"He made me feel unhinged . . . like he could take me apart and put me back together again and again."
― Chelsie Shakespeare
A/N: I own nothing of Gossip Girl. Just the plot of this particular story.
Blair sits in her chair, sipping her pumpkin latte, and critiquing the latest fashion faux pas. She's grown up, matured, mellowed or whatever you want to call it.
But she's not Queen B anymore. At least, not in the way she used to be. And with that realization it dawns on her just how lonely she is.
It's not that she doesn't love Chuck. She does, very much so, but not the way she should. She doesn't love him like a wife, or a lover but rather in a vain sense. He's too much like her she discovers.
It made sense at the time. He's the same. They're practically the identical or one another. It's logical to marry the one who's just like you.
But as she sits in their kitchen, writing and sipping, a hauntingly big sense of loneliness surrounds her. It encompasses her like blanket, wrapping its vicious ends around her in a death like grip refusing to let go.
She sets the pen down and her drink, figuring that she won't get any more work done. It's a sigh that escapes her as Chuck comes home and kisses her cheek from another long day at work. He loves her, he does, but she wonders if maybe he sees her as himself.
She figures their marriage isn't necessarily love, but more so a reflection of themselves. They don't talk, or communicate about the deep things. It's all surface stuff, things that won't cause fights, or make one another angry.
They do fight though, and the sex is great, but Blair is growing tired of the routine of lavish parties and expensive ball gowns. She's tired of the fights lasting a few days over some idiotic business deal or failure to attend some business meeting as Chuck's wife. She can't tell why, she grew up in that lifestyle, but her job takes a toll and sometimes she wants to come home to watching a movie with a glass of wine in hand or read a book instead of going out and being all high and mighty. It's exhausting and she's really beginning to hate it.
Chuck doesn't get that and maybe that's what is causing her to rethink her decision of marrying him. She had seemed so sure of herself, but she had been nervous on her wedding day. It was just wedding jitters that everyone gets. Right?
…
Blair goes to see her parents. Her mother asks her about work and Blair smiles and tells her it's going well. Then the marriage question comes up and the brunette grits her teeth and forces out the words that it's superb. It's not, and she can't bear to tell them why because in all honesty, she's not sure herself.
But Cyrus notices her unease and tells his wife that he's craving radishes for some odd reason. Eleanor gives him a peculiar look but complies getting the hidden message. She leaves and then it's just Blair and her step – father at the table. He's gives her the knowing look and she sighs in response.
"Daddy, why did you marry mom?"
Cyrus sighs and gives her another knowing look. He's knows exactly where this conversation will go, and he's glad his daughter is beginning to realize something he knew so long ago.
"When I realized that we were the same but different."
"What does that mean?"
"We have very different personalities, but at the same time, we love the same things. We complete each other because we aren't the same but then again we are."
Blair gave him a confused look. "I don't understand."
"Your mother is a high and mighty woman, with power that rests on her shoulders and causes the world to quiver underneath her feet. I on the other hand am a fun loving guy who'd rather dance and sing than sit in some business meeting. That's how we're different."
"How are you the same?"
"We love the same things. Food is one of our secret passions. I love fashion as does she. We simply fit. Why do you ask?"
"I don't think Chuck and I fit. Not anymore."
"Sweetie I don't think you ever did."
Blair gives her step father an inquisitive look, urging him to go on.
"Chuck and you were very much the same person. Both had a cunning and ambitious side to you. But whenever you felt sad or unwanted, you never ran to him. He never could provide emotionally for you and that's a key thing to a successful relationship. You two are a reflection of each other, not two different people working together. Being with Chuck is easy, because he's you."
Blair stares at her plate, realizing that Cyrus was right. She chose the safe option because it was easier. But she and Chuck had lost the intimate love that she craved more than anything.
"There was one person who always fit you perfectly Blair. And I think you know who he is."
Blair kisses Cyrus on the cheek and thanks him for what he's done. She has things to do, things she thought she'd never have to commit but nevertheless it's here, and she has to accept that.
…
"I'm sorry Chuck."
"I just. I don't get it. We love each other."
"Not in the way we're supposed to."
"Blair that's not true."
Blair sighs, knowing it's hard to explain the papers that lay in front of him. Its morning and she had spent all day yesterday coming to this decision. It seemed inevitable really, as if it was going to happen whether she liked it or not.
She was no longer going to be Mrs. Chuck Bass, and for some reason, she was completely okay with that.
"You need time to think. Are you sick? Pregnant?"
"No Chuck. I'm in completely the right frame of mind. I'm sorry but…I don't love you. Not in the way you want me to."
"But we're good together. You complete me."
Blair sighs, tears brimming in her eyes.
"I don't complete you Chuck. I am you. You don't really know anything about me. You fell for the reflection you saw of you in me, but not me in general. Not Blair Waldorf."
"Fine. I'll sign the damn papers but once I do you better get the hell out of my sight."
She nods knowing this would be the reaction. It hurts to see him hurting but Blair refuses to change her mind. She may get Chuck but like Cyrus said, she saw a reflection of herself in him and mistakened it for love.
Chuck signs the divorce papers and thrusts it into her hands.
"Now get out."
"I'll send someone to get my stuff."
"Don't bother. I'll send it to you."
Blair nods and bites her lip. This is it. There is nothing more to say. She sighs, tosses her curls behind her back and turns to leave.
"Goodbye Chuck."
He doesn't respond back.
…
Blair gets her own flat. As much as she loves expensive things, she doesn't really want to have a big place all to herself. Dorota helps her move in and soon she's alone again, sitting at the kitchen table with a pumpkin latte in her hand. Her brown eyes look out the window as the sun slowly sets on the UES. She sighs and packs up her work leaving it for another day.
…
She's hiding out in her home; she knows it as well as UES. The divorce was splattered all over the news and she doesn't feel like going out to face the world. Not yet anyway.
Blair feels like a coward. She doesn't hole herself up in a room. Blair Waldorf faces everything head on, fighting till the end and daring anyone to cross her. She figures that with her maturity she's lost a little bit of that too.
…
She's walking into Starbucks getting herself something before she heads into the office. Her divorce is yesterday's news so she doesn't have to worry about being attacked on the street by photographers and strangers. It's blissful for once not to be in the spotlight and Blair finds herself enjoying much more than she ever though she would.
That's when she notices a book on a shelf in a bookshop beside the Starbucks. She lowers her sunglasses, peering at it in curiosity. Her eyes go wide at the author and she immediately runs inside and buys it.
…
It sits on her kitchen table. She can't bear to open it. Maybe it's because of his last one that revealed all too much or maybe it's because she's just afraid of what it could hold inside. Either way she doesn't touch it but rather goes to the source hoping he can shed some light on it before she dares do anything.
…
He still lives in the same trashy loft. Nothing's changed and Blair finds it to be a breath of fresh air. Normalcy with him is natural, it's good. And she hasn't experience anything good in a long time.
The brunette raises her fist and pauses as if she forgot how to knock. She just stands there with her fist raised, unable to complete her task. Fear seizes her heart because last time she checked he was married to Serena and she hadn't heard of anything else. Maybe they could be friends then.
She knocks and waits. Soon the door opens and there stands Lonely boy with his annoying, soft curls and ugly plaid shirt. Blair's mouth opens and the words can't come out.
"Blair?"
She gulps realizing that they can never be friends even if they tried. She turns around and runs as far away from his as possible.
No, they could never be friends again.
…
Blair reads the book, and falls in love with his words all over again. He's such a good writer, and knows exactly how to weave a tale of lost and cherished love. She has vague idea of who it's about, but isn't positively sure. It sounds as if it could be about Serena but her mind tells her it's really about her once again.
…
She sits in the café sipping her pumpkin latte as Nate watches her curiously. They're still good friends even after the messy divorce. He's with a new girl named Chelsea who he is head over heels in love with. She's different this time, Blair can tell because Nate's eyes glow when he talks about her. She's helped him grow up and Blair can't be more thankful to the girl who stole Nate's heart once and for all.
"Serena's in Australia by the way."
"Why would she be there?"
"Probably with her newest fling."
"She never could understand the good things she had."
Nate only nods in agreement.
…
It's splashed all over the news the next day. The divorce was worse than hers as the picture was of a very big and public fight in town square with the two of them. Blair sets the paper down and goes back to her work.
It's not her business what happens in their love lives.
…
She finishes the book. The brunette stares of into nothingness as realization drains itself into her blood. Cyrus's words echo in her head.
"There was one person who always fit you perfectly Blair. And I think you know who he is."
…
Blair heads straight to his loft, the book underneath her arm and her face down as to keep herself unnoticed. She wants to figure it out herself first before anyone else can know.
She gets there all too soon and bangs on the door in desperation. He opens it and her name is echoed.
"Blair?"
She holds the book in front of his face.
"Is it about her?"
He gestures for her to come in and she does, setting in on the counter and taking her coat off.
"Is it about her?"
He gives her that look of what do you think? She crosses her arms. It's a defence mechanism in case she's wrong. She doesn't want to get hurt.
"Is it about her? Or me?"
He slowly walks up to her and grasps her biceps, looking into her doe eyes, letting his own fear pour out. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.
"What have you done to me?" he whispers ever so faintly.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." she whispers back.
"It's always been about you."
He cradles her face and kisses her. It's like everything she remembered. Passionate and yet intimate. He's cured her of the craving she always had in the way Chuck never could and she wonders why she let him go.
…
They move to the bedroom, swiftly with clothes being discarded. It's reacquaintance, a memorization of each other, body and soul. She knows what he loves and hates and he reads her like the open book she is. He always understood her better than she did herself.
…
As they lay there she studies his sleeping form. Her hand runs through his messy curls, the ones she cherishes so much. It's a part of his charm she figures. Something that he wouldn't quite be him without.
She finally understands what Cyrus was talking about. Dan Humphrey was the one who knew her inside and out. He was born in a different world, raised as different way and yet somehow survived the cruel world of UES. He molded himself to fit in yet still stood out at the same time.
He wasn't a reflection of her inner vanity, but a person who communicated with her. He would sit on a couch and watch classics. He wouldn't force her to dress up when she didn't want to. He'd lie in bed for hours with her rather than get up and head off to work.
She was a being of intimacy and he offered it to her wholly.
His eyes slowly blinked themselves to life and she smiled at his sleepy form.
"I love you."
And she truly meant it.