Title: Scripted

Word Count: 1,718

Rating: PG for mature themes

Warnings/Spoilers: 1.18 and 2.01

Summary: If this were a movie, they would kiss and make love and fall asleep on her silk duvet, tangled in the sheets and each other. They bth wished that life were scripted.

Official Disclaimer: All Gossip Girl plots and characters belong to Cecily von Ziegeser, Josh Schwartz and the CW. I do not own the people or the company. The characters I featured are not mine.

Blair lingered by the entrance to Serena's family's giant Hamptons mansion. She watched the cool water run through the concrete curves and dips of the fountain beside her and looked down at her perfect nails, just to distract herself from her jumbled thoughts as she waited for Marcus to pull around his car.

Chuck approached her from the back, walking slowly, wishing he could turn around and go back to the bar for a glass of something strong and alcoholic. But even looking at the back of her smooth, dark curls made him feel regretful and alone, and he knew what he had to do.

He didn't say anything as he came up behind her, didn't touch her bare shoulder or take her hand. She heard his footsteps; his dress shoes scuffing across the brick driveway towards where she stood.

Blair looked over her shoulder, trying to place the noise. She twisted her face into a look of disgust as she saw Chuck Bass: perfect white tux, perfect white pants, perfect dark hair and dark eyes. Eyes that she saw were, for the first time, filled with loneliness.

"Chuck." She stated his name full of anger, but her voice softened unwillingly as she continued. "Aren't you done trying to destroy my night?"

Chuck didn't even try with a comeback to another one of Blair's accusations; just moved forward with what he'd been planning to say, the words that had been running through his head all night. While he'd chosen a frighteningly skinny blonde girl to grope, while he'd excused himself from the death grip of that frighteningly skinny blonde he'd been groping, while he'd refilled his glass with his favorite amber-colored liquid for the fifth time and still hadn't eased the pain in his heart.

"Look, I never should have abandoned you." Chuck's voice was filled with perfect sincerity, and Blair's face relaxed completely for the first time that night. Without moving, she let her eyes cautiously blink up and down his body: from his cream-colored shoes to the navy tie around his neck to his still-pale skin and his sharp, handsome profile. "I knew I made the wrong decision as soon as your plane took off."

With each of his words, Chuck's voice grew progressively quieter and Blair's eyes progressively wider as she watched his every movement: the way his eyes stayed fixed on her, the way he pursed his lips, the way he shifted from foot to foot nervously.

"I distracted myself all summer…" Chuck went on, and it was certainly true. He'd distracted himself by lounging at various spots on private beaches with half-naked girls and copious amount of alcohol. He'd spent his whole summer in a daze, but even through the thick cloud of horribly musky women's perfume and the smell of scotch on all of his clothes, he couldn't forget. "…hoping I wouldn't feel it, but I still do."

He did feel it. He felt the way his skin tingled, his hands begging to move up and touch her face, her hair, her bare lips. He felt the way there always seemed to be an current running between them, a string of electricity that lit up her face and her eyes until he could tell what she wanted, what she was thinking, craving. He felt the way his stomach fluttered anxiously at the sight of her, seemingly full of those nervous butterflies.

"And?" Blair responded almost immediately, because she had to know if he still wanted her as much as she wanted him. She had to know if he lay awake at night, wishing she could be there, wrapped his warm embrace. She had to know if this was his way of saying, "I'm sorry." She had to know why he'd left her in the first place, had to know how she could possibly forgive him for what he did to her.

Chuck took a deep breath of the humid summer night air and his voice cracked as he tried not to break eye contact. "I was scared."

Blair's face was completely void of emotion; showing a blank, waiting for him to continue. But somehow, somewhere, deep in her eyes he saw care, compassion, and most of all, understanding.

"I was scared that if we spent the whole summer together, just us…." His eyes looked childishly afraid as he admitted outright how he'd been feeling, a first for him. "…then you'd see."

Blair was confused now. Chuck was self-conscious? He was afraid of what Blair would think if he took of the society mask he put on every day - a mask of silk bow-ties and evil smirks and a perverted glint in his eye - and was just himself? It didn't seem possible, but she could see it in the way he looked at her, hands fidgeting nervously at his sides and eyes barely blinking as he watched for her reaction. "See what?"

"Me." Chuck looked straight into her eyes, their deep brown irises feeling like they were burning a hole through his own. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to continue, but nothing came out. Chuck reached for her tiny wrists, taking them in his hands, and leaning close enough to her that he could feel her cool breath on his cheek, a welcoming breeze from the damp summer air. "Please don't leave with him."

"Why?" Blair's eyes flashed and flitted back and forth across his face. It wasn't that she wanted to leave with Marcus; in fact, she would much rather spend the night in Chuck's arms. But she wanted so desperately to know that this was real for him too, that he knew how much a risk they would be taking. She wanted to hear him say those three words, just so she'd know he had really always wanted her. "Give me a reason. And 'I'm Chuck Bass' doesn't count." Blair tried to make her vulnerable face look bored and unexpectant, but under his soft gaze, she failed completely.

"Because you don't want to," he said, like that was all there was to say.

Blair shook her head of dark waves. "Not good enough."

"Because I don't want you to-" Chuck started to plead, but Blair interrupted him before he could finish, turning her head away from the pain in his eyes.

"That's not enough."

Chuck's face was twisted; he knew what she wanted. He could feel his throat burning as he barely managed to say, "What else is there?" all while knowing exactly what there was left to say.

Blair stared into Chuck's dark eyes. They were wet with the beginnings of tears, and it made Blair feel sick to think that she had broken him. But he had broken her too, so many times. They had broken each other, time and time again, to the point where they couldn't be complete alone.

Blair spoke slowly and carefully, choosing her words to edge around the sick look on his face, the one that showed desperation that had never before graced his features. "The true reason why I should stay right where I am, and not get in the car." She swallowed. "Three words. Eight letters. Say it, and I'm yours."

A tear was about to fall from the corner of Chuck's eye, and he didn't even bother to brush it away, just looked at her disbelievingly. Blair didn't understand. She didn't understand how hard it was for him to love anyone. She didn't understand that the only other person he'd ever loved had left him. She didn't understand that the last time he'd said those words was the night his mother died. She didn't understand that no matter how much he felt when he was with her, how much he wanted to kiss her sweet pink lips, how much he knew he loved her too; he just couldn't say it.

"I…I…" Chuck choked, stumbling up on the second word, barely able to form the first letter with his mouth.

Blair's hopes fell as she saw him struggling. He had never really loved her, had he? She wrenched her arms from his tight grip and smiled fakely. "Thank you. That's all I needed to hear."

She turned away from him, swallowing and trying to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over. Within seconds, Marcus pulled up in his red convertible, and a polite smile spread across Blair's face as she pulled open the door and slid across the dark leather interior.

Chuck was left struggling with his emotions and his words, and he didn't even try to stop her as she drove away into the setting sun, draped around that with that guy that reminded him all too much of Nate.

Blair was left struggling with her emotions and her tears, and she didn't even try to stop them from falling as she and Marcus drove away into the setting sun. She chalked her wet eyes and trembling body up to too much alcohol and the heat that enveloped their bodies, and Marcus put an arm around her, holding her close. But he smelled like heavy cologne, and the careful way he touched her reminded her all too much of Nate.

If this were a movie, the next day Chuck would confront her again; he would slide an arm around her waist and take her hand and whisper into her hair that he loved her, he always had. They would kiss and make love and fall asleep on her silk duvet, tangled in the sheets and each other.

They both wished that life was scripted.

Author's Note: Chuck doesn't actually cry in this scene, although both of them do get sort of teary. I just wanted to make it a little more dramatic. I worked really hard on this. I've been kind of down on my writing lately, so this was my way to show myself (and other people) that I can still sort of write decently. Anyway, pleasey please review. Your guys's feedback means the world to me, and I'd love to hear what you think.