Kismet

Prologue

Perhaps this was how it was always meant to end. Maybe it was inevitable that amidst the carnage of their emotions, rage, love and hate, this would be the culmination of their lives. So that when all those pent up feelings were let loose, one of them would have their guts spilled out on the gravel and their blood seeping into the streets of New York.

And maybe when all is said and done, it is right and it is fitting that she should be the one to terminate their story. Her last laugh floating up to the smog covered sky. And with her dying thought she sees him, hazy in her vision. And she appreciates the irony that it is his bullet shot through her heart because he has only just realized it was his all along.

*****

Chapter 1- A Ship in the Night

"Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness."

Shakespeare's Sonnets

The Vanderbilt ring has been a bone of contention between them for years now. She says she wears as a token of gratitude to their best friend. She claimed to be touched that he would bequeath to her the very last vestige of grandeur that his family has left. After all, Anne Archibald always meant it to be hers.

He hates seeing it on her finger, the mocking glint of it as it catches the sunlight, a constant reminder of the love she never forgot.

The argument always ends the same. It's pointless to rant and rave because they aren't even together. High school is far behind them, College nearing its end. But Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass have yet to learn how to hold hands.

Those three torturous words already slipped from their lips ages ago. He was right. They were in senior year, she can't remember the exact date and she's not sure she cares to. It was at some point between his father's death and Christmas and all she remembered was the intense need to be with him. Hunger, wild insatiable hunger laced with love, finally bursting forth after months of pointless agony.

There was a fire roaring in the bedroom, its flames casting a new light around them. The red curtains were thrown back to reveal the snowy woods beyond. Chuck Bass made love to her and reveled in the feel of his body pressed into hers. She rakes her nimble fingers through his hair, intoxicated by the skill of his kisses and the smell of musk as she buries her nose in the crook of his neck.

And then, exhausted and utterly spent, she whispered the words into his skin. He stirred in his sleep and she knew then why she had waited for this moment.

This was the Chuck Bass she loved. Naked, stripped of his scarf, his bow ties, his smarmy attitude and his sleazy façade. Hair mussed, chest bare, muscles flexing as he hoisted himself up on his arms to look down at her, his weight crushing pleasantly on her own slender form. The adoration in his eyes, embarrassed because he was aware of the sheer naked love spelled out on his Roman-esque face.

She would never forget the hitch of his breath when he heard her words, the jaw that had been incessantly twitching for all their months apart was now slack, mouth hanging open for a split second before she reached up to devour it. He declared his love with the primal cry.

But there wasn't a soul in the world privy to these developments. They melted into stony New York and never made it to New Haven. The dawning realization was heartbreaking. They now knew that it was easy as breathing for them to be together. Just not in public, where even those closest to them marveled at the relationship.

And so they waited, for a comet to dash into earth, for the moon to turn blue for the world to finally change. For Charles Bartholomew Bass to finally pronounce to the world that he loved Blair Waldorf and always had.

But till the advent of that new day, this was their destiny. It pains her that they have been reduced to this. Stolen kisses in empty stairwells, hidden fucks on party nights and love notes with the eternal post script- burn after reading.

Because a couple that can't announce itself to the world is more than a little reluctant to define their relationship with each other. They are completely dysfunctional, with multiple anniversaries and wounds that never mended, till the part of them that loves each other is almost gone, a flickering candle on the cold lonely nights. Their once cherished romance, hidden from the prying eyes of the world for the purpose of preservation had dissolved into a string of secrets trysts, broken promises and empty farewells.

So, she wears Nate's ring because she doesn't have one from Chuck. So, they stop the screaming and yelling because they've been through it all before and even their fights are just falling into the motions of a practiced dance. He changes the steps as he steps out of the door- "One day Blair Waldorf, I will take that ring of your finger," he vows, his voice low and dangerous, dark eyes glittering angrily. The door slams behind him, but she can't cry because the tears just douse the dying flames of the greatest love she'd never known.

*******

Nathaniel Archibald is coming home. It's been far too long since he's stepped on home ground, entirely too long in fact since his feet met with any sort of soil. The sea has become his mother and he cannot bring himself to revel in this fact. He's lost himself in the water and he needs to smell the smoke of New York to remember the boy he was and the man he almost became. His perfect countenance has not been marred by the stormy weather though it is a little worse for the wear.

He still stands tall; the prince he pretends to be, but when his crew turn their backs his shoulder wilt, and his mask drops. The carefully built façade crumbles away. He can't help but remember his old girlfriend, his tutor in building up defenses. The captain is gone and little boy blue emerges, sweeping his glance across the deck and the expansive cerulean waters beyond, scared at the scope of the oceans that he battles with and woos everyday.

The only anchor he has left as the solitary memory of the farewell; the last glimpse of America before he went off to sail the seven seas- see the world. His three best friends stood at the docks, the moonlight dapples their skin and glitters in their teary eyes.

He heaves a great sigh as the image of that congregation comes back to him. The three people in his life who were once his family, his life; slipping into all the different roles that populated his mind- siblings, lovers, parents and friends. They who had once been all had faded into oblivion with the rest of the coast, no more than a meaningless speck on the horizon.

The thought of them strengthens his resolve. Blair, who wears his ring and Serena who carries his heart are waiting for him back in New York. And so is Chuck, the brother he could never quite shake. They are in his blood, the city in his blood.

Nathaniel Fitzwilliam Archibald. The winds whisper his name. New York City. Home.