
"What are you—"
"Chuck thinks I'm still in France with my dad," she giggled, unable to contain it.
"You are in Brooklyn, you do know that right?" Nate asked concernedly.
"Serena told me you were with her in the Hamptons," Blair asked, changing the subject.
"I got tired of the sun?" he said sheepishly. She nodded.
"So," Blair started, ordering another drink, "how's your summer so far?"
Nate noticed that she couldn't look him in the eye. He sat beside her and motioned to the bartender for a drink. "Warm," he said, smiling. "How was Italy?" with Chuck, he was tempted to (and regrettably for him) bitterly add.
"It was," Blair trailed off, "Italy."
"Want to catch a movie?" Nate suddenly asked. "The local screening room's showing Audrey Hepburn movies."
"But it's raining," Blair pointed out.
"Who cares?"
Blair beamed. "I'd love to."
...
This was not how they'd imagined their summer to be.
In the middle of Brooklyn, running under the pouring rain, reaching the screening room only to find out that it was cramped with people. They'd order the terrible house coffee to just to ease the cold. They'd rent a room in a nearby motel and talk, just talk—no touching, no kissing, no anything else—just talk until the stars lost their shine and the sun took over the sky. They were tired. They hated the cheap motel and the smell of the rain on their thousand-dollar clothes.
It was the best summer of their lives.
...
Please review! :)