Title: Stalker
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Rating: PG
A/N: If Blair hadn't interrupted....if only...
He takes her hand in his and she turns. The grip he has on her is firm and once her gaze is locked onto his eyes, she can't tear herself away.
"Stay?" If she didn't know him so well, she;d believe he was actually asking her. But he's not, it's just a formality. He expects her to stay. Any sane, straight girl would. Hell, she knows some lesbians that would jump into bed with him, given the chance. But, thing is, she can't. She couldn't bear to be another notch in his bedpost. (Figuratively of course, because his actual bedpost was probably more expensive than her rent.) She'd be acting just like those girls she hates. She'd be no better than the ones that kneel and worship him at his feet. She knows the disappointment the girls go through, the ones that end up in his bed, or on his couch, or on the floor of his suite. The ones that wait weeks in vain for a smile, or a phone call, acknowledgement. She can't do that. Won't hurt, or allow herself to be hurt so deeply. Those girls....those girls don't even like him. They like the money, and the facade. Still, they're miserable. She knows him, or thinks she's beginging to understand at least. Understand his strengths, his falws, his guilty pleasures. She understands him only a little, and still she'd be heartbroken. She can't stay. And it all comes down to fear. She's afraid of being used. Most of all, she doesn't want to know he abandoned her. Easier to imagine they could be something.
"I can't Chuck." She stutters, pulling her hand from his. She turns and walks away from him. He catches her arm, the formality gone, his eyes sparkling with desprate mischief she knows well.
"Then I'll go with you." He states, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. So she lets him. She lets him, because she figures walking away is so much easier than shaking off a stalker.