Disclaimer: I own nothing.
AN: Originially published on the books section for Gossip Girl, I've decided to put it here, along with a few tweaks.
What is this I feel, why is it so real
What am I to say
It's only love, it's only pain
It's only fear, that runs through my veins
It's all the things you can't explain
That make us human
-"Human"; Civil Twilight
He finds her sprawled out on the bathroom floor, legs at an angle that hardly seems comfortable and silk black dress riding up. Normally, this would be perfect material for one of his usual comments, but this time he keeps quiet. Quickly looking behind him to make sure no one else followed, he walks inside the room and closes the door.
She doesn't flinch when the lock clicks; doesn't even lift her head off the wall to open her eyes and see who the intruder is. Maybe she doesn't care. Maybe she knows without looking.
He sighs, loosening his black bowtie slightly. The room is silent for a moment as he takes in the scene before him. He eventually walks closer to her, flushing her dinner down the toilet as he walks by it. He flops down to lean on the wall beside her, expecting no response. They both sit in the dark for a while, the monotonous ticking of the clock on the other side of the wall finding its way through the bare, blue walls.
"I'll never be enough for him," she whispers tearfully, taking her headband off and placing it on the floor beside them both.
He doesn't say anything because she's right. His expectations are too average, too fixed on a blue eyed vixen that laughs too loudly, shines so brightly it hurts your eyes rather than opening them. He looks at her when she shakes her head, the facts she had refused to accept becoming more potent with each passing second.
She feels a burning sensation in her stomach that makes her want to stay in the bathroom, in the dark corner, forever. Where she doesn't have to watch them share looks that hold forbidden words every time they think her head is turned the other way.
He watches her try to hold back tears that are fighting their way out of her system, and knows how much she hates letting anyone see her cry. She is strong, tough, and has the ability to make anyone think twice before speaking down to her. She is not insecure. She is perfect.
He lays his fingers on her wrist, rubbing her arm gently.
"I'm sorry," he finally tells her. It's not much of anything, but he's the best friend and it's all he's allowed to do.
She scoffs, letting out a small smile at his words, even with her glossy eyes. "No, you're not."
"Don't ruin the moment."
"Didn't realize we were having one."
"Are you okay?" he asks, really wanting to know.
The small smile she had gained dropped, and she quickly took her arm back from his grasp to wipe her eyes.
"I will be." Not today, not tomorrow. Eventually, they both knew.
He accepts her answer, standing up. Quickly, he tightens his bowtie once again and brushes off his suit. Extending a hand, he helps her up.
He watches her as she straightens her dress and puts her headband back on. As she looks at herself in the mirror, he can tell she's staring at her nonexistent flaws, but doesn't say anything and waits for her to compose herself.
After another minute of self-critique, she puts a smile on her face, this one a bitter substitute for any real happiness, and turns around. Nodding, he unlocks the door and opens it for them both to leave.
"You know, your dress was pretty indecent back there," he whispers as they make their way down the staircase. "Not that I'm complaining."
Her stiletto heel meets his shin, and she rolls her eyes before turning the corner.
Smirking, he walks the opposite way.
No names, though any viewer of the show should know who it is. I mean, seriously. I'm not that subtle.
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