Always, there's a space between them.
Even when their bodies are against each other, even as he is kissing her, his lips against hers, he feels it, wedging in and pushing its way through. It isn't enough to be close to her physically, touch every inch of her, yearning to cross the worlds separating them. It isn't enough for him.
Many times he'd try to speak up and ask her something, but felt it was too personal. Ironic, considering their history. He wants to know her again, like he used to. But she's made it clear enough that all she wants to do is sleep with him. Given what they've been through, he could not help but hope, a little, pathetic though it may be that somehow, she still felt something.
She had loved him once, hadn't she? It was a small comfort, that once when they were all young and foolish she had told him so.
-
He watches her from where he is lying on his bed, her silhouette moving silently at the edge of his bed.
"Where are you going?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
"Home, Chuck."
"I'll take you there."
"A cab will be here in five minutes to pick me up," she tells him, pausing in the darkness. "Nate won't be home yet."
"What time is it?"
She pauses. "Quarter to nine."
His eyes shift, involuntarily, to the wedding ring on her finger, glinting off the moonlight. He knows on that band are the words My beloved is mine, and I am my beloved's, a passage from the Bible. Song of Songs, not that either Blair or Nate are religious.
He shuts his eyes again, unwilling to watch her yet again walk away. As she does most every night they are together. The door clicks softly, and she's gone, that fast, as if nothing had ever happened. There was a time they had so much to talk about, so much feeling. Where did it all go?
He runs his hand through the sheets where she had been, feeling the cool cloth beneath his fingers. Fifteen minutes from now, Blair would be entering her own room, heading to the bathroom and then brushing her teeth. Wiping him out. And then she'll go play with her daughter, and when Nate arrives, kiss him the way she kissed him just now. Manhattan calls them the Upper East Side's golden family, its very own royalty. Perfect.
And even though he's the only one who can see the cracks, she really does seem to love Nate. Nearly four years in marriage now, he thinks. She talks about him sometimes, and her daughter Sophie, the things they do together, the places they go to. Things he never asked to hear. When she kisses him, he feels like it's Nate on her mind. Not him.
--
Part of the rules she saw fit to establish was that he would not strain beyond civilities with her in public. And he has always obliged. He never speaks more than a couple seconds to her in public, never smiles at her, never says anything that may suggest the affair. But she says he is too polite.
"Nate's beginning to wonder why, you know,' she told him.
"I suppose I can smother you."
Tonight is no different. He sees her with Nathaniel, with Sophie, laughing and smiling at each other and he is insane. But he knows that if he doesn't play by her rules, there wouldn't be a game at all.
"What is Chuck Bass doing in the corner?"
He turns his head, growling at the sight of Dan.
"Drinking scotch."
"No, no. I think you're sulking." Dan sits down next to him, to Chuck's dismay, and orders his own drink.
"What the hell do you know about me, Humphrey? Just because you're dating my sister, who by the way, you don't deserve."
"You don't deserve anyone," Dan retorts calmly.
"Do you?"
Chuck sips his drink with a smirk. He would be accused of being heartbroken if it weren't for his reputation. It protected him from what was obviously true.
"I'm going to find my sister," he says, after drowning the Scotch in a gulp. He looks at the man with disdain. "I suggest you don't."
He walks past the band, weaves his way through the chatting crowd of familiar faces. Tonight is Lily's birthday, which is really the only reason why he came. He sees Eric by the foot of the staircase and changes direction towards his brother, already glad to have found him. Then something tugs at his pants from behind.
"What the—"
He looks down at the little girl, her eyes looking up innocently at him, filled with tears. A pink headband is perched precariously on her head.
"What is it?"
"I'm lost," she cries, rubbing her eyes.
"Oh God," he mutters. "Okay, okay. Don't cry." He looked around, sees that Eric is gone from where he was. "When did you last see your mommy and daddy?"
"I dunno."
Her lips begin to quiver dangerously, a sign he knows all too well to feel secure. Awkwardly, he hands her his handkerchief and takes her other small hand, wet and soft, into his. He looks down at her expression, slightly better, and frowns, mirroring her own.
"Where is Serena when I need her?"
"Aunt Sewena?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Carry me."
"What?"
"Carry me!"
He eyes her, and then her suit. "Fine." Stooping down, he picks the girl up, her little arms outstretched and picks her up. "Just so you know, this suite is quite expensive."
"Mommy and Daddy."
He would never admit his weakness for his girl, to the point of carrying her, even as people can see right now. Just because she's Sophie Waldorf-Archibald. With her clear-cut blue eyes, mahogany ringlets and Waldorf attitude, he is sure one day, she'll conquer the Upper East side like her mother. He thinks how odd this looks, how nice it feels, as he keeps an eye out for Nate and Blair.
"Sophie!"
And there they are only feet away, looking frantic with Serena. She takes Sophie from him carefully, and when their hands touched, flesh to flesh, the electricity coursed through his veins, clearing his mind despite the drinks he'd had. Their eyes meet perfectly, just a second, until she looks away.
"Chuck, thank you," Nate tells him. "I don't know what could've happened to her."
"Well, she found me. She's smart."
Nate smiles at Sophie, in her mother's arms. "You can't doubt it came from Blair."
"Where was she anyways?" Serena asks.
"Not far from the bar. Demanded I find her parents."
"Lily won't mind if we leave a little early will she?" Nate asks. "We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
"No, no of course not. I'm sure she'll understand."
He steals a glance at Blair, who is busy asking questions, which to his amusement Sophie readily answers.
"Do you knows how worried daddy and I were?"
"Vewy worried, mommy?"
"What were you thinking?"
"Thirsty."
Chuck thinks this scene right now is priceless.
"Blair, it's not her fault," Nate says gently. "Things like this happen. She's fine now, all right?"
She hesitates. "I turned around one second and she was gone," she admits, emotional.
He places his hand around her waist, bringing his girls closer. "It's not your fault either."
Witnessing this scene, Chuck turns to watch some people behind them, as if they are the most intersting people he knows. A man in a mustache, funny looking in his tight suit, kisses the hand of a woman holding a flute of champagne. Serena is looking at him too.
"Have you seen Dan?"
"No."
Sophie holds up the handkerchief in her hands.
"Where did you get that?"
She points at Chuck. "Him."
For a second, he thinks Blair might've smiled at him, a fraction of a second. In his delusions, maybe, because she hasn't done that to him a long time now. A real, genuine smile.
In her mother's arms, Sophie grins.
"Serena, do you think Lily will mind if we leave a little early? Blair and I have a full day tomorrow."
"I'm sure she'll understand. I'll tell her for you guys."
They trade kisses the four of them: Blair, Nate, Sophie and Serena as he watches quietly. Then Nate grins, shakes his hand and thanks him again. Chuck can't help but think about how his best friend, almost a brother, knows nothing about the fact that he sleeps with his wife. Blair looks at him. Without words, he already understands what she's trying to say. His lips curve into a subtle half-smile.
"Say goonight to Uncle Chuck and Aunt Serena, baby."
"Sweet dweems!"
"Take care of my godchild, all right?" Serena grins.
Please, review! I'm not sure if I should continue this, but if I do, the next chapter will involve Blair's POV.