Don't Take Your Love From Me
She doesn't know it started, only that she wished it would end.
It wasn't when he began running Bass Industries without Lily, though you thought it would have. No, it was after that; when perhaps ruling over, and expanding, his father's empire became intoxicating.
Steadily, it declined. He was too busy for phone calls and text messages, then e-mails. Dinner plans turned to ash. Entire nights spent at the office. When he did sleep in their bed, she had been asleep for hours already despite her efforts. He slept with his back to her; sleep being the only objective of coming to bed. No words, no fleeting touches, no holding her in his arms. Sex, the rare times it happened, was merely to alleviate him of the biological requirements of being a man. How she didn't cry, she knew not, perhaps even needing her that little bit made everything okay for a few moments?
Somehow, he still attended the important social function with her. No matter the heavenly creations she wore, she was fortunate if she held his attention for a couple dances before the phone rang and he disappeared into the night; leaving her to carry on to hold up the mask of socialite by herself. On those nights, she could never return to their room at the Empire. She would return to her penthouse where Dorota helped her out of the complicated couture. Little Ana would sometimes hid in the shadows to watch the beautiful fairytale princess ascend the staircase bathed in moonlight; her awestruck eyes unseeing the smeared make-up from the tears that escaped Blair's defenses on the limo ride home. After the first few instances of these visits, Dorota learned to keep her mouth shut and to try and keep the look of sadness and pity off her face.
Oh! How Blair's heart ached. What happened to them? What was she to do? She felt powerless; he tore down her every attempt to be with him by neglecting her. She couldn't go on like this!
One evening, at last, he was home before the early hours of the morning, before she had retired to bed to surrender another lost day to sleep. Even still, she was always trying. Every attention to detail in the care of her person and dress she maintained, as though it would somehow suddenly fix everything. The midnight blue chemise she wore tonight was a surprise gift from Paris with the love of her father and Roman.
He pulled off his shoes, then stood to shrug off his suit coat. Her beauty was lost to his distraction and overall exhaustion. She took the opportunity to slip in front of him and undo his necktie. A small smile on her full red lips, she looked up at him with sweetness in her large, round, brown eyes. "Let's go away together. It has been too long, and I miss you." she utters, baring more of her soul than she initially intended.
"Blair, I can't." he grumbles. She steps back and away from him, "I have all these meetings, people flying in from Tokyo and Dubai, there's the deal I'm working with…" his Blackberry rings and his answers it, holding up his hand to her, indicating she wait.
"Wait!" she thinks, feeling the sting of a thousand invisible nettles. He had already forgotten her as he walked into the other room, the sound of his voice as he talked on the phone becoming a buzzing sound in her ears. She had snapped.
Grabbing the nearest coat, shoes, and clutch, she whirled out of the Empire without registering even a blip on Chuck's radar. She had learned from the master how to run, and she was going to run as hard as she ever had in her entire life.
Paris - comforted by couture, her favorite works of art, and macaroons.
The French Countryside, with her father and Roman – family, cheese, wine, and quiet.
Monte Carlo – The nightlife, daytime spent stretched out on beautiful yacht's soaking up the sun and champagne.
Rome – History, architecture, and reveling in her favorite scenes from Roman Holiday.
She knew she was never alone. Chuck is a Bass, how many years has he had a PI tailing her? But she knew it wasn't out of care but control and left her feeling cold.
Back in New York, Chuck was coming undone. It took him an alarming amount of time to realize she had actually gone. It wasn't until the maid changed the sheets and the smell of Blair no longer engulfed him when he laid down to rest. He rose from the bed thoroughly startled, raking a hand through his mussed hair, and peered at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked away, disgusted, and settled on the photo from the wedding of his father and Lily Van der Woodsen. Seeing Bart Bass staring at him, smiling- an unnatural and disturbing look on his father, when it hit him, his insides turned to lead, and it was all he could do not to heave on the spot.
He had become his father.
Unable to sleep, he looked through all the messages and cancelled plans from the past few months. His stomach twisted with guilt, hot shame engulfed his whole body. Looking over the recent PI reports since she had left, his mind reeled straining to fathom what it would take to fix this. His legs carried him to the safe; his hands deftly entered the code and pulled the door open. How long had it been since he tucked it away, waiting for what he had always assumed to inevitable? "Fuck," he cursed.
It took a few days to get things in order. After all, he was no longer a teenage billionaire, running off when it struck his fancy. But he could also refuse to be his father, and step away to live life.
Tuscany. Why had she thought to come to Tuscany? She was doing so well not thinking about BlairandChuckChuckandBlair, but how could she not think about him in Tuscany? He stood her up once, years ago, but he made up for it, making Tuscany their haven away from New York. Haven. That is why she came, to feel safe.
The green and gold rolling hills were soothing and soon they were turning off the main road towards the villa. A twinge of loneliness passed through her at the thought of being all alone. Perhaps she would make some calls when she arrived, a welcome friend or two to visit and help chase the ghost of Chuck away.
Walking into the villa was difficult. The memories were overwhelming; they laid in every corner, on every surface. She needed air. A few quick steps and she was on the back balcony, an expansive view of the Tuscan countryside before her, she exhaled- only to have the air choke in her throat.
He had been looking out on the countryside, resting against the balustrade. He turned to her, hazel eyes twinkling as they drank in the sight of her sun kissed skin and the gentle wind ruffling her soft day dress.
Two steps of his long legs and he was before her, then suddenly down on his knees, kissing her hand and looking up at her, all the hope in the world in his eyes.
"Chuck-"
"I'm sorry, Blair, please. Never again, I swear to you. Forgive me? Please say you forgive me," he pleaded.
"I…" her lower lip trembled, "How am I suppose to forgive in an instant months of being discarded and neglected? How can I trust you now?" her eyes began tearing.
"Because I can prove it to you." He raised his left hand, uncurling his fingers to reveal the palm of his hand. The sweetest little flower lay in his hand, it petals open to the sun above, and it sparkled in her eyes. In the center of the flower laid the most exquisite ring, a ring to rival all others, that was as unique in beauty as the woman he had it made for, with all the love in his heart, and best hopes for their future.
Tuscany would never be the same.
Nor were Blair and Chuck.
For from that day forward, they forever held the warmth and light of the Tuscan sun in their hearts.