Note: Keeping with the current story line, a little one-shot idea that popped into my head, and grew into a bigger idea. Still a one-shot though! Let me know what you think! :)
"Chuck?" Blair's small voice drifted into the darkness as she gently pushed on the door, willing it not to be too loud.
"Chuck, are you in here?" She sounded so tiny, so far away, that he didn't realized she was actually there. He was sure he was still dreaming.
"Hrmmph," was his muffled reply, but that was all Blair really needed. She carefully entered the room, shut the door softly, and moved quickly toward the bed. Upon reaching her destination, she hesitated only for a moment, and then slipped in next him.
"Waldorf...what...are you doing?" Chuck mumbled into his pillow.
Blair just sighed contentedly, snuggling into the blankets and closer to Chuck. "Shhh," she whispered, "Go back to sleep."
Chuck shifted to allow Blair better access, and she happily curled into him.
If it hadn't been 4 in the morning, and if Chuck hadn't been certain that this was all a dream (a very good, though less dirty than usual, dream), he would have demanded an explanation, or made some witty/offensive comment, or at least been thoroughly confused. But as Chuck wrapped his arms around the beautiful girl who just climbed into his bed, the only thought that registered was how right it felt to have her in his arms again, and a smile graced his lips as he fell back into full slumber.
-
He woke up with a start. There was a warm body next to his, and for the first time in a long time it was exactly the body he needed it to be. He stared down at the brown curls in quiet confusion, instinctively tightening his grip around her tiny frame, terrified of what would happen when she woke up.
He didn't know why she was here. Last he knew, she was back with Nathanial, and he was fucking stupid Brooklyn girls because they were both just that desperate. He could not think of one logical reason for her to be in his bed right now.
She was probably drunk, he reasoned to himself. That's the only logical situation that would lead her here. But, Chuck realized with a smirk, that had to mean something. Her coming here, even in an inebriated state, meant that it wasn't over. It couldn't be over. He had wished with all his heart (the heart she had discovered for him, the one he tried to banish again and again, which only came back beating stronger and more urgently) that it wasn't over, and now there was hope.
Chuck closed his eyes as he inhaled the faded scent in her hair, and relaxed once again into a light slumber, nuzzling her neck has he dozed off.
-
He felt her shift next to him, and his eyes immediately flew open. She was staring at the ceiling, apparently lost in thought, and she didn't notice his gaze fixed upon her. She hadn't fled yet, and Chuck took this as a good sign.
Blair sighed, and finally glanced over at him. His eyes widened in anticipation, but she didn't seem surprised to see him awake, she just returned her gaze to the ceiling.
Chuck studied her for a while. The way her chocolate curls cascaded in the morning light. The way her chest reflected each steady breath, in a quiet sort of rhythm. The way her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as she stared fixedly upwards. The way the corners of her lips pulled upwards, just a little, and he could tell she was content. He wanted so badly say something, anything, but he was petrified that he might ruin it, and she might leave.
And so they remained, for how long, Chuck didn't know. It amazed him, though, how no tension built between them. How, regardless of everything that had happened, they could just stay there without speaking, so comfortably. He wondered wistfully if this was what he could have had. If this was what he skipped out on, by wanted to 'wait'. Until they were 'ready'. He was ready for this. He could handle this. He needed this. And once again her cursed himself for being so stupid.
Blair sighed once more, her eyes suddenly cloudy as she spoke. "I guess you're wondering why I'm here," she whispered solemnly, her eyes never leaving the ceiling.
Chuck nodded softly, still too scared to speak.
"I don't really know why," Blair continued, because she felt his nod, more than saw it. "I think I wanted closure."
Chuck was dreading what came next. It was a mistake. It was all a mistake. He knew that was what she thought, what she'd always thought. And just as quickly as he had begun to hope again, it all came crashing down around him.
Chuck winced, and looked away from her for the first time all morning. Her eyes immediately shot to him with alarm, as though somehow she missed the intensity of his gaze, but he stared resolutely at the ceiling, attempting to find the fascination it had held for her.
She followed his gaze, and they both remained, staring heavenwards, fighting through feelings and emotions they had each desperately tried to bury.
"Did you get it?" He asked finally, curiosity eventually defeating denial, and he looked over at her once again.
She fidgeted with her fingers as she shook her head slowly. "If I did, I wouldn't still be here."
Something fluttered in his stomach as her gaze met his, and he chanced a small smirk, because really, it was all he could think to do.
He knew she was fighting the urge to smile back at him, but the smile never made it to her lips. She always had impressive control over her facial expressions. He should know. They both wore masks to cover their emotions. They were both well practiced in such self-control.
"Blair," he said, but it was more of an exhaled breath, and he continued looking at her, silently asking her what she was thinking.
She shook her head again, and smiled wistfully. "I had this…idea, that I could just make you go away, if I proved to myself I didn't need you."
Chuck gulped. "And how'd that work out for you?" He could have said it with sarcasm, he could have implied that she could never prove that to herself because she did need him. He could have been smug. He could have been Chuck Bass, and everything that entailed. But it was a real, honest, desperate question. He was Chuck Bass, the little boy terrified of losing the most important person in his life.
"I don't know," came her meek response. "But I wound up here, so it couldn't have gone that well." Blair smiled a little now, genuinely, as their eyes locked again.
"Are you going to stay?" He asked gently.
Blair looked around, and back at Chuck. "I shouldn't."
"That's not what I asked." They were still speaking in hushed tones, but he was challenging her now.
"Well, it's how I answered," she replied, defiantly. And he'd be damned if there wasn't a playful smirk subtly teasing her lips.
Taking this as a good sign, Chuck reached up to brush a stray curl from her face, but Blair recoiled instantly at his touch. Inwardly, he cursed himself, and outwardly, he sighed, reaching out and grabbing one of her hands, not allowing her to shrug it away.
"I want you stay." Blair shook her head, and he could see her eyes clouding over with tears. He wondered briefly how the mood could shift so quickly, and then he realized she was started to move.
Chuck tugged on her hand, pulling back, closer. "I need you to stay." He realized this may just be the closest to needy his voice has ever been.
"I can't," Blair mumbled, averting her eyes, staring at her hand, which Chuck was still clutching.
"Why not?" Chuck couldn't hide the frustration in his voice as he eyed her intently. He couldn't lose her. He refused to lose her.
"You know why not," she rolled her eyes, more as a response to his frustration than to his question, although even he acknowledged that the question could warrant an eye roll as well, perhaps in a different situation.
Chuck's eyes narrowed, and even though he regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he had already resigned himself to saying them: "If this is about Nathanial…"
Blair shot up, out of the bed, yanking her hand from his clutches as she flew. She was irate. "Nate?! You think this is about Nate??!" She screeched, staring down at him incredulously.
"What am I supposed to think?" Chuck shot back, also jumping to his feet, but more so he could more easily prevent her from escaping than out of actual anger. "You're with him now, aren't you?" He accused, already knowing the answer.
"Please, that is the last thing on my list of reasons not to be with you," Blair's voice raised half an octave as she eyed Chuck with disgust.
"I don't hear you denying it!" Chuck half-shouted, somewhat triumphantly (although he wasn't sure what about that could possibly be considered a triumph for him), and then added casually: "And you would have a list."
Blair laughed mockingly. "Oh no. Well, I tried to make a list, but I gave up around the fourth or fifth page…so many flaws, so little time."
He fidgeted, and she waited for him to bark out a response. Blair eyed him carefully as he turned away from her sharply, running a hand through his hair. He whipped around again, determination in his eyes.
"You came here, Blair. What do you want from me?" Chuck stepped towards her, and just like that, every ounce of Blair's anger dissipated as she leaned back against the wall behind her.
She looked away. "I don't know." It was barely audible, but Chuck heard it.
"Do you still love me?" It was too blunt, Chuck knew, but it was an urgent plea. And he had to know.
Blair's eyes tightened shut, and she made no movements, as if she could just wish the question away.
Chuck waited with baited breath, and it became incredibly apparent that she wasn't going to answer him.
He sighed dejectedly. "Blair." It came out a hoarse whisper, and this time she did look at him. Her answer was in her eyes. All the pain, and suffering, and confusion…it was all there, staring up at him. Butt was everything. He could see it, he could feel it, and he needed her to say it. He needed it so desperately.
But as he stared into her eyes, he realized something the he had never fully understood. She needed it just as much as he did. She needed the assurance, she needed the affection, she needed to know just as much, and she deserved it more than he ever could.
Somewhere in his self-centered mind, Chuck had believed that because he had never felt it, never said it, never had it said to him, that he deserve to receive it first. That he was so broken that she should have to put herself out there to fix him. He knew that she was broken too, and yet he somehow believed, as the more broken one, he didn't need to be responsible for any fixing.
The craziest part of his failed logic is that she actually did it. She put herself out there, and what did he do? He shot her down. He broke her even further. And then when she could finally take no more, he resented her for it. He resented her for giving up on him. He tried to replace her. And when her whole world fell apart, where was he? When she so desperately needed the help, when she needed saving…he tried, but not like he should have. Not like she did for him. She saved him. She fought for him. She loved him.
His eyes shot up, back to Blair. She was watching him, with what he was sure could have passed for amusement in another circumstance. He looked down. He wasn't missing another chance. He wasn't repeating the same mistake. He wasn't going to be scared. He wasn't letting her go.
"I love you."
There it was. It was late, and it was simple, and he probably could have tried for some sort of romantic buildup, but there it was. There he was. Handing her every play in his book. Handing her his entire heart (which, really, she had all along anyway). Handing her everything she needed to crush him irrevocably. Handing her everything she had ever asked of him…the only thing she had ever really asked of him.
He stared at her, anticipation lining his features. He watched as her eyes widened. He could practically feel her heart stop. Blair just stood there, unmoving, unblinking. Finally, she slumped down, onto the floor, leaning against the wall, and put her face in her hands.
Not the reaction he was looking for. At all. He felt like all the air had been sucked out of him. But if this was what Blair felt like, after she said it, Chuck thought ruefully to himself, then he should be thankful that she was at least still here. She hadn't left completely. He still had a chance.
Chuck knelt down beside her, and slowly lifted her chin from her hands. A few tears stained her cheeks and her eyes glistened with tears unshed. He padded his thumb beneath her eyes, wiping away the stains. She refused to meet his eyes.
"You said it," She finally whispered, somberly.
"I did," He replied earnestly.
Blair nodded, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to feel.
"I meant it," Chuck spoke up again, and Blair's eyes flicked to his. "I mean it," He corrected himself.
Blair shook her head now, willing the tears not to start falling again.
"Blair, I need you to believe me," Chuck whispered, shocked at how close he felt to tears, although he would never admit it to another soul. Because this was breaking his heart.
"I do," Blair finally choked out. "I do believe you." She was wiping her cheeks, and tried to force a smile, to retain some of that brave face she liked to wear.
"…Then what's wrong?" It came to him in flashes. She no longer loved him. Hearing him say it, it just proved it to her. She got her closure. He knew it was over. He knew.
"I –" Blair began, hesitating.
"I know!" He interrupted her sharply, abruptly rising from the floor and fleeing to the other side of the room, as far away from her as he could be. He faced the opposite wall. He wouldn't look at her. "I know," he said again, more softly this time. Because as much as he hated her for what she was doing to him, he understood, and he knew he was to blame anyway. "I understand. You don't have to explain anything. You don't owe me anything. Please. Just go."
He heard her gasp. He wouldn't turn around. He couldn't.
But she wasn't leaving. He wasn't sure if she had moved yet. He wouldn't check. She would go soon enough. And she would thank him, one day, for allowing her to escape, to leave him and his twisted games behind. To start anew, with her fucking Prince Charming. Chuck briefly considered this to be one of the most unselfish things he'd ever done.
"You selfish bastard."
And clearly, he was mistaken.
He turned around slowly, defeat in his eyes though he attempted to rise to the occasion: "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Blair scoffed bitterly as she stalked towards him. "After everything you've put me through, after this entire morning, after you finally say those words…you won't even let me contemplate everything?! You just send me on my merry little way? You think I can get over everything just happened in the 45 seconds you gave me to think?" She had that incredulous face on again.
Chuck eyed her warily, and then looked down. "It was more than 45 seconds…" he mumbled sheepishly.
"Yes, Chuck, that's the part you should focus on." Blair tapped her foot impatiently. Finally, Chuck looked up at her, and inhaled sharply when he realized her expression had softened immensely.
Blair stepped forward, placing a hand delicately on his arm. "You said it, Chuck," Her eyes were filling with tears again, and Chuck wasn't sure if he was deluding himself when he momentarily thought they were a different kind of tears. "I didn't think you were ever going to. I didn't know if it was ever true."
"It was always true," Chuck assured her, not even realizing they were slowly melding into each other.
Blair nodded. "You have to know, Chuck. I'm yours. I love you."
A grin broke across Chuck's face, and before he could even contemplate anything else, his lips found hers. It was so natural. Slow and delicate at first, then growing with passion and intensity. Heat. Fire. Desire. Those hidden qualities that had first drawn him to Blair. But now there was something greater, something all consuming, and they both felt it.
He pulled away first, still grinning, and the grin widened when he realized Blair's matched his own. They stood there, staring at each other, for what seemed like the millionth time that morning, and Chuck realized he could stare at her every day, for the rest of his life. He would, too. He decided then and there that he would someday marry Blair Waldorf. He had to. He couldn't stand to be without her. He couldn't stand the thought of someone else…Shit.
"Nathanial," Chuck stated slowly, his grin fading with each syllable.
"No," Blair smiled teasingly, pointing at herself, "Blair. You're really gonna have to start getting right…"
"Blair," Chuck groaned in frustration, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.
Blair rolled her eyes. "We broke up last night."
Chuck's eyes shot open.
Blair stopped him before he could jump to conclusions. "I broke up with him. It wasn't fair. To any of us, really. Any of us caught up in this…sick love-square-thing."
Chuck smirked at that. "So when you showed up…"
"Yeah, it was a little bit like last time," Blair finished, reading his mind. "I needed an escape." Blair smiled dreamily, memories of past and present playing across her face.
"Well, did you think that this would –"
"No," she cut him off, still smiling. "I didn't. I didn't really think at all. It was like four in the morning, you know."
Chuck was smiling too. "You sure? No manipulation? Because you sure seemed to be sitting there thinking a long time…don't tell me this wasn't all part of some elaborate scheme." He was closing the gap between them as he spoke.
"Please," she smirked playfully, "I am so past all that immature drama."
He raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "I highly doubt that," he whispered against her lips, and he didn't even give her a chance to respond.