A/N: Couldn't keep myself from this one-shot. I noticed that Chuck was holding a letter, or a paper of some kind in the promo and I wanted to explore what that might be. Reviews are always welcome. Excuse my grammar and spelling mistakes.
It was not your fault but mine,
And it was your heart on the line.
- Mumford and Sons.
Every second was a struggle to keep from running in the opposite direction.
It wasn't enough.
She kept her eyes on his cane, the limp that followed, the way he looked at her.
She could forget it all. She might. No.
Not this time.
It took everything to keep walking towards him.
No one spoke. A breeze passed. She looked at him, blinked, couldn't bear it. Looked down.
"Blair," He leaned on the railing.
She took a deep breath, "Chuck," And it was like glass, so fragile.
The air was stale, he could barely face her and yet she was so beautiful, so every bit of the woman he remembered.
He was trying to keep his hands from shaking, his tone steady, calm as a river.
All the dreams, he thought, and they never betrayed your beauty, I never let you out of my sight.
Until Jenny Humphrey.
"How are you?" She sounded curt, as though she was pained.
"I'm healing," He shrugged, so unlike him.
She tried to feel him, find the boy she had known in all of this, in the crease of his eyelids. How many times she had kissed them.
How many ways a heart could break in a couple minutes, a relationship dwindled like the wick on a burnt candle.
"You're beautiful," He allowed himself that, "Just as I remember."
She smiled, but in a fleeting way.
He hadn't seen her in so long.
It felt like she hadn't seen him in years, like she could barely translate the words. This man that she loved, despite everything.
"And you're wearing a shirt. It's different -"
"I'm different," He responded, "How could I not be?"
"I -"
He was loosing focus, the creme skin and brunette curls, red lips. He had explored every territory, knew every curve, if only he could recall those moments with her, feel them right now. She wouldn't seem so far away then.
Any touch would suffice, he stepped back a little.
She didn't seem to notice.
He took a step back, distancing himself from her.
She blinked, reminded herself to keep things simple. Audrey Hepburn. Humphrey Bogart. Something. A base from which to grow.
She didn't know how to to do this, it was foreign, not nearly as perfect as some made it seem.
"Your new girlfriend, she ..." It was a struggle for words, for control of her own emotions.
There was nothing to say.
"She seems, she is ... pretty. I'm happy for you Bass, I really am."
Stupid. Stupid. Of all the things to say.
Now. Give her the letter now. He held out his hand.
"Here," She took it from him gingerly, he drew his hand back.
"What is it?"
He took a deep breath, looked away.
"It explains why I'm not coming back to New York."
"What?" She slipped it into her purse, searched his eyes.
Found no explanation.
"I hurt you," He reasoned, "I ruined us single-handedly and the idea of being near you but not with you. I can't do that Blair, I have to draw the line somewhere."
"Draw the line?" Her breathing was ragged, "You can't not come home Chuck, that's ridiculous."
"It'll be fine," He assured her, "I've got a home here now."
She shook her head, refused the idea of a New York without him.
"What about Rufus and Lily?"
Me?
"Their probably already on a transatlantic flight," She added, "You can't just .."
He had to let her go, he had to let her be without him. How else could she build something.
"Charles?" Evie appeared at the other end of the bridge, behind Blair. His jaw set. She was early.
Blair wimpered quietly, a noise he barely caught between his fingers.
She closed her eyes. So perfect. And she didn't belong to him anymore.
He stepped closer, just enough, his knuckles skimming her cheek.
When he bent into her ear, she could barely think.
This isn't the same man.
He was acting on emotion, a childish need to be with her a few seconds longer before. He couldn't just walk away, he couldn't leave without telling her. And the smooth and simple plan had gone to ruins the moment he laid eyes on her that night, he could never keep himself together around her.
"I love you more than I'll ever love anyone else," He leaned down, pressed his lips to her forehead, dropped his hand and began walking towards Evie.
Blair waited until he was gone, a figure in the dark sky, a smudge of Blair before she took the letter out, threw it into the Seine.
She didn't need his reasons, she'd had enough of them.