First ever fic guys. Be nice please :)
Seven year old Chuck Bass watched seven year old Blair Waldorf with inquisitive, dark eyes.
He watched as her big brown eyes became filled with a look of deep, almost believable confusion.
He watched as she shook her little head innocently, her chocolate brown curls bouncing just so.
He watched as their teacher, Miss Grace gave Blair a final appraising glance before straightening up and walking off to talk to the next child in the room.
Chuck Bass Watched Blair Waldorf lie through her straight, perfectly white teeth.
Of course no one would ever believe that sweet, fragile, delicate little Blair would ever do something as wicked as ruining Stephanie Winter's painting, but procedure insisted that when a class room incident occurred all pupils had to be considered. Blair was just too darling to do something like that after all. Surely her delightful brightly coloured dresses and prefectly coordinated matching headbands proved that. Her purity was clear to see.
However, Chuck knew they did not see. Not really. Not the way he did. They didn't notice the way her flawlessly custom made outfits and tightly wound curls were sometimes a little too perfect. The way her cherubic lips would sometimes twist to form a nasty smirk when something bad happened to a child or even adult that had displeased her. The way her wide, warm eyes would often narrow and become filled with – if you looked quickly enough, a shrewd coldness. A calculating clarity that usually later saw a terrible accident befall the little girl that had mocked Blair's daisy chain or the little boy that had pushed past her during recess.
No. No one truly had looked at Blair Waldorf long enough to realise any of those things. No one but him.
He had watched as Blair's face had become twisted with distaste as Nathaniel had complimented Stephanie's picture that afternoon.
He had watched as Blair had made her own personal analysis of said painting.
He had watched as Blair's eyes were instantly drawn towards the faults Stephanie's work so blatantly contained. The way the door was far too narrow, the way the upstairs windows were evidently too close together and the way in which Stephanie's paint had clearly ran whilst she worked on the skyline so that the sun appeared to be melting from it's own blistering heat.
Chuck then witnessed Blair surreptitiously glance at her own artistic efforts. Her door was easily large enough for her houses, stick people inhabitants to fit through without complaint. Her upstairs windows were exactly three finger spaces apart. Her paint had been thick and rich enough to deliver brilliantly vibrant results rather than watery suns and too green grass.
However, no one mentioned her picture. It lay on the table right next to Stephanie's and yet Nate never gave it a single ounce of attention.
Later, when the arts and crafts things had been tidied away and hands had been washed for snack time Chuck had watched Blair once more.
He watched as she stealthily sneaked over to the "messy area" whilst all the other children played outside.
He watched as she ignored all prior warnings relating to entering the area without supervision.
He watched as she filled one of the empty paint pots used for storage purposes, with the murky, brown water of the sink where the dirty equipment of that day soaked.
And finally he watched as Blair carried the sloshing pot towards the drying area and then with a vicious little glint in her eye, upturned it's contents all over Stephanie's masterpiece.
Seven year old Chuck Bass had his musings rudely interrupted by the soft voice of Miss Grace. It was his turn to be questioned apparently. He half listened with evident disinterest as his teacher enquired as to his involvement with that days fiasco. For once Chuck could say with full, whole hearted honesty that he had had nothing to do with the latest offence, but for some inexplicable reason he had faltered. Rather than pledge his lack of blame he had glanced quickly around the room and in doing so locked eyes with the guilty party herself.
"I did it."
The words were out of his mouth before he could control them. Something about the way Blair Waldorf's gaze had pinned him in his place had made him tell one of his characteristic lies.
Miss Grace sighed and gave him a long suffering look. "Of course it was him" she thought as she straightened back up to her full height. There had not been one incident in all her time teaching this group of children in which Charles Bass had not had direct involvement. His reputation was known throughout the whole school. He was an arrogant, haughty and badly behaved brat and that really was all there was to it.
"Very well Charles," she said in a clipped, cold tone. " come with me while we inform your father."
At these words Chuck snapped out of whatever trance he had momentarily been placed under. "Not again" he thought as he sullenly made to follow the teacher to her little office. He knew how angry his father would be, how disappointed. The other children muttered and gave him disapproving looks as he skulked by. Stephanie Winters glaring at him more so than any one else. He looked around, hoping to spot Nathaniel, his best friend. One reassuring face in the sea of grim expressions . Instead he spotted her. Blair. She was looking at him with wide eyed curiosity and as he met her eyes for the second time that day her face lit up in a brilliantly devilish grin. It was only for a moment. A second. If he had blinked at the exact right moment he would have been sure to miss it. However, he had not missed it. He had been very, very aware of that grin and the strange fluttering feeling it had introduced in his little stomach. The feeling left no room for any other emotion and seven year old Chuck Bass found himself suddenly completely indifferent to his father's steadily approaching fury.