A/N: This started out as a drabble and then it just kept going…so, enjoy! =D

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended. Unbeta'd, my apologies!

…

She sat alone in her room, restless. She paced the room, sometimes for a few brief seconds pausing to see how far Dorota had gotten on packing her suitcase. She'd be taking a lot of stuff to France, most of which her daddy could probably just buy her there. Still, it seemed the only thing that would take up her time between now and when the jet would be available.

Her whole world had fallen apart, but somehow the gash that bled the most was Chuck's rejection of her. For the first time in months, she actually cared what he thought of her, and everything she'd feared during their secret affair if she should develop real feelings for him had come spilling out tonight. After how forward he'd been since the morning after he'd taken her virginity, she didn't want to believe it was true. She was crossing her fingers that he was just trying to hurt her because she'd denied him so many times. But this was Chuck Bass. She had cause to believe everything he'd said tonight was the truth about how he felt about her. Everything else had been a cruel game.

I don't want you anymore, and I can't see why anyone else would.

She shivered. It was nowhere near freezing in the room, but she still felt chilled to the bone. Chuck had always been there for her during her most fragile times when Nate was distracted or she and Serena were in the midst of a tiff. And now even he didn't want her anymore. The only one she had left was her daddy.

It was not lost on her that it had not been until Chuck had rejected her that she decided to flee the country, however much she wanted to deny it. She was good at being in denial. Serena was a testament to that. In fact, ever since she'd risked getting back together with Nate she'd been in perfect denial of everything Chuck. Now she couldn't deny anything. She'd deserved this from the start. She couldn't blame Chuck solely for what had happened that night, because it had been mutual. So had their whole affair following. Now he was just giving her the full load of everything she'd thrown onto him in the past weeks. She doubted it had hurt him this bad though. She felt as though she almost couldn't breathe.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

And there he was in her doorway, lounging against the frame, his hands snug in his pockets. Her greatest nightmare and yet her dream come true. It was so clear to her when she'd lost everything.

"Who let you in?" she demanded. It was instinct, she realized, to yell at him. Given everything that had happened between them that night, she highly expected in hindsight that she would have been frozen still, unable to move because the greatest cause of her pain was standing right in front of her.

"I did," he said. "You didn't tell Dorota, did you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "If you're here to push me even further into the ground with your cold, heartless words, you're wasting your time. I'm leaving within the hour."

His eyes zipped to the half-full open suitcase on her bed, then back to her. "You're leaving?" he asked, comprehension completely going over his head. "Because of what I said?" He gawked, but a heartbeat later his face smoothed over into a haughty grin. "I must say, Waldorf, I'm flattered, but I didn't think you'd break so easily."

She resisted the urge to curl her hands into tight fists. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her breathing steady and just make it through this horrible conversation. She did not need this right now. What she needed was for him to leave and for her to get to France as soon as possible, to where her daddy could hold her for hours and where she could forget New York and the Upper East Side, at least for awhile.

"Are you done?" she asked through gritted teeth. It was not good, she decided, that her emotions were rising to the surface so soon, but ever since she'd fallen apart in front of her mother, she'd been unable to really reign everything back in and put on a brave face, even to spite him and pretend he wasn't the cause of her pain.

"Or do you have more demeaning words to spew at me that will doubtless give me nightmares for the rest of my days, even after I've left New York permanently?" The sarcasm was thick on her tongue. She was getting restless in her words, anxious, angry, but she didn't care. She just wanted him out.

She crossed the room to take something else out of a drawer to put in her suitcase and accidentally happened upon the Erickson Beamon necklace he'd given her. She couldn't move, and she could feel the heat of his gaze on the back of his neck. Quickly, she slammed the drawer shut and then looked up at him.

"I think you should leave." She cleared her throat delicately then. "It's what I'm going to do." She crossed the room back to her suitcase, realizing there was nothing she could really do with it if she did not put another thing inside, but her mind refused to focus on anything that deserved logical reasoning.

"Blair—"

His voice had softened, but she couldn't recognize it anymore. She hadn't heard that voice in awhile. She turned to face him.

"I've been dethroned. Nate broke up with me, and I got in a fight with a Serena because I was so entirely overwhelmed. I've always been able to depend on you, and you gave me the worst torture of all, confirming not only that everyone hating me is justified but that just as I feared, you never really liked me at all, not like you claimed." Suddenly sure of herself, she started walking towards him. "So, please, Chuck, leave. The only person I have left is my daddy. What you said to me earlier is more than enough to keep me restless and dreaming horrific nightmares for months to come."

Despite how angry and hurt he was, he suddenly felt incredibly guilty. He'd wanted to hurt her, just like she'd hurt him. Because everything she'd done to him had taken him to a place of pain he never knew existed, not even with his father. The fact that she'd come to him last didn't even begin to explain how that made everything so much worse. But now – even so soon after he'd hurled his graphic insults at her – he felt that maybe he'd gone too far. It took a lot of deliberate willpower to rid himself of that heavy feeling.

"So, feel flattered. Flaunt it. Relish in your latest whore because of it, I don't care!" Her arms flailed in exasperation. "Just get out of my house to do it. I can't take any more of your degraded bullshit."

She turned back around and stalked to her suitcase. The image of Chuck screwing some nameless prostitute flashed across her eyes, and it disgusted her to no end. It was the most awful thing to be realizing she really did have feelings for Chuck when he was treating her so horribly.

She called to Dorota loudly who immediately came to her aid. Blair sent her a heated look and it was as if some instant telepathy had taken place. Dorota turned to face him and the disapproving look on her face should have probably made him instantly go, but it didn't. She stalked towards him, fully intending on pulling him out of the room and hurling him down the stairs if she had to, but he didn't move.

Blair grew desperate. She wanted to slam the door in his face, but it would mean getting so much closer to him and she knew she'd break down if she got that. She couldn't take the pressure of Dorota being so close in the midst of them for much longer though.

"G-Go," she stammered, and Dorota left, somehow knowing it was for her.

Chuck walked into the room. It shook Blair to the core. She wanted to scream because the sensation was so intense. She stared hard at the floor, unable to look him in the eyes. When she heard the door shut behind him, everything got so much worse.

"Please, Chuck," she whispered, her head starting to shake as she felt her eyes water. "I can't take anymore." She shuddered. "There's nothing left for me here." She swallowed hard. "Please don't make it worse."

"I should hate you, you know, for all you put me through."

She looked cautiously up at him.

"Seeing you with Nate put me through hell." He paused a beat, letting the information sink in. He saw the recognition on her face and how much she was trying to deny it in her mind. "And calling me a mistake? What we had – a mistake? That burned, Blair."

She looked down and closed her eyes again, tightly this time. "I loved Nate," she whispered, knowing the exact moment he cringed and clenched his teeth and hands. "I still do."

"My words shouldn't have hurt you like they are right now if what you and I had meant nothing to you," he stated bluntly. "If it still doesn't," he whispered softly.

She looked up at him and took a deep breath. "It doesn't matter now." She turned around and zipped her suitcase shut. She gripped the handle in her hands and dragged it down off the bed. It was heavy and fell to the ground before she could get it propped up. Before she could lift it so it stood straight up, he was bending over and fixing it himself. Their fingers touched when he brought the handle towards her. With his other hand he hesitantly grasped the soft curves of her face and neck.

"It matters," he whispered.

Slowly, she looked back up at him, tears glittering in her eyes.

"I wouldn't have come here tonight if it didn't matter."

He stood, looking at her, and knowing full well that he couldn't kiss her after how horribly he'd torn her down tonight, but he also knew he'd make a breakthrough and he couldn't just leave. Because no matter how irrational he was in his revengeful state, his overwhelming desire to have Blair choose him always won out sooner or later. He didn't know how he'd fallen under her spell again just now, but he knew with certainty that he didn't want an explanation. She was a drug he'd gone so long without, and now it seemed like she was in the palm of his hand – almost.

She blinked. "Why did you come here?" Suddenly she pulled her hand away. "Don't tell me it was to apologize." She scoffed.

The truth was he didn't know, but he knew that wouldn't satisfy her. It didn't even satisfy him. When she'd left him earlier that evening he'd told himself he should feel good about making her feel at least somewhat close to what he'd felt since he'd seen her push her way into a room with Nate after Cotillion. But he hadn't. His anger had built and overwhelming satisfaction had scorched through him as he spewed insult after insult onto her, none of them being true. But after she'd left and he was alone again, he felt empty. He had too much pride to take back what he'd said, at least out loud, but he still wanted her, and he couldn't bear the thought of her leaving. That didn't explain why he had come to begin with though.

"Well?" she demanded.

Her eyes were narrowing. That was not a good sign.

"I don't know why I'm here, Blair," he said honestly, not knowing where else to go by way of explanation. The expression on her face was unreadable but it did not bode well for him. There were too many emotions mixed together in those deep brown eyes. If he let the uncomfortable silence linger any longer there was no telling how much worse it would get, or if he'd ever see her again.

She looked away, tears starting to fill her eyes. She closed them shut. She didn't know what she'd expected but it hadn't been that. Just because sounded like the biggest lie he could have ever come up with. It also sounded extremely pathetic.

"Chuck—"

"I just know that I can't leave."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. The sincerity in his face was almost overwhelming, and she stared because she couldn't help it. She was awestruck, and it was that feeling alone that caused a sole tear to run down her cheek.

He took a step towards her. "I'm so mad at you," he said.

She stiffened.

"I'm pissed beyond belief." He almost laughed.

Her hand formed into a fist at her side with the effort it took to maintain control of her actions. It was so bipolar between the two of them. Always.

"But…" And he couldn't do it. He couldn't tell her he still wanted her, even if he'd already said it in so many ways throughout the whole conversation.

Her hand relaxed. She waited.

But then he took a step back, surprising her.

"I should go," he said, taking a few more steps back.

Her lips parted, sadness creeping over her. She lost the ability to speak.

"It matters, Chuck?" she managed, trembling when she finally found her voice as he neared her door. She watched carefully as he turned his body slowly towards her and looked her in the eyes. His face was grim but he nodded once.

"It matters."

She watched him leave and when she heard the elevator doors chime, she moved into the hallway and called to Dorota.

"Yes, Miss Blair?" An almost frazzled Dorota dutifully asked.

"Tell my mother the trip is off."

The Polish maid's brows furrowed, but Blair gave no further explanation. She went back into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

…

A/N: I really really really wanted there to be a happy ending, because I've always wanted Chuck to come after Blair and stop her from leaving at the end of 1x13, but with how mad and hurt he was, I just couldn't give them a full reconciliation. But there's obviously a silver lining, so I hope you approve. ;p Please review!