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We pick ourselves undone
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Blair Cornelia Waldorf certainly knew those who'd grown up in the Upper East Side often came with a laundry list of issues. Hell even Humphrey had been relatively normal until he got pulled into their world. She, herself, was no exception to this rule—not that Blair would ever admit to it—and control was the issue to stalk her footsteps.
It came from being raised with Eleanor Waldorf Rose; the woman who dictated Blair on what to do, what to wear and what to eat. And, somehow while doing everything asked of her, plus trying to add just that little bit more, it still wouldn't be good enough!
Though it wasn't till Blair fell hard and deep for Chuck Bass that she learned how horrid some of the scars could be. Never before had she known someone to be so love-starved, and how powerful abandonment issues could be. Under that I-don't-care-I'm-Chuck-Bass mask, lied a lost little boy who craved to be loved and wanted pure affection.
Those hypnotizing dark chocolate eyes, with that tiny hopeful, begging for attention look, it pulled her in every time—like a drug to an addict. When their little whirlwind began, Blair knew, she knew Chuck would be dangerous for her life. He sparked something in her that had never been felt before; only longed for. Somehow this dark boy made her feel like when he looked at her, that Blair was all he could see. Chuck's focus never wavered to others—Serena included—when he was doing whatever to gain her sole attention.
This boy whom Blair had always ignored except to call a pervert or con his help for the newest scheme, had quite quickly, become very important to her. More than Serena, her mother, and her father; personally she figured Chuck sat up there next to her Dorota. He held court next to the only person in her life that never truly betrayed her.