Haunting in Apartment 34
Summary; Chuck left Blair without a word, 10 months later, she finally gets news of him. Is it enough to offer her hope at a happily ever after, or will it break her apart all over again?
Rating; M (mild sexual scenes and implications, nothing dangerously explicit mentioned)
Pairing; Chuck and Blair. Its a stand alone fiction, it doesn't fit into any series/time arc and doesn't disclose who Gossip Girl is.
Disclaimer; I own nothing except the heartbreak that drove me to write this. I make no profit, merely use this as therapy for my heart.
Note: It's not happy and soppy and lovey dovey. I started this whilst in the middle of a terrible heartbreak (may it forever rain on the bastard whenever he leaves his apartment) and needed somewhere to write my feelings out. So if you want happiness, there are tonnes of smutty smutty Chair stories waiting for you. If you want some misery with a slight possibility of happiness, carry on reading darling.
Also, when I mention ghosts, they are metaphorical ghosts, Blair doesn't actually see them. But I think you'll get what I mean, we all have our fair share of ghosts walking around.
Ah, also, I wrote two endings; one at the start of my mood swings, where It's a not so happy one. And the other as I fixed myself and figured you might want a happily ever after, so, you get to chose which ending you read for my story. Chapter 2: happy ending. Chapter 3; realistic ending.
10 months after heartbreak
B, you okay? A text from Serena buzzed in her hand.
Blair rested against the mirrored wall of the elevator, waiting for the doors to open to her apartment.
It's just a headache, Serena.
But it wasn't a headache, it was a heartache that physically crippled her. A fresh hit to her soul.
You know that's not what I meant.
Blair dropped the mobile in her purse, ignoring her best friend's questioning intent. Blair took a breath and prepared herself to greet the ghosts that kept her company. The first came with the opening of the elevator door.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened but that didn't deter either of them. Chuck was still intent upon sliding his hand further up her thigh under the Oscar de la renta skirt she wore. His lips pressing to the column of her throat as he tugged her back closer to his front.
The back of Blair's mind was aware her mother could have returned early from work but the likelihood was slim.
"Chuck, move." she breathed, attempting to step with him into the apartment. He held her back and she couldn't stop the giggle that left her as the only thing to move was his hand to her panty-line. "Apartment." she prompted with a laugh.
"Apartment." he breathed roughly against her neck in agreement. She felt his thigh press against her and walked with him, still tightly held in his arms as they entered the apartment.
Jimmy Choo's tapped out a slow walk across the hallway, she set her jacket on the side table and slipped off her beloved heels into her hands. They had done their job for the night and she had the sore feet as evidence. She walked into the parlour, her eyes skimming over the hauntings she couldn't ignore.
"It's math." Blair complained. "I have no words for how much I hate math."
"Have Izzy do it for you?" Chuck purred, his lips trying to get her attention as they prowled her neckline.
"And suffer her grade?" she scoffed. "I'd rather ask Humpfrey."
"So why don't you?" his finger toyed with the top of the lace bra he could see under the white blouse, calm strokes back and forth until he had her full attention.
"Unlike some people, I earn my grade." They both knew the implication of her tone. Chuck didn't care, but it was evidence enough that Blair was in a sour mood. Thankfully he knew the cure. He took the maths book from her hand, silencing her rebuttal with a kiss and pressed her to the couch, his weight held carefully above her.
"You gunna tell me what's wrong or am I going to have to drag it out of you. One. Slow. Orgasm. At. A. Time."
Blair swallowed nervously, took a breath and then launched into a tirade about how her new minion had stolen her spotlight.
The ghosts schemed on that sofa for the next half an hour, conceiving a plan doubly as vicious as one she would make alone. Blair looked to the couch in longing, he had always been able to read her like a book. And yet, she hadn't been able to see what happened even when she was nose to nose with it. She still didn't understand it. Had there been signs she had missed? Should she have foreseen this and taken action? The same thoughts had driven her insane over the past 10 months. She still had no answer for them.
She walked past the ghosts making out on the windowsill and went into the kitchen. She was greeted by the ghoul she both hated and loved, it was her worst moment, possibly Chuck's best.
"Blair?" he entered the kitchen to find her on the floor, sobbing into her knees an empty pie dish on the floor next to her. He connected the dots with ease.
"I'm alright. Go away." she mumbled.
He'd heard some gossip on the playground, some nasty rumour that Georgina had taken back crown from Blair with one accidentally clever move.
"You really going to let Georgina do this to you?" he crouched down, moving the dish onto the counter and wrapping his fingers around the fork she held in a scrunched fist.
"Go away." she sobbed again, turning her head away from him.
He smelled the hand soap on her, the overly powerful cloud of perfume; she'd already purged the meal she'd scoffed.
"Give me the fork and we'll watch Audrey while we plan revenge."
Her fingers released the fork but she didn't move.
Finally, she looked up at him with wet eyes.
"Why aren't you yelling at me?" she whispered. He ran his fingers underneath her eyes to remove the tears and smiled at her. He extended his hand and helped her stand. As soon as she was set to rights on her prada heels, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for the hug she would never ask for.
She'd like to say it was the last time she'd purged when he found her, but it wasn't true. Truth was, she had lasted a long time without needing to while he stood by her side. She liked to sit and live in this memory, it was when Chuck had really stepped outside the 'lust buddy' role, he'd actually cared and not been afraid to show it. It was a memory she could look back on without crying.
Not all of the other ghosts were as friendly.
The haunting in her bedroom definitely didn't care about her feelings.
Blair poured herself a glass of wine while she texted back Serena. Serena had been a good friend through all of this, Blair shouldn't ignore her and risk losing her as well.
Serena had been the first to know after Blair herself had realised. Serena had found her on the second day, after Blair had spent her day between crying fits and bursts of anger. Her mobile had been broken from all the times she'd started typing out a text only to recall she had no number for him, self-preservation demanded she stop, so it had been thrown against the wall. Serena came with false hope, that maybe, somehow, possibly, he had an excuse. But both of them knew deep down, Chuck was gone.
She'd wished ill on him one moment then deeply apologised for the thought moments later. She still loved him, even if it was one way.
Audrey night? Serena's text had come straight back in. Blair tapped back a quick reply, that she was going to bed and would see her tomorrow. She polished off the wine and headed to the stairs, ready for the next ghost to torment her.
"I'm being ridiculous?!" Blair shouted, leaning over the stair rail. "Have you even taken a look at yourself, you still have her lipstick on your shirt!"
"Are you really going to stand there and tell me there isn't a wet patch from your grinding on Carter's leg?!"
"We are so over!" Blair picked the photo frame from the wall, ready to launch at him.
"Over?" he repeated darkly. "We were never anything to start with." He walked away from her, hands in pockets.
Blair dropped the photo on the stairs and chased after him, catching him by the elevator.
"How dare you? How can you say we were nothing?!"
"You forget we only started for you to get over Nate." He didn't need to shout, the words were damaging enough spoken in his deep bass tones. He stepped into the called elevator and neither said a word as he left.
This ghost, she had an understanding with, even if she couldn't hate Chuck right now, in that moment she did, because even though they fought, she knew she wouldn't lose him. Like most other fights, this fight has lasted a week before they were on each other like sexually deprived rabbits. They'd have episodes like that, where they'd split, use someone else to exact hurt and then collide in verbal battle before making peace the most animalistic way. It never used to last long from war to roses. She wished she could say there was a fight to attribute his absence to, but the simple truth; there wasn't. Things had been really good.
The train of her dress followed her up the stairs, the gold and black shimmered in the dim lights. As she climbed the steps she slid the black teardrop earrings out, the golden leaf necklace followed, both set to be back in her dresser.
The dress; it was beautiful, a strapless form hugging her curves, an elegant high-low hem let her dance and waltz while showcasing a beauty that was purely unrivalled. She was a vision tonight, beautiful and daring and yet home early from the party of the year.
It was no secret to anyone what had happened tonight; gossip had spread like wildfire. From the first phone buzz in a room of socialites, whispers passed until they reached her.
Serena had been by her side in a moment, an arm around her shoulder, guiding her away from the eyes. Blair had been too stunned to do anything but follow.
Chuck Bass had proposed.
To Eva Coupeau.
Blair sighed, sitting at the top of the stairs as she let the information sink in. For the last 10 months, she'd had no idea of what he was doing, she had a vague impression of where he was based on the Bass jet, but she had always thought he'd be back. It was the curtain call for her remaining hope tonight, the last inch of the open door kicked shut. Chuck had moved on.
One part of her breathed relief, it was a reprieve from the not-knowing that teared her apart, perhaps she could stop reaching for him now. The rest of her ached deeper than the first blow of realising he was gone. All she had were the ghosts in apartment 34 to keep her company. The mix of ghouls and spirits to mess with her emotions all night and day. Memories that played with her so she could never forget.
At first, she'd tear apart memories for any sign of what was going to happen, she'd dig into every hand placement for some explanation. Now, they were scenes in the background, she could walk past them without needing to stare and over analyse; there was nothing left she hadn't ripped apart.
Blair turned her eyes to the bedroom door, she supposed she should make some efforts to go to bed.
Chuck had Blair pinned against the bedroom doorway with one hand, the other was inside her, curling fingers in the best way to make her scream.
But then the ghosts would still remain. She turned her head back from the bitter memories. He wasn't hers anymore. He'd be making all of those types of memories with someone else. Not just someone though. Eva Coupeau. Maybe Blair had been blessed with the love of the boy, but Eva clearly had the man.
Chuck had been clear with Blair, that however much he loved her, he didn't believe in marriage. Blair had spent an entire week trying to change his mind, he'd been amused, annoyed, and finally they'd blown out an argument from it. She'd agreed to not mention it and he'd agreed to let her know if his mind ever did change.
"Blair," he sighed, holding her close in his arms on the loveseat. "If it means anything, you're the closest I've ever gotten."
"What?" she asked, confused by the context while she watched the chic flick intently, she was sure the bride's lover was about to storm the church and insist upon breaking off the wedding.
"If there was anyone I would ever want to marry, it would be you." he spoke in a quiet breath. If his lips hadn't been next to her ear, she wouldn't have heard it. She turned around in his arms. "But, my answer is still the same." he quickly amended before she got ideas.
So she sat on the stairs wondering what the hell was so special about Eva Coupeau to make him change his mind. Her hope had been shot in the heart tonight, her self-esteem was going down with it. Hope had been a horrible friend over the last 10 months, it build her up only to crush her all over again. Everytime the Bass jet would fuel up, she'd put on her best dress, align her makeup to perfection and clear her schedule to have a long fight and make up sex, but hope had crushed her enough times that she stopped checking in on Bass and his private plane.
Blair stood, unwilling to let herself be crushed all over again and returned to her preferred company of the ghosts of her bedroom, as taunting as they were, they were better than the present situation.
Blair opened the door to greet the ménage of ghosts.
The rug at the end of her bed always greeted her first.
"Don't you dare answer that call!" Blair hissed, slapping him as he reached for the phone to check the caller, all the while, his hips pistoned him slowly in and out of her. The pace was worth the carpet burns though.
"I'm sure Carter won't mind." he grinned at her sickly. The dark Chuck Bass that adored her to unknown limits.
"Don't you dare, Bass." Her fingers turning to claws on his wrist.
"Shouldn't he get to hear how happy you are without him?" he taunted and pressed accept on the call with one hand, the other pressing circling against her clit. She couldn't help but moan out loud.
Blair reached her arms behind her, tugging on the zip to release her from the dress as she walked to the chair by the bathroom.
You do know what today is right?" Blair asked from inside the bathroom, door closed.
"I imagine there was a reason I bought you pink peonies and macaroons." he purred, eagerly sat on the edge of the bed awaiting his reward. His fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt in anticipation.
"And you know that only good boyfriends get treats?"
"Have I been anything but?" he challenged, knowing she had tamed him through and through.
The bathroom door opened, revealing lingerie he had never imagined her to be in, spinning his head and awakening his senses. "Blair." Her name was a reverent prayer.
She folded the dress over the chair neatly, her shoes placed underneath it. She set the jewellery besides the ghosts on her dresser.
"No, no." His hand came up to cover hers, his lips shimmering with her juices as he knelt between her legs. "Leave them on." He knocked her hands from her stockings, running his up and down her legs before returning to his task, his tongue running up her slit in a way that had her losing all thought.
She collected the pyjamas from the couple on the loveseat.
"And what do you expect to do with those?" Blair asked pointedly to the fur handcuffs he held from a finger.
"Think we can come up with something."
"I think we cannot." she answered shortly. "I don't know who you planned to take down the bondage rabbit hole, but it isn't me." she scoffed.
"Perhaps a gentler approach." He stood from her. Her curiosity demanded she sit up and keep her eyes on him. He turned back around with the cashmere red scarf he'd picked from the floor. "Hands out Blair." She couldn't hide the grin. She made him work for it, but the night ended with his scarf tickling him as he thrust into her, her tied hands making fists of pleasure on his back.
Finally, she faced the bed, embracing what she had been avoiding as she unclipped the garter belt holding up her stockings.
"Say it again." she whispered in the darkness, her fingers tracing his jawline.
"You're a junkie."
"I like hearing it."
"You like making me say it." he refuted, capturing her absent fingers with a kiss and holding them to his chest.
"Say it." she purred, her lips held above his. "Please." The word echoed around in his head, a curse and a prayer. He met those gorgeous brown eyes and told her what she wanted to hear, a truth he'd held in for a long time.
"I love you."
Her answering smile was quickly consumed with her lips pressing to his.
She changed clothes quickly, avoiding the couple that made love in front of her mirror, making eye contact throughout. She didn't give the ferocious pairing fucking against her bedroom wall any attention either. She cleaned off her make-up in the bathroom ignoring her own singular ghost that tempted her to follow suit and purge into the toilet time and time again. She wasn't going to lie, she had been immensely familiar with that ghost the first month after Chuck left, her own way of punishing herself for not being perfect enough for him to stay.
Now her reflection was healthy, but there were rock hard eyes that had cried too many tears staring back at her.
She owed a lot to Serena, she'd helped her get back on her feet, pushed her into her therapy sessions again and brought her back out of her shell. But even Serena couldn't help the deep ache inside of her for Chuck. What if he was her only shot at true love and she had lost it forever? What if the universe had made an error and what was meant to be hers had gone to Eva Coupeau instead? What if Blair was destined to be alone?
She'd tried dating, she really had, but everyone paled in comparison to Chuck, he'd almost ensured that by being so perfect. She couldn't stand for them to kiss her, to her, it still felt like she was cheating on his memory. So, she stopped trying.
The ghosts in that bathtub giggled as he splashed her, then moaned as his fingers slid into her, his mouth sealing over her nipple.
She smiled softly at them.
Chuck wrapped the white towel around Blair, rubbing her warm.
"Where's my-" she stopped, knowing exactly what had happened. "Where did you put my underwear?"
"What underwear?" he played coy, reaching to take the bobble from her hair, he loved it so much more when it was down in curls and spirals for his fingers to wind in.
"I put out my underwear for after the bath. Before someone so rudely invited themselves to it."
"Haven't seen them." he lied smoothly. "Looks like you'll have to sleep naked."
"I have other underwear." she stated, walking back into her room to her wardrobe.
Chuck cut her off.
"It must be underwear migration season, I have it on good authority any other underwear you select will also go missing." he teased.
They'd been planning to go to the Kingston manor in the Hamptons before he left her. It was no secret how much she loved spending summers there. The Kingstons had finally conceived a child and moved out of the city, Chuck had instantly put an offer on the manor, buying it for himself, knowing how much Blair adored the Victorian house and the beautiful spacious rooms that the pure white shutters hid. Blair heard he sold it since.
Perhaps Eva had different taste, perhaps she preferred a town house, perhaps Chuck was buying her one now. Perhaps he'd be planning their wedding in her family's church. Perhaps he was planning a family as well.
Blair furiously rubbed under her eyes, the tears needing to be vanquished. Blair couldn't con Chuck into marriage, she had no hope of children from him, but perhaps Eva could do that as well.
Blair swept out her arm in anger, the lotion bottles knocked onto the bathroom floor with a clatter.
Chuck had probably forgotten all about Blair, while Blair was never 2 minutes away from a thought about him. He had probably discarded her into the part of his mind he kept all his other forgetful ladies and one night stands.
Blair stormed into her room and grabbed her phone, the third replacement since heartbreak had hit, opened the gossip girl blast.
She didn't look like anything new.
Blonde hair, slim body, long legs and more than a handful breasts.
She was pretty, beautiful even.
But nothing Chuck hadn't had before.
Why did she deserve such a high honour when Blair didn't even get a reason for him to leave?
Blair looked at the man curled around Eva. It was Chuck, but it wasn't the Chuck she knew. There was no scheme in his eyes, no glint of darkness hovering over him. He was smart and organised and… he was happy. Truly happy to be there. Utterly content.
Adulthood had robbed Chuck Bass of his playboy persona, it had settled him into a man any woman would be proud to have. Adulthood made him the man that women didn't expect the worst from; he was dependable now.
Anger bubbled afresh inside her, she deserved that kind of Bass. She had worked hard for that kind of Bass.
"You don't understand!" he snapped. "I already am my father."
"Don't you dare think that, you are nothing like him!"
"Why not, I lie, I cheat. I make promises based on nothing and I gamble with other people's savings." His business deal had come back to bite him in the ass, he'd risked a lot for it and had only saved himself by getting into bed with the wrong kind of people, doing it the wrong way, for the right reasons.
"Your father would do all of these things. But he wouldn't give a shit about it." She finally reached for him and he let her. "Your father wouldn't care that it's wrong. But you do, and you know it's only a temporary fix until you can set things right again. You will make it right, and that alone proves you are nothing like your father." He seemed to calm marginally and she wrapped her arms around him as he stared out of the window. "And you have me. I won't let you turn into your father. I promise."
She had stood by Chuck when he'd tumbled down into the bottom of a bottle and refused to stand. She had lifted Chuck up from himself and in turn, he had held her when the world had crashed around her and her plans for her fashion line.
Her phone vibrated in her hand. Probably Serena panicking because she hadn't replied yet.
Serena would wait.
Blair slumped into the corner of her bedroom.
She supposed she should get rid of the things he'd bought her now he'd moved on. They lived in a box at the bottom of her wardrobe, mostly clothes and jewellery, a few trinkets, a book or two. The hope that he was coming back had gone.
Just like Chuck; gone.
10 months ago she had woken up in his apartment. She'd had trouble sleeping through the thunderstorm outside but finally had slept at around 3am, curled into his side. But when she'd woken, although the sky had settled, everything in her world changed.
"Chuck?" she asked, blurry eyed. His 8am alarm was going off and he was nowhere to be seen. She rolled over and slapped it quiet. He usually turned it off if he'd woken before it. Blair laid back, ready for another 15 minutes of beauty rest before he brought her breakfast, but her brain registered something was wrong.
There was no breakfast smell.
Even when he was running late, he still made her something, even if it was fruit and yoghurt. He had too much paranoia over her eating disorder returning to not feed her breakfast. She slid out of bed, rubbing her eyes. "Chuck?" she called again, stumbling into her dressing gown over the end of her side of the bed and padded barefoot into the kitchen.
No Bass to be found.
"Chuck?" she called as he checked the entire apartment. He'd left.
A business meeting?
She went back into the bedroom only to notice his entire half of the bedroom was changed. The bottle of whiskey was empty, his wardrobe doors open and half of the clothes missing. On a whim, she looked under the bed; his suitcase was missing too. Had he forgotten a meeting abroad? She unplugged her phone from charge, noting his charger was also gone. No text.
Blair walked swiftly around the apartment, looking for a note. She checked the bedding in case he had left a note on his pillow and she had kicked it aside in her sleep.
Where the hell was he?
Blair was starting to panic, was something wrong?
She raced to his den, the laptop missing from its usual place. Chuck only used that laptop at home, he had another it synced to at work so he didn't need it for business trips. Was his other one broken?
She dialled his phone, something was definitely wrong.
A ringing tone came straight to her ears and she followed it. It led her to the front door to the apartment. She knelt slowly before the door to the ringing device that showed a picture of her smiling at central park; it was his favourite photo of her.
She stopped the noise quickly. The phone sat tidily and square. Placed, not dropped.
A darkness grew where her panic had bloomed.
There was one definitive answer to Chuck leaving.
She raced to his den, scuffing her knees on the carpet as she, too quickly, knelt before the built-in safe.
Please, please, she begged.
The code remained as it was; the anniversary of the night in his limo, but opened to nothing.
He'd cleaned out the safe.
His passport, his emergency cash.
No, not completely empty.
Photo's were stashed at the back, photo's of Blair and him in various embraces and at various events.
He'd taken everything but her.
Everything but a reminder of her.
Blair's phone vibrated again, drawing her to the present. Serena was probably two seconds from storming her apartment.
Blair rolled her eyes and opened up her messages. Three were from Serena, but one was from an 11-digit number she didn't know.
We should get a coffee, catch up. Antonio's 9am tomorrow. – CB.
If you want the fairytale-esque ending, go ahead to Chapter 2.
If you want the reality of what probably does happen (from a pessimist), go to Chapter 3.
Feel free to read either, neither or both.
If you happen to be going through a break-up that cuts your soul apart. Keep on going. I promise it gets easier. I still absolutely adore the bastard that told me he didn't love me anymore, but I don't cry anymore over him.