Disclaimer: Gossip Girl, its characters and names don't belong to me.
Title: The End of Eden
Pairing/Character(s): Rufus/Blair
Rating: PG - 15
Word Count: 966
Spoilers: 1x14 'The Blair Bitch Project'
Warnings: … Have you checked the pairing? (I'm so going to hell for writing this. You know it's wrong when not even Chuck Bass would want to read it).
Summary: Temptation instead comes in the shape of a pair of pursed ruby lips, perfect chocolate curls, a sugary voice and an intriguing sparkle in her doe eyes.
The End of Eden
It really comes out of nowhere.
The sky does not turn crimson, rain of fire pouring from it, turning everything into ashes. The oceans and rivers do not become blood, the ground is not painted scarlet. There are no thunderstorms, no horns in the distance announcing the end of days. No horsemen of the Apocalypse come riding on their hellish steeds, there is no angel and no flaming sword. As a matter of fact, there is neither tree of wisdom nor serpent. Temptation instead comes in the shape of a pair of pursed ruby lips, perfect chocolate curls, a sugary voice and an intriguing sparkle in her doe eyes.
He never sees it coming, because this sort of things don't happen to people like him. He does not believe himself to be one of the chosen ones, he knows he has never been a candidate for sainthood. He doesn't even believe in what they've taught him to, he's always been his own person, his faith has never been swayed for what he was told to believe in. However, he doesn't consider himself to be perverse, he doesn't think he's earned a punishment from God himself. Truth be told, he's always thought that God, if He even existed, had more pressing matters than worrying over him.
He has faith, though. He believes in what's right and wrong and even though at times it might be hard to tell the difference, he has always tried to follow the path his conscience dictated him. He's tried to be kind and patient, understanding and honest. He has not always managed it, not always lived up to his own standards, but he is not a bad person. He is not a monster.
Or at least, he didn't use to be.
A flowery, sightly intoxicating scent that is nothing like either roses or sandalwood; full lips curved into a sweet smile, a small, delicate white hand placed on his arm when she wants to draw his attention, always considerate, always polite. He doesn't understand, because it doesn't make any sense at all. In his dreams they were always tall and statuesque, golden locks he could entangle his fingers in, dreamy eyes as clear as a summer sky, barely concealing the steel in them. Rose and sandalwood, gold and marble, washed blue denim and black cocktail dresses: the substance of his desire has always been clear, consistent. Sane, logical. Perhaps a tad obsessive, perhaps a tad naïve – always wishing for what had passed, for what would not come back – but no less normal, no less human, because of that.
Now all sense has abandoned him and it's the forbidden taste of chocolate what draws him in, the scent of hydrangeas what hazes his mind. Ethereal gold has been replaced by earthly caramel, marble features have rounded and suffused with red, cheeks like apples he cannot dare to touch. A statuesque figure with never-ending legs is forgotten for a petite, lithe body, ivory turning into creamy skin that has never been grazed by washed blue denim.
The path to eternal condemnation starts with a twinge of true concern for his daughter, who looks less and less like the child he has always known and cherished with every passing day, and gratitude at the understanding and kindness in this girl's dark eyes. She played you, his little girl will say later, his little girl who has just stolen a dress worth a thousand dollars for each one of the years he has taken care of her, his little girl, who is so confused and messed up trying to be someone she'll never be, she doesn't have to be and yet, has a better understanding of the ways of the world than he does.
But there are things his little girl's clear eyes can't see yet, things he will never enlighten her about. He won't tell her the reason he never bothered to see past the girl's façade was becaue he was too worried over keeping his in place, too worried over concealing treacherous, unforgivable thoughts that would taint his mind and soul when those ruby lips curved into a smile, when her lithe body was too close for comfort, when light shone over her chocolate, always perfectly in place curls. The sanctuary of his own kitchen, the place where he's shared so many innocent memories with his children, has now become into his own private hell, flames and chains replaced by balloons and Rice Krispie treats, eternal punishment in the form of a young girl – far too young, far too unaware of her own allurement, far too close and too distant at the same time.
The expulsion from Eden does not come by a serpent's silvery tongue but a girl's dulcet tones, there's no tree of wisdom, just a twisted desire for what he could never have; the forbidden fruit is no longer an apple but a pair of ruby lips curved into a dazzling smile, all the more terrible because of her ignorance at the power its spell has over him. The end of innocence comes when he realizes what deep down he's always known: he will never earn his chance to be welcomed into Heaven. He might have strived to be a good man, a decent person for his entire life, but he is as flawed and twisted as anyone else around him, if not worse.
He watches her leave his house, his tarnished sanctuary with a mixture of relief and dread, because thoughts of her will remain in his troubled mind, because the stains she left on his soul will not be washed away, not when he still dreams of condeming himself forever just for one taste of the forbidden fruit…
… and for a fleeting, unforgivable instant, believes it might be worth it.