AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first FanFic so please review as I am very eager to know what readers enjoy, or what could be improved. Thanks for checking out my story!
Since the day that Lily had told him what had happened to his father, Chuck had been on a downward spiral. He'd walked straight from the party to the nearest bar and ordered a whisky. Then another and another and another, until he couldn't even remember where he was. Now he understood why people said that it felt as though their world had been ripped from beneath them. Chuck had never been that close to Bart and with Bart working overseas a lot, Chuck hadn't spoken to him that often. However, knowing that he didn't even have the choice, had he wanted to pick up the phone, hurt him more than he thought possible. A dull ache settled in his stomach; a mixture of the feeling of loss, shock and effect of the alcohol.
As he sat on the bar stool, drinking glass after glass, feeling the sharpness of the whisky burn his throat, he didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life, he was completely and utterly lost. So he did the only thing Chuck Bass knew how to do. Women. Chuck walked, or rather stumbled, to the nearest strip club and sat drinking not only whiskies but Martinis and beers and vodka: whatever he was offered by the various scantily clad waitresses. One of the many advantages of having the Bass reputation was that the New Yorkers would give you anything you asked for, knowing full well that they would be paid above and beyond the set price.
The women on the stage flicked their hips seductively, as Chuck looked on, rewarding them with the Chuck Bass smirk that had become almost his trademark. There were forty, fifty men surrounding him, yet in true Chuck Bass style, he was adamant that the show was specifically for him. Not the lecherous old men that sat at the table to his left, or the sad divorcee to the right. No, none of them. Just for him. Just as Blair's had been that fateful night a long time ago. That really had been just for Chuck. Initially, it had just been to prove a point, but they both knew differently. And confirmed it later on in the limo.
Blair may deny that night, but Chuck knew it happened. He knew because every time he shut his eyes, or lay in bed at night, he could remember ever second of it. He could remember the clothes that were ripped off, her taste, the feel of her curls wrapped around his fingers. He remembered every single second, and fantasised about it almost every night. Yet he wouldn't tell her. Couldn't tell her. Shouldn't tell her, ever, how much he loved her. The way she had laughed when he first told her he liked her; he wasn't going to risk the same reaction any time soon. She would just laugh at him all over again, make him feel inferior and stupid. No one was allowed to make the one and only Chuck Bass feel like that, but he had no control over himself when he was around her. She seemed to manipulate him without permission.
Chuck continued to sit in the darkened club for what felt like hours, drinking the night away, but still he felt nothing. The waitresses, the models, all of the women offered themselves to him. But nothing. Not even the tiniest pang of lust. He couldn't work it out. He could always rely on this place to sort his mind out. But not today. He felt like he needed to be somewhere else, like he needed someone else to help him in his darkest hour.
Nate perhaps. Despite their ups and downs, Nathaniel Archibald had been a constant figure in his life and perhaps he should turn to him. Chuck finished off the last glass of whisky he had been drinking and promptly left the club. As the air hit him, he stumbled slightly, but managed to hold on to the railings and steady himself. He checked his palm top and called the limo. He realised quite how wrecked he was but still drank the champagne in the limo; it was there, why not take advantage. Luckily, the driver had been driving Chuck for as long as Chuck could remember, so knew where Nate lived. If it had been down to Chuck, he doubted that he ever would have got there. With his mind how it was now, fluffy from alcohol, he had no clue how to get to the house that he had been visiting since he had baby teeth.
The limo slowed outside the apartment on the Upper East Side, the driver opened the car door and Chuck got out, only just missing a bang on the head. He climbed clumsily up the stairs to the door and was about to ring the doorbell, but realised that this wasn't where he was meant to be. It felt wrong somehow, but Chuck couldn't quite place his finger on it. He didn't like being so confused. It wasn't Chuck at all. Chuck half fell down the stairs and clambered back into the car, the seat still slightly damp from spilled champagne.
He rambled, partly to himself and partly to the driver, that he didn't know where to turn to next. But the limo started to drive, as if the decision had somehow been made by the truck behind them that was beeping its horn impatiently. Chuck must have fallen asleep as the next thing he knew, he was outside Blair's house. He knew not how he got there. Perhaps he had somehow managed to make a coherent thought and mumble it to the driver, or perhaps after 14 years of driving and observing the behaviour of Mr. Bass, the driver knew exactly where he needed to be.
Chuck got out of the limousine, glancing quickly at his seven hundred dollar watch. 3 AM. He didn't really know why he had come here. He couldn't work it out, but it felt the exact right place to be. Blair probably wouldn't be up at this time; he would look so desperately pathetic to wake her at such an obscene hour of the morning. Perhaps he should just get back in the limo, and get the driver to drive around for a bit longer. Just until he had decided the best course of action. Chuck turned around, so that he could climb back into his comfort zone, only to find that it had disappeared. The driver evidently thought this choice was not one that Chuck could make. He would have words later, at least he planned to if he remembered.
Chuck banged on the door, unsure if he should use the doorbell at this time. Of course, no one answered. It was the middle of the night. He pulled out his palm top from his blazer pocket and rang her number. The amount of times he had dialled the number, but never had the confidence to press call. Now he did. Not even a second thought – he wasn't sober enough to fully consider the consequences of his actions. It rang a couple of times.
"Hello", said a very sleepy sounding Blair, still sounding gorgeous. He could imagine her lying in bed with her chestnut curls splayed out across the pillow.
"Blair. I'm outside." Chuck replied, not knowing quite what to say, or what would be said in response.
The line went dead. Chuck knew he shouldn't have come here, and cursed the driver for leaving him with no way to get home. Not that he particularly wanted to go home to the house he had once shared with his father. His dead father. She was going to roll over, go back to sleep, and forget that he had ever called.
Just as Chuck finished the thought process from ringing her to being ignored, the door opened behind him. In the doorway stood a sleepy, but beautiful Blair, dressed from head to toe in Victoria's Secret pyjamas.
"I... I didn't know where else to go." Chuck said in a strangely afraid voice, that sounded nothing like the smug man she was used to.
"Come in. You need to sleep off that alcohol. On the couch has got to be better than the street, right?" Blair questioned with a sharp voice, yet still failed to mask the care in her voice.
Chuck felt Blair push him gently towards the main living quarters, and was plonked almost violently on the three seater. He felt his eyes getting heavy and despite wanting to talk to, or at least thank Blair for offering him a place to stay, gave in to the urge to sleep. Sleep was the only escape from the world without a father, and maybe meant that the alcohol could wear off slightly and allow him to top it up in the morning.
* * * * * * *
Chuck could hear clanging and banging in the kitchen, and opened his eyes to see what the commotion was all about. That was it. Death. Drink. He remembered it all from last night. So that noise had to be Dorota. He somehow managed to string some thoughts together and worked out where he was. Swinging his heavy legs around so they touched the floor, he spotted Blair walking in the door. She wore high wasted white trousers with a red blouse tucked in to the top. She looked, as always, absolutely stunning and made Chuck forget that his father had been involved in a fatal car accident just the day before.
"Thank you, Blair." said Chuck quietly.
"What for?" questioned Blair sitting on the opposite sofa just a few feet from where the broken Mr. Bass sat.
"Giving me a place to stay for the night. Not asking questions." Chuck lamely replied.
"I was doing what any decent friend would have done", replied Blair.
"You're not just a decent friend though are you?" Chuck almost whispered. He wasn't used to laying all of his cards on the table, and felt exposed.
"Chuck, don't start this again."
"You can't say you don't feel it too. Last night, I went to the club. I went to Nate's. None of them made a difference. And then I came here. And somehow stayed until now. That has to tell you something", said Chuck to the one woman he loved.
"So.. how are you?", Blair asked hesitantly.
"Much better for seeing you." Chuck replied and stood from his position on the sofa. He walked more confidently across the lounge area and sat next to Blair. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and let his hand stroke her cheek before returning it to his lap. Unexpectedly, Blair's mouth twitched into a small smile and she placed her hand on top of his.
"It will be okay Chuck. It's okay to be afraid of what happens next. But I am here for you. Even when you push me away, you can always return to me. In your darkest hour, I will be the light that drags you out the other side. I can only do that if you let me." Blair lightly touched the side of his face, using her thumb to gently brush away the tear that he had hoped she wouldn't see. "Chuck. I love you", Blair gingerly repeated the phrase that Chuck had rejected so many times before.
"Blair. I need you. And I'm sorry for not being here for you. I know it has taken me a long time to realise it, but Blair Waldorf, I believe I love you too."
Chuck leaned towards Blair, hovered slightly, and then kissed her lips, allowing the kiss to deepen quickly. He loved her. He did. But was he ready for a one-woman life?
Could it possibly be that the great Chuck Bass has finally let his guard down to the one and only Miss Blair Waldorf. Well, what will we see next?! The Upper East side really does take the most unexpected of turns. But how long we wonder, will it last this time? XOXO Gossip Girl
Thanks again for reading this, I hope you have enjoyed it. Please take the time to review - I'd love to hear from you, good or bad!