Amortissement.
She was the fallen ice queen, standing outside the Plaza, in the pouring rain, in an emerald green dress that shimmered all the way down to the pavement. He was the devil redeemed, who had just recited an epic speech that needed no notecards, just feeling. She felt truly like she was in Tiffany's, and Chuck wasn't going to put her in a cage anymore.
Coldplay's "Fix You" soothed from the outdoor speakers, a song Blair felt fitting. They were always, after all, willing to pick through the emotional rubble to help each other.
ChuckandBlair, BlairandChuck.
He had just thrown everything that had ever happened between them - limos, rooftops, Jack, Eva, Raina, the Prince - out before her in words. He threw caution to the wind. He was always able to do that with her, after all. Be that vulnerable Chuck Bass no one else got to see. All the memories, both good and bad, lay before them. Chuck had thrown a bandage on the wound, and somehow it held fast.
Blair gazed up into familiar hazel eyes. All those memories were blurred together, no longer fresh behind her eyes. The pain he had dealt her had healed, the pleasure ran strong.
The Manhattan lights illuminated half of his face. One side light, the man she knew he could be; one side dark, the devil bathed in black. The severity in his expression rocked her to the core. She could see the lion eating itself out from the inside, masked by a hopeful smirk. Raindrops twinkled prettily his eyelashes, mingling with unshed tears.
They were never going to be safe, so forgive and forget?
No. Forgive and remember.
Chuck very slowly slid onto one knee. He knew the dirt on the pavement would ruin his pant leg, but looking into her chocolate eyes he no longer cared. The velvet Harry Winston box was smoothly removed from his pocket. He opened it silently. No words need be spoken, for a lion's roar is only half as strong as its purr.
Blair took a long time gazing at the ring. He knew her favorite cut, her favorite shape, her favorite band. If there was ever a ring to fit Blair Waldorf, it was this one.
She swallowed, wet curls glimmering in the night. Chuck hung his head, a chorus of I love you and I'm sorry and In the face of true love you don't just give up. He was still kneeling.
Blair sank down before him, noticing his bow tie was very similar to the one he wore that first night at Victrola. She dimly detected that Coldplay was still playing.
Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones.
One hand cradling his face, Blair brought her cherry red lips to his and kissed him gently yet passionately. Her other hand found itself in front of the velvet box, and Chuck did nothing, sure she was going to close it. Yet she did no such thing. The city lights illuminated both of them.
The song was still playing, the piano keeping time with the rain and his pounding heart. He took the ring from its confines, slipped it onto her third finger, and wiped the tears from her cheeks. They smiled.
She was the fallen ice queen, he the devil redeemed. Together they crashed against rock bottom, and still together they pushed each other up.
And I will try, to fix you.