"Find Me Here
Speak To Me
I want to feel you
I need to hear you
You are the light
That's leading me
To the place where I find peace again.
You are the strength, that keeps me walking.
You are the hope, that keeps me trusting.
You are the light to my soul.
You are my purpose...you're everything.
You calm the storms, and you give me rest.
You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall.
You steal my heart, and you take my breath away.
Would you take me in? Take me deeper now?
Cause you're all I want, You're all I need
You're everything,everything
You're all I want your all I need
You're everything, everything.
You're all I want you're all I need.
You're everything, everything
You're all I want you're all I need, you're everything, everything.
And How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?
How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"
Everything- Lifehouse
It's his very first social event since Bart's death and all he can think about is how stupidly adamant his father always was that he bring a date to these shin digs. "Give the right impression," he called it. As though one night as an escort would redeem his past indiscretions.
He is the face of Bass enterprises now and his father's words ring truer than ever before. And because he is so angry that his father is still dictating his every action from the grave, he resolves to pick the sluttiest ho in the tristate area. A moment to ponder and his list now begin and ends with Georgina Sparks. She's not just a tramp, she's a blue blooded tramp and that means the only person to be fully conscious of the insult he intends to inflict is his dead father. Excellent.
He almost smiles when he picks her up, the door opening after a decent half hour of waiting in the vestibule of her apartment and helping himself to what is the first of the many Scotches the evening will bring. Because she's wearing a wedding dress- the Victorian kind with yards of white lace trailing behind her as she crosses the room. It's more conservative than anything he's ever seen her wear before, with a corseted bodice, sweetheart neckline and long sleeves. Only when his gaze leaves her bosom and reaches the smoky blue eyes and ebony curls that he realizes it's still her. There is movie blood splattered down the front- it suddenly clicks that she is dressed as the Bride of Chucky.
His Zorro mask is clearly irrelevant.
She slips her fingers through the crook of his elbow and he tries not to think about how no one has done that since his father's wedding. There's this one photograph that is stuck into his new wallet. Lily had the maid put it there. Its one of him and her. He remembers being stunned by it and never having the courage to throw it away. Chuck puts that memory out of his mind. He doesn't want to remember that he is a coward.
It brings up far too much bitterness and he can't be audacious and bitter at the same time. Well, he can but it's a challenge and he's too tired now.
They step over the threshold of the Waldorf Astoria and the tightness in his chest is augmented because it's more than just the name that reminds him of her. It's the Old Hollywood glamour, the fine wine and the scent of freesias. He can't breathe because she's the air around him.
Serena is slinking around with Humphrey and her new boy toy, clearly playing them against each other. It seems to be working until she plants a kiss on Aaron's lips. Because something inside Dan snaps right then and the desperation that's coloured his emotions for so long is gone. The stony look on his face is one Chuck has only seen once before. In a mirror.
The thought is so disturbing that he promptly resolves to get very drunk. And then his date leads him to the bar, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, with a wicked smile on her lips- telling him how grateful she is for the reprieve and she seems to assume it's some kind of trans continental booty call.
He thinks he just might kiss her because he remembers all of a sudden that her lips used to taste of berries once upon a time. Would the flavour still linger?
She looks sexy as sin and he's just about to commit when they are rudely interrupted by some loser in tuxedo, calling her Miss Swan and wooing her in the style of some crass new romantic hero. He's apparently mistaken Georgie for a normal gooey eyed teenage girl.
Gross misconception as that it, Sparks takes it in her stride. Her voice is shaking with laughter as she explains her costume. "And," here she concludes, with relish, "Is Chucky."
The guy's backing off but Chuck's already lost interest. The girl on his arm and the drink in his hand suddenly make no sense because he's already drunk, stoned, high and completely gonzo the moment Blair Waldorf steps into the room. She's the Queen of Hearts and he allows himself a moment to appreciate her astounding beauty and the fact that his cravat is the same deep red as her gown. Once again they match, without even trying. He's scared that any moment now he's bound to forget that he's turned the tables and she's supposed to be chasing him. He is so intoxicated by her presence it's a miracle he doesn't fall on bended knee and beg her to take him back.
And then she's disengaging herself from the clasp of the courtier on her arm. She's moving towards him, the crowd parting before her like the Red Sea for Moses.
"One dance?" The plea in her eyes belies the confident tone.
He takes her in his arms wordlessly and they step onto the dance floor. He feels her sigh as their bodies collide and he gulps.
The rich, decadent and utterly meaningless world around them melts away and they are circling each other. Dancers, lovers, warriors. In that moment they are all that exists and all that will ever matter. Her heart is thudding frantically when he pulls her back in and it shocks him how well she melds into his embrace. The music rises and falls, the sole memory of their lost world and last dance. She's weaving this spell that transports them both into the past and he remembers a time when physical intimacy was enough. This thing they have has spun out of proportion and out of control. Their last two dances ended on the premise of fear for either of them. This time they are completely in sync and both are terrified out of their wits.
They are spinning out of control and when her skin slips against his; its electric and he can feel the air around them crackle and sizzle. She gasps as his grip on her tightens. She's swept off her feet in the literal strength of the word and astounded by how easily he lifts her up. He dips her back flawlessly- one last move before this moment they share ends. Everyone is transfixed by them when they fall apart. He realizes the dance floor is empty. It's the cinematic scene she's always dreamed of.
"I want you," she breathes. And he can feel himself break. It takes all his resolution to shake his head. Her dark eyes dart in Georgina's direction and he hates the desperate hurt on her face.
"Why are you here with her?" Her eyes are watering up.
"I meant what I said." He wishes he could make her see. Walking away is the most romantic thing he's ever done. And he'll do so as many times as he has to. Till the future finally catches up with them.
