title; drunken kisses
summary; and, finally, you succumb to your body's desire.
fandom; gossip girl
pairing; nate/jenny with mentions of nate/serena and jenny/damien
spoilers; season 2 and sort of season 3
rating; T
notes; well, i couldn't sleep and i had this strange idea, it's a bit confusing and is my first published gg fic, so if it's bad, please don't kill me! and i don't own gg nor the characters, if i did there wouldn't be any nv or ns. please comment! originally posted at my lj...
You don't know how all of this begins. Actually, you can't really think straight because a) he's kissing you and b) you had more alcohol than appropriate.
It really hurts, but the hurt is good and pleasant because you're a masochist who can't let him go even though you haven't talked properly since the damned Snowflake Ball and, therefore, spent more than a year fantasizing about feeling his lips against yours just like that night in front of Agnes' apartment. This time though, the familiar smell and taste of alcohol dominate the kiss, but you ignore it and focus on Nate's instead, seeking them and becoming more inebriated than you already are.
The kisses become more and more reckless and full of lust and, finally, you succumb to your body's desire, your mind blissfully blank.
But later, when your mind is still spinning and you are almost asleep from the excess of alcohol and exhaustion, the blissful feeling disappears and you feel empty. You feel the pieces of your already shattered heart break into pieces so small you doubt they can be put together again. Your breathing, almost even with sleep, turns into gasps and it hurts so much you feel like screaming and crying and opening your chest with a knife to take your heart out.
You try not to but you end up crying (it hurts and hurts, is it ever going to stop?. You look at him, at the content smile on his peaceful face and the horrible gasping sound that had subsided returns (you pretend it isn't your breathing because if you don't it just feels worse) so you close your eyes, hoping you can forget everything that happened.
Not knowing how long it really takes, you fall asleep (it felt as if it took an eternity), just to wake up early the next morning (where am I, where? You pretend you don't know) to an empty bed. He's gone and, when you look around, you spot a note.
I'm sorry
It's the same handwriting you saw briefly on the letter when he showed you that day, the same letter he supposedly confessed his love but you never received. You see red and, not bothering your state, you get out of the cold bed and angrily rips the piece of paper is pieces as small as your heart and then furiously wipes at your eyes, not caring if it smudges her makeup even more, wishing you could be as affected by this fling (you hate this word more than anything now) as he seems to be, wishing you could just go back to Damien without any problem just as he seems to do with Serena.