Your eyes are broken bottles
And I'm afraid to ask
And all your wrath and cutting beauty
You're poison in the pretty glass
You're a wasp nest
Chuck Bass lay still by the shattered glass. Everything he had come to know had seemingly slipped away from him faster than he ever dreamt possible. A blurred smokescreen of magnified beauty was a lie, a lie he had preserved solely to satisfy his deluded state of mind. It had all crashed in a somewhat tepid spray of dilapidation, there was no one to turn to anymore and he knew he deserved that. He knew it now more than ever.
It had taken four months for him to willingly look himself in the mirror after what had taken place last year but not anymore.
Not after last night.
His head wasn't in any place to even think about what exactly had caused him to get so...physical, what he did know was that he had never felt such shame in his life, not even his heinous acts with Jenny and Serena all those years ago could even compare.
Blair.
He could feel his eyes swell with tears again, all night he'd retaliated against them valiantly but he wanted to submit more than anything. It hurt; his heart had never been subject to something as incandescent as this, he was certain he'd never be able to forget the look in her eye as she scurried away from him, back to her prince, forever.
His hand pressed over a few shards as he attempted to regain his footing but it was futile, utterly so, it only illustrated just how desperate he had been all night and that in itself compounded his already overwhelming misery. He couldn't even wince as the glass cut into his unwounded palm, it didn't matter anymore.
Nothing did.
The blame rested solely upon his shoulders, it was difficult to stomach but he'd been aware of it all along, it was just fear, he didn't want to accept the fact he'd crushed the one person who had shown him real unconditional love. He wasn't worthy of that title anymore, the cold hard truth was that he hadn't been for quite some time now. It was stupid to keep running away from it, not when it eventually swallowed him whole and lead to moments like this.
Blair.
His daze was so raw that he hadn't even noticed Nate step out. He was usually too busy dribbling nonsense on the phone to Raina these days, Chuck simply learned to not take too much notice of him, especially since he seemed to have gained Raina's menstrual cycle. It all just cemented the undertones raging in his head.
Nobody wanted to be near him anymore.
It wasn't what he wanted to think about, his mind was fixated on accentuating all the pain he had been supressing for so long. The last person he ever wanted to see him in that way was Blair Waldorf. He was terrified that she'd be intimidated by him forever now, or worse, legitimately frightened. His hold on her was evaporating and in truth, with the way things had been going, he'd always known it was a matter of time; he just didn't want to accept it.
Blair.
He didn't give her the respect she deserved; the past year and a half had been a disservice to what he had spent the previous two years obsessing over. He threw away everything he had wanted for so long and that was just so painful to verbalize because he could barely admit it to himself, he'd exhausted blaming all the external factors, it was fruitless.
Those words Blair uttered through her tears to him in the oak room two years were resonating more than ever.
Chuck Bass, the coward.
The cold echo of his internalized father was ringing loud and clear, he couldn't escape, no matter what he did. Even now, he felt as though he was being watched by him, he could picture him standing there with a shit-eating smirk, it almost petrified him as much as he hid himself.
What was left to feel?
Haphazardly, his hand shuffled around on the floor until he retrieved a suitable piece of glass. As he picked it up, he caught his distorted reflection, it was a trigger. He pressed the glass down against his uninjured hand and let his teeth sink deeply in to his bottom lip.
He needed to feel.
Blair needed to know he could still feel, for her.