A/N: I'm ignoring the most recent "Grandfather" episode. Although, I am using the whole idea of Nate and Blair back together. I know, gag me. Also, sorry for another shower scene, but I absolutely adore them for various reasons. I'm not totally in love with this one, but it's sort of just been sitting on my computer so I thought I'd put it out there. If you're a Grey's Anatomy fan you'll probably catch a little allusion to Owen/Cristina. Enjoy and please review. THANKS!!
P.S. How 'bout them new CB pics?? * snickers * YAYY! CB FTW!
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Someday
Dorota let him make his way up the stairs without a word. He slowly pushed open the cracked door to Blair's room. It was completely dark except for a small sliver of light coming from the bathroom. He heard the shower running as he walked closer towards the light. He thought about walking in, maybe stripping off his clothes and joining her. He'd slam her against the slick tile and kiss her madly like no time had passed at all. He always thought of these things.
She'd probably be mortified. Blair had been dating Nate for over three weeks now.
He decided against it.
Instead, he just sat quietly on her bed. His hands glided over the silken sheets as he brought his legs onto the bed and lowered his head down to her pillow. The smell of her perfume filled his nose. His hands wrapped around the pillow, holding it close.
He knew not to stay long; Blair could easily walk out any second.
He let out a slow sigh before getting up to leave. He'd done this at least once a week since the elevator incident. It was all he could have of her…. the fleeting smell of Chanel No. 5 in a darkened bedroom. It wasn't enough but it made it a little less difficult to get through the day. That's about all he could ask for at the moment.
His feet hadn't even touched the ground when he heard a small wail come from the bathroom. He instinctively ran towards the door but stopped himself just before throwing it open. He waited, gripped the doorframe and pressed his ear against the wooden door, listening.
It was Blair. She was sobbing. He had never heard such anguish. They were full, guttural moans of sadness. Loud and unabashed, she let out every ounce of emotion she had held in for so long.
He couldn't just stand there and do nothing so he slowly cracked the door just to peek and make sure she was ok. She was sitting in the shower, the water running down her naked spine. Steam filled the room and little droplets of water trickled down the mirrors, hands clutching her shins, head held low on her knees. Her hair was stringy around her shoulders, her face plain without make-up. She looked so thin, so pale and sickly. Even in torment, he thought she was gorgeous.
Blair held her knees close to her chest. The cold tile pressed against her back gave her goose bumps.
He opened the door fully. She saw him immediately. She thought for a split second about denying it all on a stubbed toe or a dropped shampoo bottle on her foot but there was no use. He knew better.
He always knew.
Blair braced herself for some cruel comment on how pathetic she was.
Crying in the shower? Really? Cliché much? Get over yourself Waldorf.
Chuck never said a word though. Her sobs subsided a little as she watched him. Her eyes locked with his, she bit her lip, holding back the tears.
She hadn't known what came over her when she stepped into the shower. The hot water hit her skin and suddenly, a bomb exploded. Every ache, every pain hit her so quickly all at once. Chuck, Nate, her Father, Mother, Cyrus, Yale, the list went on. She felt as if her life was falling apart piece by piece. Her dreams and ambitions, everything that Blair had held so dear to her heart were gone. Her relationship with Nate was nothing but a cop-out. She was a coward and she knew it. Her one and only stood before her. It was just all too real.
He slowly slipped off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, setting them on the counter behind him. His movements were methodical. Keeping his gaze on hers, he takes off his pants and then his shoes, folding them neatly. Wearing only his boxer-briefs he stepped towards the glass door of the shower but doesn't open it.
Her teeth chattered audibly as he waited for silent acceptance that he could enter.
A flutter of eyelashes and she looked down. Chuck assumed that was a yes, and pulled the door toward him.
His bare feet touched the tile. The water was freezing; he reached to turn it up hotter then bent down to her level. He was almost scared to touch her. It'd been so long. He didn't know how'd she react.
Would she slap him? Tell him to get the hell out? He did it anyways. She was worth it.
He brought his fingers slowly to her forearm. Blair tensed slightly. She raised a shaky hand to his chest and brought herself into his embrace. He held her just like that for half an hour. She sobbed into his shoulder and he drew circles on her back.
They spoke no words. There were no words that needed to be said. She was completely exposed, naked against his chest, and yet, she had never felt safer.
Their hands had become swollen and creased. Her crying had quieted down and she held her ear to his chest listening to his rhythmic heartbeat. The water heater had begun to die out; they sat cradling each other in a cascade of lukewarm water. She started to shiver again. He tried to warm her up by rubbing her arms but friction was no use. She needed to get dry.
Chuck helped her up until she got her footing; her knees were wobbly from sitting so long. She gripped his arm for dear life as he reached for a towel.
He wrapped her shaking body in the white towel and used a smaller one to wring out her wet hair. His hands moved towards the larger towel, loosening it a bit from her body to dry her off.
Blair was completely fixated as he dragged the towel across her shoulders, down her arms, over her stomach and back, her bottom, and legs, and finally her feet. He pulled himself back up and wrapped the cloth around her body, pulling it tight and pushing a corner in between her breasts to keep it intact. The whole time he never touched her skin to his. The towel became a buffer of sorts. Blair's eyes became welled with tears. It didn't make sense. Why was he here? What was he doing, dripping wet and comforting her? They had barely spoken since she started dating Nate. She thought he hated her.
His hand wound its way around her waist and guided her towards the bedroom. Blair sat down exactly where he had laid just earlier, her red-rimmed eyes glued to the carpet.
He brought his hand to his head and rubbed his temple. He turned and headed back towards the bathroom and dried himself off. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he made his way out of the bathroom towards the stairs.
"Chuck?" Her voice sounded disjointed and raspy.
He turned around.
"Clothes. I'll be right back."
"Oh," a sigh escaped her lips. She looked like a helpless little child denied playtime in the summer. It was tragic, really.
He returned minutes later with pajama pants and a sweater from her father's old closet. Mr. Waldorf had taken most everything with him but left a few items here and there.
Blair was in the exact same position as when he left her. Her shoulders hunched and her head drooped low. She seemed so foreign. Nothing of the old Blair remained on that bed.
He walked over to her closet and pulled out a set of cashmere pajamas and a pair of fresh underwear.
When he walked back into her room she was gone from her spot on the bed. He glanced around until he saw her looking out her window. He walked towards her, careful not to frighten her.
"Here," his voice only a whisper.
He held the clothes in front of her face. She just continued to stare out the window, not even noticing he was there. The moonlight cast a bluish glow across her face, reflecting off the sheen of her iris.
"Blair, come on. Please."
She looked down and brought her hands to her towel. It fell to the floor with one swift movement.
She turned towards him, completely naked. She looked at him with hooded eyes, her face solemn.
See me Chuck. This is me. See me.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head. She was so beautiful. Didn't she know how much this hurt him? She was shoving herself in front on him but he couldn't do anything. She wasn't his to take anymore. She never really was.
Her eyes were fixed on his closed lids.
He doesn't want you. You disgust him. He won't even look at you.
A sigh. He tried not to look but brought his gaze to her eyes.
Her eyes were glassy and empty. He'd never seen her like this.
His jaw tightened and he swallowed hard.
"Raise your arms"
She brought them up robotically; she'd do anything he asked of her. Her dad used to always say "TOUCHDOWN!" and she'd lift them up as high as she could. Harold would tickle her until she couldn't breath, her giggles echoing throughout her bedroom. But those were better times.
Chuck moved the sweater over her arms and head, and down her chest. He tried not to touch her breasts. For once in his life, it wasn't just about him anymore. There was no attempt to grope or graze. Chuck Bass was being selfless, who would've thought?
His stance dropped to a crouch as he held her underwear open for her to step in. One leg at a time, she raised her left and then her right leg into the holes. His fingertips slowly glided along her creamy legs, an upward gaze fixed upon her, his mouth slightly agape. She watched him carefully, her brow furrowed. As he got closer towards her, she stopped him. It was the least she could do. She grabbed the edges of the cloth, grazing his hands and pulled it over her bottom.
He still knelt before her, his knees flat on the floor. He would worship her until the day he died. Blair, she was his queen. His hands fell limp on his knees, his gaze intense on hers. Then, gradually, he moved his fingers towards the top of her foot, dragging them raggedly towards her ankles and up. He tightened his grip around the back of her calves, brought his body up on his knees and kissed the top of her thigh. His hands fell back lazily to his sides.
Blair looked down in adoration.
He stood up and took her hand. He guided her to her bed and she sat down underneath the covers.
He turned around and grabbed a brush from her vanity drawer; her heart pin sat there glaring at him. He shut the drawer.
Chuck strode over the bed and got in with Blair. She sat cross-legged in front of him as he began to gently comb her hair. He started at the bottom and worked his way up, careful not to pull too hard.
The silence was deafening.
"Are you going to tell me why you were in my bedroom at 10 o'clock at night?"
He stopped brushing for a moment, pondered his answer, and then began brushing again.
"Are you going to tell me why you were crying in the shower?"
"I would if you asked."
"I'm not going to ask."
"Ok."
He didn't need to ask. He already knew her life was falling apart. Yale was gone. Her father was disappointed in her, and her mother and Cyrus had left her for a month long rendezvous.
And then there was him. He'd hurt her too many times. No wonder she'd ran to Nate for solace. She had nowhere to turn.
But he was here now. Chuck hoped that counted for something.
"You never answered my question."
"What question?"
He knew what question. He just didn't want to answer it. Finally reveal to her how hopelessly in love with her he was? Coming to her bedroom to sniff her pillow? No thanks. He'd pass.
"Don't play games with me Bass. Why are you here? Her tone was stern.
"You needed me."
"I don't need anybody, least of all you."
He sat down the brush and brought his hands to her hair, twisting it in his fingers. His hands fell to the top of her clavicle and he placed a small kiss on her shoulder. Her back stiffened as her breath became shallow, a shiver running up her spine. Memories of her seventeenth birthday filled their minds. Oh, how simplistic it had been then. Just diamond necklaces, whispered words of passion, and sex in the shadows. She wished she could turn back time, do it all over again. She never would have gone with Nate the night of the Debutante ball. She could be so blind sometimes, so juvenile, so ignorant.
"Maybe I need you Blair."
"Oh yeah?" Her voice cracked, but she tried to hide it.
"Yeah."
Blair leaned her head back to his shoulder, relaxing her neck. He moved his hands around her waist and kissed her exposed neck. Her lids closed slowly. This was so wrong, but it felt so right.
"How often do you come?" She spoke soft as if whispering a secret.
He paused, "A lot."
"I miss you," she shakily held back sobs. His hands clutched her tighter to his chest as she moved her hands over his.
"Leave him, leave him for me." He was practically begging, his tone filled with desperation.
She twisted around to face him. Her brow was wrinkled; her eyes looked saddened and confused. She locked eyes with him. His expression was indescribable, filled with hope, sorrow, adoration, and wonder all at the same time.
"And then what? Will we be together? A couple? We're not ready; you know we're not ready." Her voice broke. She couldn't do this, it would end badly, she just knew it.
She turned around again; she couldn't look at him. He'd be her downfall, no doubt.
"I need you to leave Chuck." She needed him to leave; she didn't want him to.
Her breath caught in her throat. She removed her hands from his and turned to sit up on the side of the bed. She knew he was watching her, but she couldn't look at him. One look and she'd turn back on everything she said. He never had to say a word to tell her exactly what he was thinking.
He got up wordlessly, grabbed his things from the bathroom, and walked towards the door. He was utterly broken and she knew it. She had done this to him. It made her body physically ache.
She watched his retreating figure, her heart breaking with every step. She wanted him so badly, but the fact was they weren't ready. They both had a lot of growing up to do, but there was no doubt in her mind that eventually, they would be together. She would marry this man. She would bare his children and grow old with him. Blair knew the outcome was certain; it was the path she was unsure of.
She got up quickly right before he shut the door.
"Chuck, wait."
He stopped, keeping his back to her. His head was still bowed as he turned to face her.
"I'll always love you. You know that right?" Her tears cascaded down her cheeks like a waterfall.
His lids closed tightly, but he nodded his head in acknowledgment. She reached forward to grab his one empty hand.
"Look at me… please, look at me." She pleaded with him; she needed him to see her, to realize how much he truly meant to her. Her brow furrowed; her eyes filled with regret and guilt.
He slowly raised his gaze to meet hers. His eyes were rimmed red, tears welling at the bottom. His lip quivered slightly.
"I can promise you someday. I swear on my life Chuck. Someday."
Silence. Tears had begun to fall from the corners of his eyes, staining his shirt. Blair raised her other hand to wipe away his tears and brush the hair from his forehead. Her hand remained tangled in his hair as he looked down for a moment, squeezed her hand tight and moved into kiss her cheek.
He lingered near her ear, blemishing her cheek with his salted tears, "Someday." It was the slightest whisper, barely audible, but he knew she heard it.
With no other words, he gave her one last glance and left quietly. Blair cried herself to sleep that night, but despite this, she held a sense of hope within her. She would be with him. Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck.
Someday.
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A/N: Again, not my favorite, but I wanted to write something that had a more realistic ending. Chuck can't say those 3 words or ask her to marry him in every story… or can he??? Ha. Yes, I did just laugh to myself. No, I don't have a life. kthx bye.