A/N: It's been a while since I've published any CB story, over a year actually. I can't believe it's been this long. For everyone who's reading 'It never ends', I want to apologize for the lack of updates. I don't have any access to the chapters that I have already written because my laptop isn't working properly. I have to fix that first. I will try and finish the story, but for right now, I just don't have any access or any inspiration tbh. I hope I will get those chapters back and can continue if I feel inspired, so don't give up on it… or me, for that matter.
Now enjoy this story. Let me warn you though, it's not really a happy one.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any of its characters
It was the hottest day of the year, the sun was shining ceaselessly and she was at the most peaceful place a person could possibly be.
The only noises she heard were noises that she induced and the almost non-existent sound of the pleasant whiff that cooled her skin from the glaring sunbeams.
As her thumb rolled down and ignited the lighter, the distinct sound of it echoed in her ears.
She leaned forward and touched the tip of the cigar to the emerged flame, inhaling.
She felt it. She felt her lungs filling with smoke, filling with that burning sensation that he used to leave on her.
Her mouth formed into an "o" then and she let the smoke escape through her full lips, watching it curiously. The smoke was short-lived, dissolving into clear air as if it never existed, as if that moment of existence had never occurred, as if she had simply just imagined it.
All that was left behind was a memory in her mind.
She closed her eyes then and tried to sink into that feeling of wholeness that she wasn't experiencing as often anymore.
"Today was a good day." She exhaled slowly, her eyes still firmly closed, while breathing in the fresh air.
She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes, it would have shattered her imagination and it was the last thing she wanted or needed.
She led the cigar to her lips again, holding it with the tip of her fingers, one hand on each side, inhaling but inhaling too deeply.
This time she felt a scratching sensation in her thorax and her involuntary exhale was followed by loud coughing. Her eyes though, remained closed.
She wasn't a pro at smoking cigars, never had been and for some reason her failed attempt at it made a tiny smile form on her lips.
"I don't understand how you could enjoy cigars." She stated then, still with that beam on her face and she waited.
She waited although she knew, knew too well that there was no point in waiting, so she filled in the silence.
"Henry will turn 18 next week, can you believe it? I feel as if he was just born." She shook her head slightly and her beam diminished. "He's perfect…" She trailed off, wetting her lips and trying to hold her composure. "He has taken after his father and he talks about you a lot. He misses you, I can tell." She gulped thickly. "And I do, too." She added and she didn't allow a tear to fall.
She breathed in the scent that she'd created and for that very moment she almost felt complete again.
It was almost as if…
A rustle was suddenly heard and she tried hard to suppress the sound.
The rustle turned into approaching footsteps and she clenched her teeth together, trying to ignore it.
She didn't want to let those footsteps interrupt the moment that she was having.
She could pretend. She wanted to pretend.
It eased the pain and made it bearable sometimes.
"Blair." And her magic was crumbled into dust, it was gone.
She opened her eyes and a single tear trailed down her cheek. She was confronted with the horrible reality that was cruelly staring right back at her, the reality that she'd tried to desperately forget for a second.
"I figured you would be here." The intruder, her longtime friend said, carrying a bottle of scotch and tulips.
She was surprised to see him here, she had expected anyone but him.
He didn't like this place and didn't find any solace in it, she knew.
He sat down next to her and she could tell that he was mustering the glass filled with scotch and the cigars.
"I see." He let out. "You've thought ahead." He finished and she cracked a little smile before showing him her own bottle of scotch.
They sat there in silence for a long while and she closed her eyes again, trying to reawaken her special moment; his words though made her eyes open again instinctively.
"It smells like him." His eyes searched hers and she nodded, biting at her lower lip.
He suddenly closed his eyes and she kept staring at him and wondering if the scent made him feel what she was feeling.
"If you close your eyes you can actually pretend and believe that he's here." It did, he could feel it and her lips curved back into a smile.
She was suddenly glad that he had decided to drop by since she could now share that special moment with someone who had known him too.
It made her feel better.
"Today, 10 years ago." She muttered with a somber voice after a while, playing with the cigar in her hand and her friend opened his eyes and looked at her.
"I know." He pressed his lips together before breathing out heavily. "I know." He repeated, his hand still firmly holding the tulips.
"It's been so long but I just can't seem to let go. I miss him a lot." She let her heart talk, her gaze not wavering from what was in front of her.
"I miss him, too…a lot." He told her quietly and his quivery voice made her gaze wander back to him.
He missed his best friend just as much as she missed her husband.
"I know it's been a while since I've been here, but it doesn't mean that I've forgotten him. This place just doesn't comfort me." His eyes were fixated on the inscription and she just nodded because she did understand.
He looked churned up and she felt for him…with him.
"Here." She offered him a cigar. He studied her for a second, taking it and letting her ignite it.
He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes before exhaling.
"Does it now?" She asked and he just let out a little laugh, looking at her.
She saw his look wandering back to what was in front of him and his hand reached out to place the tulips on top of the grave, on top of the cruel reality.
He looked back at her and a sad smile formed on her lips before they both took another puff of their cigars and clenched their eyes shut.
They started pretending.