Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl or anything pertaining to it except my writing.
A/N: Thanks for comin'. *smiley
Blair stood at her bedroom window, looking out over the familiar city landscape. Her city. The same she had seen for years whenever she'd needed guidance. The decision was taking its toll, leaving her with nothing. She and Nate had just gotten to a good place, but moving in together? Who would she be doing it for? Herself? To please Nate? To get back at Chuck for screwing with her life? The last option stuck uncomfortably in her mind, and she knew she had her answer.
Wanting to feel the cold beneath her palm, she lifted her hand to touch the cool glass… until an all too familiar voice said, "Hey," and her fingertips cringed back. "Chuck."
She turned then, glaring at him. "What are you doing here?"
He walked forward. "Well… I know you have a rather large decision to make and… I wanted to check on you. Make sure you're not jumping out of your… expansive window." He told her this with a glance at said window, lips turning up in the slightest.
"I was not," retorted Blair. "And I don't need to be checked up on by anyone–especially not by Chuck Bass."
"I understand," he replied easily. "But we both know how you are, with your… vengeance. You probably want to move in with Nate to piss me off." Blair bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. "Am I correct?" How? How did he always manage to know exactly what she was thinking? Sometimes even before she had the time to think it…
Instead of replying to this Blair said, "And what is that supposed to imply, Chuck?" He chuckled lightly, under his breath. "It means you're doing this to convince yourself that you feel for Nate what we feel for each other. I know you'll deny that, so I'll drop it. For now. I really came here to apologize." Blair, disbelieving, took on an expression of skepticism. "Sure. I'll play. But only because I'm curious. For what are you sorry for this time?"
"I'm apologizing to you again, because I don't think you heard me the first time," he told her. "I'm sorry, Blair, for being so rude to you at the brunch. Being my wife is not supposed to be an insult, and I'm sorry that I made you feel less than what you are." He lowered himself onto the edge of her bed without asking if it was alright. But then, Blair figured, it was a little late in the game for pleasantries. Tentatively she followed suit, one leg folded beneath her.
"Thank you. I forgave you a while ago, really."
He looked at her. "Did you?"
She nodded. "Well duh. Obviously you're here to stay, Bass. Might as well try not to hate you." Quite the opposite, and they both knew it.
"Do you remember," Chuck began, "the party Nate had in eighth grade? For Christmas?" Blair could hear the amusement coloring Chuck's tone, and she had to smiled. "How could I manage to forget? You drank his father's Schnapps and got so drunk." She breathed out a laugh. "You could hardly stand."
Chuck laughed, similarly, a smile appearing on his own face as he played with his hands. "Yes. You all had to carry me to Nate's room to hide me from the Captain. And if my memory serves correct, Serena and Nate slept in his bed, while you and I–"
"Slept on his floor," Blair concluded. His laugh was bigger this time and without giving it a thought her smile widened. Chuck let out a short breath of air while Blair hoped he wouldn't notice her gaze on him. It was brief, though, and she looked away.
"Thanks for that, by the way," he murmured, referring to the floor incident. Blair shrugged at that. "What're friends for?" Friends. Pretending the word didn't make her sick, and not in the way she had grown used to the past years, she added, "But I still can't believe you drank. We were, what, 12?"
Chuck snorted, albeit bitterly. "Who cares? If you'd had to live with my father…" He trailed off, knowing it rude to speak ill of the dead.
"Hey," Blair said. He looked at her. "I know it isn't easy for you, with your dad. Wasn't easy for you. I always understood that, and I still do." Chuck's eyes locked with hers, and, surprisingly, he was the one to break the contact first. "I know. I was always grateful for that. You were the strongest woman in my life. You still are." Blair looked at him again, feeling red creep up her neck to her cheeks, grateful for the darkness of her bedroom. And what was she doing, sitting in her lightless bedroom with Chuck Bass? Way too familiar. If she didn't act fast…
"So," she said, pulling her careful guard back to its proper position, "was that all?"
Chuck paused only a moment before nodding once, his eyes on the carpet, and standing. "I believe it was." He had begun to walk towards Blair's door, but paused to look back at her. "Good night, Ms. Waldorf."
"The same to you, Mr. Bass."
The hint of a smile appeared on his lips before Chuck swept out of her room, leaving Blair in the dark.
