Blair:

I woke up in a bed that was not my own. And there was an arm draped around me that definitely wasn't Nate's. What the fuck?

And then I remembered: Nate and I had broken up. Then came Victrola. Then came the limo with Chuck, and then the encore at his suite-

Oh my god. The arm was Chuck's.

I looked behind me, and he was holding me, still asleep, with a content look on his face.

If there was one thing I knew, it was this: Chuck Bass was not a snuggler. And yet, there we were. Spooning.

His eyes were closed, his mouth set in a peaceful smile. Something told me that Chuck never spent the night. He never let the girl sleep in his bed. If I was one of his normal conquests, I would have been out before the sunrise, and he would be sleeping in this bed, alone.

But he wasn't. I was here.

I knew this scene should have been different for me, too.

It was always going to be rose petals, a champagne bottle, lit candles, and Nate. In that version, I would have gotten up early the morning after to freshen up and put my lingerie back on, because I would have felt too exposed naked. It would have been perfect.

But instead I got the back of a limo and Chuck. In this version, I wasn't insecure at all. Because Chuck certainly wasn't perfect, so I didn't have to pretend to be.

It was natural.

Natural and Chuck Bass in one thought, I mused. How strange.

But it sort of fit in the moment, just like how our bodies fit together now. It was like we were made to cuddle together.

Color came to my cheeks as I thought this newest development through. Was it possible that I could actually be...falling for Chuck?

The sex was good, I had to admit. Even though it was my first time, it wasn't awkward or clumsy like some of my friends had described losing their virginity (Serena hadn't discussed hers, oddly enough). I finally understood why Chuck was worshipped by so many women: experience pays.

But was that enough to cause this feeling? I felt butterflies. Butterflies were reserved for Nate, although he hadn't exactly been provoking those lately, with all his pointed stares at a certain blonde, and his issues with The Captain...

Nate was my boyfriend, though. Right?

The butterflies reared up as Chuck murmured my name in his sleep. If that was true, why did this feel so right?

Had the devil of the Upper East Side melted the one and only Ice Queen?

All of a sudden, I saw the Gossip Girl post. I saw all the girls thinking I was another of Chuck Bass's sluts, and Nate never wanting to see me ever again. I couldn't be melted. This was wrong.

I had to do something to free myself of my sins. Confession, that's what I would do.

But then I looked at the clock, and realized that it was only 6:53 AM. Icing myself over could wait another hour or so.

Because lying in his embrace was just too damn comfortable, felt too damn right...

Chuck:

I woke up in a more peaceful state then I had in a long, long time. What had made this night different than all the others?

And then I remembered the girl I was holding in my arms. And my breath slowed down. I think my heart almost stopped.

Blair Waldorf. The object of my affections since Nate had made her his girlfriend and I knew I wanted her. That was back in Kindergarten.

It had been hard, all these years with nothing to prove that a relationship was going to happen. So I went with teasing, and scheming, and overall being a friend when Nate and Serena failed to be.

It was the image of her that had gotten me though some half-hearted hookups. If this had been another girl, she would have been out of here hours ago.

I never wanted to hurt our delicate friendship. And I didn't want her to be hurting because of her breakup. But, hell, I wouldn't have dared stop her when she started stripping, much less when she kissed me in my limo.

And she had stayed. I knew she had awoken, I had felt her stirring a little while ago, and I had braced myself for impact. Her pushing herself away from me, asking me why I would do this to her, pulling her away from Nate.

But instead she sighed (it sounded suspiciously like my name), rolled over, and placed her little head and chestnut curls on my chest. I could finally let out a breath.

She knew it was me and she was okay with it. Probably later she wouldn't (I knew I would get hell for it at her birthday party, if I was even invited), but now I relaxed.

I knew I probably wouldn't get another morning with her in probably my whole life. I would have to do with more prostitutes and whores that resembled an aspect of Blair. The Chuck Bass mask would slide back into place the moment she left.

Because I would not, could not, let anyone know that Chuck Bass has fallen for a girl. Blair freakin' Waldorf, for crying out loud. I could have anyone on the island and I chose to fall for my best friend's girlfriend.

Lucky Nathaniel. He didn't know how good he had it. Normally, I wasn't envious of anyone, but for a fleeting second, I realized I wanted to be him for a day. Just a day. And I would treat Blair differently, not for granted.

If there's a God, please.

Was I... praying? Chuck Bass didn't pray.

This mask needed to come back on, now. I didn't fall for any girl, no matter how much I liked her. I deserved to be single. I didn't deserve her.

So I should act like it. Blair was just another girl. She and I would go back to partners in crime.

So, for the sake of our friendship, she had to go.

But it was only 6:58, and this embrace felt so warm...