A/N: I had been wanting to write a post 2x15 story but no ideas struck me. That was until I heard the song "Sorry" by Buckcherry on the radio yesterday. They lyrics seemed perfect for C/B and I just had to write about it. I tried not to make the characters too OOC but you can be the judge of that
Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl or the Buckcherry song used in this story.
Blair pressed play on the remote as Breakfast at Tiffanys appeared on the screen for the fourth time that day. It had been three days since she rejected Chuck in the elevator.
In hindsight it had been kind of sweet of him to bring flowers and his apology had seemed genuine.
But how could she forgive him for the terrible things he said to her? She had been there for him through all of it and he didn't even have the nerve to be cordial towards her. She couldn't be blamed for not being able to put up with his bullshit anymore.
Her neatly written pro/con list lay on her desk in the next room. It was out of sight but certainly not out of mind. The cons of being with Chuck Bass had certainly out weighed the pros. There were so many risks. So he was sorry this once. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't just fuck up again.
But she loved him. And that should be enough, right?
It was this quandary that sparked the miserable mood Blair had been in for days. She hadn't left her room since school ended the day before. She had settled down with a box of chocolates and some Audrey. However, her normal remedy wasn't working. All she could think about was Chuck.
Damn that Mother Chucker, Blair thought. She wasn't used to not being in control of her every thought.
It was at the moment that her phone beeped, signaling a new text message.
B-
Give me one more chance. Please.
-C
She wanted to give him a chance so badly, but she worried about repeating the terribly hurtful cycle that only she and Chuck were able to go through over and over again. They pissed each other off, they chased each other, the apologized, they were happy, and then eventually they just ended up hurt. It happened everytime. She replied with one simple word: Why?
Go see Dorota.
-C
Curiosity got the best of her and she emerged from her room and went in search of her adoring maid. When Blair found her, Dorota looked nervous. Blair stared pointedly at her until she spoke.
"Ah Miss Blair. Mister um..." The maid hesitated.
"You can say his name Dorota, I'm not a child," Blair snapped. She didn't like to be viewed as fragile by anyone. Even Dorota who had practically raised her.
"But Miss Blair you told be never to say his name..." she was still unsure.
"Dorota!" Blair spat, clearly annoyed.
"Well Mr. Chuck," the maid spoke his name in a hushed tone, "Left this for you." She went to the hall closet and removed a black garment bag. Blair shook her head in frustration, but she couldn't hide a small smirk. She took the bag and retreated quickly back to her room.
Slamming the door behind her, Blair laid the garment bag on her bed and unzipped it. The first thing she noticed was a note that displayed the distinct scratchy writing of one Chuck Bass.
I know I haven't given you any reason to trust me, but please. Put on the dress and go downstairs at 7. A car will be waiting.
She didn't try to fight him on this one. She knew she would go. No matter what internal debate she forced herself into, she would give into his demands. She always did. She wasn't making any decisions, but she would go to wherever it was that car took her and she would hear him out.
The other item in the bag was a black floor length dress. It was plain but elegant. It had a wide neck and a slight racer back. It seemed familiar. Blair wondered where she had seen this dress before.
Suddenly it came to her, as she heard the dialogue from her favorite movie quietly in the background. It was exactly like the dress Audrey Hepburn wore in Breakfast at Tiffanys. He must have had one made for her. That was sweet of him, she thought, very unexpected.
She stepped into the dress and slowly pulled the zipper up the side. It fit her like a glove, hugging her curves in all of the right places. She pinned her hair up in a very Audrey style, a French twist. The only thing missing was jewelry. She opened her jewelry box and carefully removed the Erikson-Beamon necklace Chuck had given her for her seventeenth birthday. It seemed the only appropriate thing to wear. When she clasped it around her neck, the outfit was complete. She pulled on a long jacket and with a spritz of perfume she was on her way.
As she had expected, the limo was waiting for her out front. The driver opened the door and she had expected to find Chuck waiting inside. She was disappointed to find the limo empty except for a single red rose, with a note attached.
I had some things to prepare for. Be patient and you will get where you need to be. I promise.
-Chuck
What was it with all of these notes? She was done reading notes, she wanted to see Chuck. She had never been good at surprises, and the situation was already difficult without all of the guessing.
Within no time the limo had pulled up outside of the Palace. Blair swore that if he had done all of this to lore her to his suite, she would murder him with her bare hands. Well, that sounded a little messy, maybe she would just pay someone to do it for her. She was lost in her plot for Chuck's murder when she was interrupted by a man in dressed in a Palace Hotel uniform.
"If you would please follow me this way, Miss Waldorf. Mr. Bass is expecting you," the man informed her as she followed him to the seemingly deserted East wing of the hotel and towards the main ballroom. As they neared she heard the soft tones of a piano.
The man held the door to the ballroom open as Blair stepped inside. The music stopped as she entered and her eyes fell on a Piano in the middle of the dimly light room. There were candles throughout the room and rose petals scattered on the floor.
Sitting at the piano was Chuck Bass himself. Her memory flashed with images of Chuck as a boy playing piano in his home. They had been in the same piano class. Blair had excelled while he struggled. Of course, she would go over to his house after school and tutor him.
Even as young children they had helped each other out. With parents like theirs nothing less than perfection was acceptable. They had to be there for one another. She wasn't aware he had continued his study of the instrument. Blair was pulled out of her thoughts by his low voice. He looked as handsome as ever, in a perfect cream tux and a skillfully knotted bow-tie.
"Blair," he addressed her as he slid her jacket off of her shoulders and hung it up, "You look stunning." He placed a suave kiss on her hand and continued to hold her hand in his own. "Thank you for coming." His eyes conveyed his sincerity. She gently pulled her hand away from his. She wasn't done being angry with him, yet.
"I was angry the other day when you came to my house, and I still am. But, I may have been a bit irrational. You deserve to be heard. This better be good, though," she said to him in all seriousness.
"Come with me," he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the piano. His proximity and the feeling of this hand on her back sent chills down her spine. He had an incredible ability to have this effect on her, like nobody else.
He gestured for her to sit down on the bench. She sat gracefully as always, facing away from the piano, unsure of his intentions. However, she was surprised when he sat facing the piano as if he was going to play. She was unsure of what to say. Should she question his intentions? He put his hands on the keys and she spoke up.
"I didn't know you could still play," she mentioned in an attempt to sound casual. The atmosphere was tense and nervous, which was strange for them. Normally their conversation came so naturally. She knew that they both understood the importance of this night and didn't want to make the wrong move.
"Well I didn't. Not really. It's a skill that I've recently acquired. As recently as a week ago," he sounded uncharacteristically unsure of himself, "I realized I needed to do something special for you."
"Well isn't that romantic? Who are you and what have you done with Chuck Bass?" She teased him carefully, still unsure of his intentions.
"Its this new thing where I don't repress my feelings," he admitted in a low voice. She was slightly taken aback by his willingness to share this information with her.
"Alright then, get on with it," She said while gesturing towards the ivory colored piano keys. Her attempt to act like this was all normal was failing miserably.
He began to play, slowly at first. His fingers picked up pace as he became more comfortable. She recognized the tune, but she couldn't place it. That was until he began to sing.
Oh I had a lot to say
Was thinking on my time away
I missed you and things weren't the same
Cause everything inside it never comes out right
And when I see you cry it makes me want to die
Blair felt like all of the air had been sucked out of her body. She couldn't breathe. Was this really happening? Yes, Chuck Bass was singing to her. The biggest womanizer in all of the Upper East Side had learned how to play the piano. Just for her. His voice was surprisingly smooth as he continued.
I'm sorry I'm bad I'm sorry you're blue
I'm sorry about all the things I said to you
And I know I can't take it back
I love how you kiss, I love all your sounds
And baby the way you make my world go round.
As he finished he looked up from the keys and into her chocolate brown eyes. She was smiling dreamily when their eyes met. His discomfort was still evident. He smiled hesitantly and shrugged in question.
"What'd you think?"
"I think," she scooted closer to him and cupped his face in her delicate hands, "That was the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me, Chuck." She placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Dance with me?" He questioned as he stood and walked over to turn on the ballroom's sound system. The music flowed through the speakers as he made his way back to the piano, his arm extended waiting for her to take his hand. She took his hand as she rose to her full height.
"There's something I need to confess," she admitted carefully as they began to dance, "On New Years Eve, I came to find you in Thailand and..." he cut her off almost immediately.
"I know, Jack told me in an attempt to play with my mind," their bodies were close as they continued to sway to the music despite the seriousness of the conversation. The dancing seemed appropriate. Some of the only happy memories they had together were of them dancing. They had danced like at the Snowflake Ball and at his father's wedding. This dance was strangely reminiscent of the later.
"I'm sorry Chuck, I was in so much pain after you left. I was so desperate to find you and he took advantage of that." He placed a single finger over her mouth.
"I know, I know. You have nothing to be sorry for. It's me who needs to do the apologizing."
"Don't you think learning to play the piano and singing me that song was enough? Chuck, I know you mean it now. I can't question your intentions anymore," she admitted.
"Still, I never should have left and I don't intend to leave you ever again. I will do everything in my power to never do that to you again. That is if you'll still have me." He twirled her around slowly and as she completed the graceful turn he pulled her in closer. So close that their faces were almost touching. She responded by placing a soft kiss on his lips.
"Well I guess," she answered playfully. Their lips met again in a passionate fury of emotions. When they pulled back for a breath, Blair spoke up. Blair's curiosity overcame her again.
"I just have one question. How did you get this dress made? It seems like an exact replica of the real one." Chuck placed his lips near her ear. Kissing that spot that he knew she couldn't resist. Then he whispered,
"That's because it is the real one."
"What? Who? How?" She fumbled in attempt to form a full question while glancing down at the dress in disbelief.
"Because I'm Chuck Bass," she rolled her eyes as he pulled her close once again, "And I love you, Waldorf."
"I love you too, Bass."