Chapter 1
Every time we lie awake
After every hit we take
Every feeling that I get
But I haven't missed you yet
"Say it," Chuck growled, gripping her elbow tightly. His lips trailed softly up and down her neck. She pulled away abruptly, straightening her exotic purple print dress, made exclusively for her by Elizabeth and James. She would give up a hot make out session for this dress.
"No," She whispered in fury. "You dumb shit, you messed up my dress!" Blair started to walk away from him, only to be yanked back.
"I'll buy you another one," he was mesmerized by her Prussian blue eyes, the way they swiveled with every movement he made.
Blair wasn't in the mood anymore, she was actually pretty hungry, and thinking about the brunch buffet waiting for her out in the dining hall didn't leave room for stolen kisses behind heavy curtains in deserted halls. "Chuck, stop. I need champagne and scones…with raspberry coulis…" She licked her lips, and Chuck coughed heavily into the crook of his arm. God, he was turned on.
"Yeah, well, I wasn't in the mood anyway." Chuck sauntered away before he could desert her. That was the way he lived. He didn't make his father promise to make an appearance at his polo game, for Chuck knew he couldn't make it. He didn't ask for an invitation from Claire Duquette, although he desperately wanted to go glow-in-the-dark golfing. He left before the girl could leave him.
Huh. Some way of life. Can you say depressing?
She smiled lazily at him the slivers of moonlight illuminating her face. They were tangled up in the Egyptian cotton sheets of Chuck's kind sized bed. Chuck smirked back. He even made her meow. That was something. Unlike the too sharp angles of other girls' bony elbows and the way their hair got in the way, Blair was doe eyed and innocent, which only made him be more aggressive. He couldn't help himself. She was delicate, and even the slightest accidental jab on the hip would bloom into a bruise the next time. He propped himself up with his elbow, his hair mussed.
Blair tried to contain her giggles. Seeing his hair awry was unusual and funny. "Chuck," Her voice trailed off. Her eyes suddenly lost that relaxed touch, and turned dark and serious again. "I have to go." She threw back the covers, to be greeted by the cold. Her skin seemed clammy.
Chuck watched her slip on her pearl Manolo Blaniks and her dress. It made him dizzy, the patterns. He watched her clop out of his suite, and out the door. That hit him. Hard. She never stayed to just lie awake together. She always had to up and leave before everything felt too…loving, he could say. The limited feelings that he already had were surfacing to the top.
Anger, embarrassment, shame.
Anger, because he didn't tell her to leave first. Embarrassment, because she didn't want him. Shame, because, well, after all those years of people not wanting to be around you, what else could you feel. Oh, yeah, and wasted. He needed to get wasted immediately, and stoned, if possible. He too got up, and dressed his best to head over to Victrola. He needed to escape. If he got excited, he wouldn't miss her.
Yet.
N/A~ The lyrics are from the song "I Hate Everything About You".