The Thawing
Chuck never knew his heart could beat until he saw Her. Multi-chap about Chuck's first encounter with Blair. AU, CB.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
xoxo
Chuck sips his scotch as he surveys the crowd at Serena's latest party. He's never been one to socialize with the lowly masses, and even though each and every attendee is wealthy beyond their means... Well, no one is good enough for Chuck Bass.
Chuck's eyes scan the crowd, falling on a pretty red-head with green eyes, freckles dotting her pale skin. He fucked her probably four or five days ago and as Chuck recalls, she was a terrible lay.
What do you expect from a virgin, Chuck thinks as he throws back the last of his beverage. He can't help but smirk.
Out of nowhere, a tall, hot blonde with legs that go on for miles crosses his path. Chuck grins deviously. He's definitely had those legs behind her head once or twice, and Ms. Blondie certainly didn't disappoint.
He orders another glass of scotch.
A plethora of beautiful dark curls quickly catches Chuck's eye. They belong to a petite girl whose back is turned to him, her green Herve Leger dress complimenting her slender curves perfectly. Chuck has never been with her. He would certainly remember fisting those curls as she went down on him.
Tonight, then, Chuck decides with a smirk as he starts towards the brunette. He doesn't get far, though, because the second the curly-haired girl turns around, Chuck stops in his tracks.
She is the most beautiful creature he's ever held witness to. Her lips are pink, plump, inviting, her eyes two dark gemstones set in the creamiest milky white skin he's ever seen. Chuck knows right then he has to have her.
The elusive beauty suddenly matches his gaze, and Chuck thinks that he might drop dead right there on the floor. But before he can, Chuck notices the glistening wetness threatening to drop from the goddess' eyes.
How could someone so beautiful be sad? he wonders. In Chuck's opinion, the only things needed to to achieve happiness are looks and money, and obviously this mystery girl has both.
He has yet to find an answer when the girl suddenly turns on her heel and begins to make her way towards the exit and out of his life.
Chuck drops the glass on floor, forgetting to pay as he pushes through the crowd, keeping his eyes locked on those tantalizing curls all the while.
He catches the girl right as she is stepping into a taxi. Boldly, he grabs her upper arm. "Let me take you home," Chuck implores, sounding more desperate than he intends.
"Get your hands off of me. I know who you are, Chuck Bass," the petite brunette hisses as she tries to pull away from him.
Chuck doesn't relent. "You know who I am. Good. So, then, enlighten me. Who are you?" His eyes bore into hers and Chuck can tell the girl is wrestling with herself, trying not to answer him.
To his relief, the beauty steps towards him and away from the taxi. Chuck lets her arm drop; he's gotten what he wants. "Why do you care?" she sasses haughtily, throwing her hands on her hips.
"Because I'd like to know the name of the girl I'm bringing home tonight," Chuck responds with a smirk. Oh, how Chuck wants to ravish her on the spot. But he can't. There's something different about this girl, something that draws him to her like a moth to a flame.
"You're a pig!" the girl snaps.
Okay, a very temperamental flame.
Chuck shrugs casually. "I meant I was dropping you at your place. It's not my fault your dirty little mind thought otherwise," he says nonchalantly. On the outside, Chuck looks cool, collected, and confident. Inside, his heart is threatening to burst out of his chest. He half-wonders if she can see the outline of his heart through his suit.
"Whatever," she replies, rolling her eyes. She pauses for a couple of seconds before adding, "I'm Blair Waldorf, if you have to know."
Blair Waldorf. So that's the name of this ethereal woman, this otherworldly divinity that's captured Chuck's heart and damn near melted its icy exterior. The last name sounds familiar – Chuck's pretty sure some wealthy fashion designer with the same surname lives in New York.
No matter, Chuck thinks. Leaning in towards Blair, he whispers lowly into her ear, "Well then, Blair, let's get you home."
"Fine," Blair agrees, before crossing her arms defensively and adding, "But only because you made my taxi leave."
She tells him her address and he guides her to his limo, opening the door for Blair. Chuck is amused as he watches her position herself at the far end of the seat.
Blair notices Chuck eyeing her. "What's with that stupid grin on your face? You look like an idiot," she snaps, annoyed.
Chuck's smirk remains firm. "Tell me, why haven't I seen you around the Upper East Side? Clearly you're a woman of good breeding." His hungry eyes scan Blair's figure from head to toe.
Blair snorts in disbelief. "You're disgusting. No wonder you have such a bad reputation around here." She crosses her arms and gazes distractedly out the window. She says with a distant voice,"And it's none of your business as to why you haven't seen me here. I don't even know you."
Chuck raises an eyebrow. He knows he's hit a sore spot. "And I don't know you, Blair, but I would like to. Tell me, did you get sent off to boarding school like Serena? Or perhaps you've done a stint in prison?"
He thinks he catches a glimpse of a smile as Blair shrugs, nonresponsive. Chuck decides to take a softer route this time. "You had been crying earlier at the party. Why?"
Blair stiffens. "Why do you care?" she mutters.
Why does he care? "I don't know," Chuck answers truthfully, "I just do." Chuck inches closer to her, gauging Blair's reaction. She doesn't seem to mind, let alone notice, as she stares at the passing buildings, deep in thought.
Minutes pass and the two sit in silence, Blair watching the blurred city lights and Chuck watching Blair. Suddenly, the silence is broken. "You shouldn't," Blair whispers. "No one cares about me and neither should you."
Chuck is floored. How could someone so perfect think that she is unloved? If he didn't know any better, Chuck would think that perhaps he is in love with her, right in this moment. He doesn't know Blair's life and doesn't want to offend her, so he takes a few seconds to search for a proper answer. "Now somebody does," Chuck says softly.
Blair slowly turns her head, eyes watering, her expression unreadable. "I used to live in Paris, with my father. He died of cancer a few days ago, and now I feel like I inherited his disease. I feel sick without him. My dad's the only person who ever worried about what happened to me. Because I'm bul–" she stops suddenly, before amending her words. "When I would get sick, he would always take of me. My mother would never do that for me and now here I am, forced to live with her. I haven't seen her in years and now all of a sudden she's sending me to these soirees and forcing me to get to know everyone when I haven't even had time to mourn my dad. 'The world doesn't stop turning when someone dies' she told me. I think it's just her way of coping, but it doesn't help me."
Chuck's breath hitches in his chest. He is both captivated and saddened by Blair, by her story that lets him see more and more of her with every new word. He reaches out to take her hand, surprised when Blair doesn't reject his touch. "My father acts like I don't even exist. My mother is dead. And everyone in the Upper East Side thinks I've got herpes." He adds in the last part on purpose, hoping it will make Blair laugh, and to his relief, it does.
She giggles, her laugh like tiny jingling bells. "Well, do you?" she asks with a small grin.
Chuck shakes his head. "I'm filthy but I'm not that filthy," he smirks.
Suddenly, the two realize that the limo has pulled up to the curb at the Waldorf penthouse. The two stare at each other in an awkward silence, neither one knowing what to say.
"Thanks for the ride," Blair says quickly, her cheeks flushing.
"You're welcome," Chuck replies just as quickly. He curses under his breath as he fumbles at the door handle, finally opening it and letting Blair out of the limo.
Blair stands on the sidewalk as Chuck leans on the limo door. They catch each other's stare again.
"Bye," Chuck says.
"Oh, right. Bye," Blair returns before turning around and walking rapidly towards the building's entrance.
Chuck taps his forehead on the top of the door. Goddamn did he mess that goodbye up. He could have kissed her, gave her a hug at least. But no, he says "bye". This Blair girl is really fucking with his head.
And for once, Chuck doesn't want it any other way.
xoxo