Characters/Pairing: Chuck/Blair
Rating: PG13
Summary: "She looks at him, her eyes telling him what she can't say with her mouth just then; the reassuring message that she was lying … she'd just never admit when he was acting like a cocky bastard."
Word Count: 499
…
"Stop that." He can feel her eyes boring holes into his back.
Without turning to look at her, he answers her demand with a question. "Why should I?"
"Because," she scrunches her nose up haughtily, "it's disgusting. And it makes you smell bad. So stop."
He sneers at her. "Make me."
She chews on her bottom lip, contemplating it for a moment. And then she is making her way over to him, her eyes determined as she accepts his dare. He's hit by a whirlwind of her perfume, a mixture that smells like vanilla and strawberries.
He brings the cigarette up between his lips, inhaling in one last drag. She reaches for it, and almost has it, but he's prepared. Before she can grab it he's held it up in the air, out of her reach. She lets out an angry groan and mentally cursed herself for wearing flats.
She looks up to see him smirking down at her, and he secretly loves that she is so much shorter than he is.
She crosses her arms. "I hate you."
He clenches his jaw. "Liar."
She looks at him, her eyes telling him what she can't say with her mouth just then; the reassuring message that she was lying … she'd just never admit when he was acting like a cocky bastard.
Then she jumps in the air, hands reaching out for the offensive object. She jumps once, twice, and she is done after the third time.
"Chuck!" She whines. She's blushing, a dark crimson splattered on her already rosy cheeks.
He just smiles at her. "What Waldorf?"
"You know what!" She's humiliated. She's a lady; a perfect lady who doesn't jump around trying to pry cigarettes away from a guy's fingers. The whole picture was just wrong.
He gives in. He's had his fun torturing her. He has more entertaining activities to carry out … he's wearing his true colors tonight. And the lovely lady in front of him is (as always) perfectly appealing to him.
So she's startled when tosses the cigarette, then turns on her. He's the predator, and she gulps, because, once again she's his prey. She glances down at her dress. It's white, and she may as well have worn her nightdress with the way it's covering her up. She's mentally cursing herself again.
Way to hand yourself over on a silver platter!
He leans in and places a feather light kiss across the bottom of her jaw. He buries his nose in her neck, and then takes a fistful of her hair, inhaling the cherished chocolate curls.
"You smell good." Whispers against the pallid skin.
She's falling into a blurry haze, but she leans into him and returns his actions. She gives a little smile.
"You smell good too."
He raises an eyebrow. "I thought I smelled bad?"
"I lied." Because he smells like scotch and cloves, and she loves it.
He cups her chin, his strong fingers holding her delicately, "Love you, liar."
…
A/N: Another random, fluffy piece. I don't where it came from, but I wrote it out anyways. This is far from perfect, but I actually kind of like it! One good thing, though, I love the height difference between Chuck and Blair, so I'm going to have to write something that's really centered on that! (: