A DEAD MOMENT IN TIME
No more.
Was it even possible to feel deadened inside? Blair felt her heart pounding dully, thu-thump, thu-thump, betraying the aching pain left behind by her own words and the hollowness she'd glimpsed in the eyes of the one person she'd vowed to support through thick and thin. Still it beat, even as she stood so still she thought she might turn to stone –unliving. Stood so still, all the muscles in her body clenched in a vain attempt to keep herself from crumbling, to keep the tears at bay.
Failure.
Control eluded her. Couldn't stop them. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't… couldn't even move, swipe the tears away, walk, try to forget. No, Chuck was imprinted in her memory: imploring eyes, bleak face, wasted inside. A trainwreck waiting to continue on its course, and even though she could hope, pray for him… there was nothing she could do to help him this time.
Tired, so tired.
He was on his own now. Blair Waldorf had done the impossible in his darkest moment yet, and the saving had taken a piece of her she was pretty sure she'd never fully recover. Like broken glass, smooth surface no more.
Unconsciously Blair moved for the first time in minutes. Her lips were parched. The slight moistening brought her other senses to alert. Tears beneath her eyes, stiff muscles, shaking knees, scarce air. Nothing compared to the dull thu-thump of her heart that felt like lead in her chest, but she saw to it, remembered where she was and what she was doing, because she was Blair Waldorf, and Blair Waldorf did not lose her composure. So she moved again: dried her eyes, walked off aimlessly, and breathed deep.
A few instants later she landed softly on her bed, lay down, and gazed blankly at her ceiling.
It was possible to feel so dead you couldn't even feel yourself anymore.