Okay, hi, everyone. I'm failing science, and I guess I thought I might feel better if I wrote some Chuck and Blair. Anyways, this was totally inspired by "Marry Me", the Tropfest short film winner. The link is on my profile, and it's absolutely adorable.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these lovely characters.

Summary: Someone unexpected comes back on Blair's wedding day and brings back unwanted memories that she finds impossible to just push aside.

Enjoy! (:

So, quit your crying
And wipe the tears from your eyes.
'Cause this is "see you later,"
I'm not into goodbyes.
Watch the brake lights
as I leave your drive-way,
The warm nights, will stay beside me,
No matter where I go!

Think of you later in my empty room,
Where I, I will fall asleep alone.
Think of you later in my empty room,
Where I, I will fall asleep alone.

Think of You Later
-Every Avenue

Wedding Day. Blair Waldorf's eyelashes flutter profusely, adjusting to the harsh, bright sunlight streaming in from her bedroom window. Her stomach clenches uncomfortably from her lack of food intake for the past week, but she waves the discomfort away along with the other wave of emotions that she doesn't need. Because today, June 16th, 2016, marks the ending of a reign. It's the ending of Blair Waldorf, and the beginning of Blair Waldorf-Archibald, and she's ecstatic.

Grabbing her white gown, she scampers down the stairs with the tail of the dress flying behind her. She giggles excitedly when she sees the makeup entourage and her bridesmaids all clustered in her living room.

"Serena! Iz! Penelope!" She envelopes them in a graceful hug and plants a kiss on each of their cheeks.

"Blair! You're getting married!" Serena screams gleefully. That's who Serena is. She doesn't care that her own marriage lasted five months. She doesn't care that she can't hold a man for more than a week. When it's Blair's time to shine, Serena forgets all of her own troubles and focuses her effervescent happiness solely on the bride.

"I am, aren't I?" Blair says in a awe-filled voice. She's dreamed of this day her whole life, and can't imagine it any other way.

The girls pop the champagne bottle open, but Blair doesn't drink any. Besides, drinks wouldn't do well on an empty stomach, and the last thing she needs is to vomit all over the groom. Suddenly, she's getting that feeling again. She knows it well, from her bulimic years. It's that odd surge in her stomach and dizziness in her brain, usually ending in fainting. She has to get out of here.

"Girls, I'm going to run out and get some more wine, we'll start getting ready as soon as I get back."

As she walks out of the stately building, a cold gust of air hits her. The sudden blast of wind almost knocks her over, but she catches herself on the door. Steadying herself, she's suddenly aware of someone standing in front of her.

"In all the years I've known you, I never pegged you as clumsy, that's for sure," the man says.

She looks up, and there standing before her is a broad-shouldered man. If it hadn't been for the thick eyebrows, the half-hearted smirk, and the deep growl for a voice, Blair would have never recognized the full grown man now standing before her.

"Chuck?" She is too bewildered to answer with their usually witty banter. This isn't Chuck Bass. Chuck Bass was pale, distressed, and confused. At least, that was the way she remembered him from seven years ago. He'd left without notice, and rumor had it that he'd been off doing business in Barcelona.

"It hasn't been that long has it? Even if it has, not many people have ever forgotten Chuck Bass," he throws his trademark smirk at her.

"It's just… I mean…" Blair trails off.

"There we go. That's the usual effect I have on people," he says, amused.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Blair asks harshly.

"Whoa, whoa, no need to drop F-bombs. You're a lady. Ladies don't say fuck in public. Of course, from what I remember, you definitely say it in private," he winks suggestively.

She punches him. "Seriously, why are you here." This time it isn't a question, but a statement.

"It's my best friend's wedding day, of course I'm here," Chuck explains.

"You're not my friend. You were never my friend. As hard as I tried, you never wanted to be my friend," she tells him stonily.

"Whatever, B," he winks again as he uses her old nickname, "anyways, I meant Nathaniel."

"Oh."

-x-

They walk silently along the paved roads and Blair takes the chance to really look at Chuck. His hair has grown out some, and his once clean-shaven face now has hints of stubble on it. His pale skin is darker, and there are bags around his eyes indicating he's had little sleep. His black suit seems modest compared to his usual wardrobe of pastels. Of course, he still wears a signature scarf, but it too, is black.

She cut the silence and asks curiously, "Why do you dress so differently?"

"My wife makes me," he shrugs.

Blair's mouth hangs open in stunned silence, Chuck Bass, the Upper East Side's biggest playboy, biggest womanizer, is married?

"Hey, don't be so shocked. She's extremely hot, if that makes you understand the situation better."

"Of course you married for looks."

"And she's Hispanic."

"You speak Spanish?" Now Blair is really dazed. She is sure he's failed every single foreign language class he's ever taken at Constance.

"I mean, I can say basic stuff. I can say sex, bed, I want you, and shut up," he says, smirking again.

"Well, that's disgusting."

"We get along okay, I guess. She stays out of my way, I stay out of hers. We have sex, she's hot, and she's a good image for the company," he reasons.

"Good to know you're happy," Blair says stiffly.

"Eh, not really. But what's happy in the grand scheme of life? After all, it's not like I would have married for love," Chuck grimaces at the word.

"That's because you don't know what love is," Blair says harshly, suddenly recalling painful memories of her teenage years.

"At least you love Nathaniel, right?"

Blair nods uncertainly, something she's never done before when asked the same question.

"Look, I better go. Maybe I'll see you before the wedding?" He looks as if he's considering kissing her, but instead pulls her to him and embraces her in a long, emotion-filled hug.

-x-

Standing in front of the mirror in the chapel's dressing room, she begins contemplating everything Chuck said.

At least you love Nathaniel, right?

She knows it would only be right to say yes. After all, if she marries Nate knowing she doesn't truly love him, then Chuck would be right. Years ago, he told her that they were the same kind of person and she refused to believe him. Here, standing in her bathroom, pondering her decision of marriage minutes before her wedding, she realizes they aren't so different. If she doesn't love Nate, then she's marrying him for the exact same reasons Chuck is married. Digging further, she realizes she can truthfully say she loves Nate. Saying that she is in love with Nate, though, would be a lie.

She's only been in love once. That she is sure of. Of course, in true Waldorf fashion, it was unrequited love, one-way, not returned. Maybe if he'd stayed they could have worked it out and she'd be Blair Waldorf-Bass right now, but he didn't stay, and she is about to marry Nate. Tears threaten to escape from her eyes as she desperately holds them in, flicking her wrist violently at the tears that have already fallen. Suddenly the door swings open with a bang.

"Just wishing the bride some luck. With Nathaniel, you're going to need it," Chuck says, poking his head through the door. Surveying the dressing room, he turns to her and asks, "Where is everyone?"

"Buying more booze," Blair points at the liquor store across the street, refusing to take her eyes off of the mirror.

"Hey, are you crying?" Chuck asks quizzically.

"No."

"If you need anything…"

"I would really, really appreciate if you left. Now," she says, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"Blair…"

"What? Nothing you say will make me feel better considering you're the problem," Blair says, quickly covering her mouth, realizing she's said too much.

Chuck walks over to the vanity bench and sits down. She wants to tell him to go away, leave her alone, but she can't do it. And just like that, his lips are pressed against hers, and he has one hand massaging her neck. She laces her fingers through his thick hair. Their tongues are battling for dominance when Blair pulls away.

"No, I can't do this. I can't do this to you, I can't do this to Nate, and I can't do this to me," she says fiercely.

"Blair…"

"No," she now has one hand massaging her temples, "I'm going to the bathroom, and when I'm back you better be gone."

She stands up and walks towards the door, hitching up her dress's long train.

"Blair, wait," Chuck says, stopping her.

"What? What could you possibly want from me?" Blair's voice holds high levels of exasperation.

"You think this is easy for me, Blair? I have to stand here watching my best friend marry the one girl that I…" like usual, Chuck can't finish the sentence.

"That you what Chuck? What? That's the thing. You'll never say it," Blair turns away again.

"That I ever loved," he says so quietly she thinks she may have imagined it.

"What?"

"I think I might be in love with you," he repeats, looking away. Chuck Bass doesn't do romantic.

Her facial features soften for a millisecond, so quickly that to the naked eye it is as if she's mantained composure the entire time. Almost as quickly as they are there, they are replaced with a cold, hard stare. With anger building up in her chest, she releases fiery words similar to the ones Chuck had once used himself.

"You love me, huh? Well, that's too bad."

What the FUCK? I seriously have a problem, and it's called I'm a hypocrite. I'm always like wow, please write Chuck and Blair together to the writers of Gossip Girl, then I go and write this depressing shit.

WHY AM I FILLED WITH THIS ANGST?

Okay, well, review! Maybe, I'll be happy enough to write them together one of these days.