The Final Form of Love
Aimee
PART 1 – Paris Street
"tell me how can I tell you that I love you more than life."
From Marc Terenzi's Love to be loved by you
That's it. The moment he crossed that road and was shouted at by a crazy driver who warned him to be careful, he knew that's it.
All the walls he had desperately built shattered. All the illusion he forced himself to believe turned to be wrong. Spinning is the only word he could thought of except her name buried so deep in his heart on purpose for the last two months.
She was in the car, as beautiful as every other time in her whole life that he had known, which made him, in a moment, hoped, or prayed the earth under his feet could crack and swallow him in, because he was wearing a ridiculous shirt which seemed so white but not even a little purple on him, and his pants were too cheap to be called pants.
Then he remembered. He was not chuck bass anymore. He should not care the color of his shirt or the price of his pants. He should not care anything that chuck bass always cared, including her.
He knew she was staring at him, trying to find something that could explain his surprising change from head to toe. The warmth on his cheeks and the pierced feeling on his back were proof. He knew he should keep going with that stupid cane, pretending like his world didn't turn unside down in the moment. However, his heart was screaming, encouraging him to walk up there, tell her what happened to him to gain a little sympathy he didn't deserve, and beg for her forgiveness again and again and again until she give it to him.
"hey, boy, you plan to keep blocking my way or what?" the driver obviously thought he didn't understand his previous French sentence and translated it into English in an impatient voice.
He murmured an apology, and dragged himself away. Without looking back, he kept going fast to nowhere, ignoring the pain in both his leg and his heart. For some unspeakable reason, he secretly wished she could call him.
She never did.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
"tired?" a soft voice came into his ear as soon as he stepped into the café where he was working, followed by an arm helping him walk more steadily. "you're out for quite a long time. Get lost?" eva asked.
"something like that." He murmured. He actually got lost, not in the streets, but in his own mind. After the glance of blair through the car window, he wandered on the street aimlessly for nearly an hour until he noticed the time. He was expected to be out for only an hour, now an hour turned into two. If he was not the boyfriend of the café boss' daughter, he would really be fired.
Boyfriend. Once upon a time, this word scared shits out of him. But now when he was introduced to someone as eva's boyfriend, he felt nothing. No excitement, no resentment, just nothing. He had been numb since she left him alone in the hospital where they went to see dorota together and walked out arm in arm after his never happened proposal. Even when he was lying in the dark alley in Prague with a bullet in his body, he felt numb more than pain. Maybe he would feel numb for the rest of his life, but it didn't matter. There's nothing left in him to matter anymore.
"sorry to have you worried." He said to eva, and got a smile on her face as her reply. "don't worry sweetie, I can handle it. Wait for me on sofa. You need some rest."
She always called him sweetie, an endearment he had never heard before. Blair always called him chuck, sometimes bass, but never sweetie, honey, or something like that. And he guess he would never hear her call him anything in the future for she had made herself very clear by a "do not say her name or anything to me ever again".
No. He shouldn't do this, shouldn't think of her, fancy her, cherish her like she is the only woman in the world. She didn't want him, and never would. He had no right to bother her again after what he had already put her through.
But he just couldn't help it.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
He didn't know why. But during the months, including the coma he suffered after the gun shot, he often thought of his father. He wondered if bart felt the same when going towards death as he himself was lying abandoned in Plague. He wondered what his father would say or do when he saw the new man who was still his son but not the infamous chuck bass again. He thought he, to some degree, finally understood his father's decision to marry lily. Evelyn was and would always be his father's one and only, as blair to him. But with lily, bart lived in an easy way and found a different kind of happiness as he did with eva.
He had already had so many chances with blair, but he blowed all of them up. He had no right to ask for another one. And even if he did, she would never take back a man who had hurt her countless times.
So that's it. He would live in this numb way until something mercifully took his life away to end the misery, which the bullet in Prague really should had done.
PART 2 – Train Station
"When it's all said and done, you'll be the only one."
From Tonya Mitchell's Stay
This is the place he never thought he would step in during his whole life. No, exactly, this is the place chuck bass never thought he himself would step in. but here he is. In the train station. With a travel bag on his shoulder.
And as if to make things worse, he sweared he heard his step-sister's annoying voice. No. it was annoying to chuck bass. But it was terrifying to him now. Because if that blonde was here, then the brunette friend of hers must be, too. And even though he knew as a so-called "reformed" man he should not think of her any more, he couldn't help but wondering if she saw the kiss he had shared with eva just moments ago. He was not cheating on her. "cheat" was an amazing word because it was only used when two people were in relationship. He was not cheating on her. But the shame of kissing someone not her and the fear of her possible reaction still began to cloud his mind.
"chuck!" someone patted him on shoulder, "I know you're lame, but are you deaf, too?" serena breathed from running with a hand on her chest, "blair wants to talk to you. She's here."
He turned around. Yes, she was here, in a red dress with a sparkling diamond necklace around her delicate neck. For a moment, he wondered if it was the Ericson Beamon necklace, but then realized that's impossible. He probably would not see that necklace on her ever again. Damn it. He didn't even know if she had already thrown it away.
Magnetically he walked towards her, trying his best not to stumble. He wanted to be presentable and pathetic at the same time. Presentable enough for her to see him as a bearable catch, pathetic enough to call for her sympathy and forgiveness. He was in quite a dilemma.
"chuck."
The single word made him tremble. The illusion that he could live without her shattered into pieces. With a sweating hand he held the cane tightly until his knuckles turned white to make sure he himself stand steadily. His throat closed.
"blair." When he finally found his voice, all he could choke out was her name.
She blinked, searching for the right word to say. "serena said you'd been…in trouble. I just want to make sure…check on…ur…are you ok?"
Did she really need to ask? Of course he's not ok. How could he be ok? He would never be ok because time couldn't flow back and he had no way to undo the things he had already done.
"I'm fine." He lied. He knew she could see through his lie in no time, but he still lied. He couldn't tell her the truth that he had been "in trouble" because he fought for her ring not caring if he lived or died, that he felt nothing except numb without her in the last two months, that seeing her so gorgeous and splendid but not having the right to stand by her side made him want to go back to that dark alley and bleed to death. He couldn't tell her any of them. So what choice did he have except lying?
"I see." She took a glimpse of the direction of eva, the curve of her cherry lip showing a small sad smile.
"girlfriend." She nodded, then averted her eyes to the bag on his shoulder, "seems our history at least serves well as a good lesson for you to learn how to be a proper boyfriend. Congratulations. It's better for something rather than nothing."
He felt as if been shot again, this time at heart. No. Worse. There was a knife cutting his heart into pieces, leaving him bleeding to no end. Did she really mean it? Did she really think so little of him? Of them? How can't she know their history is not any lesson, but a memory he cherished above everything, a memory so precious that he not even dare to touch, a memory which is the only thing made him feel a little alive rather than numb?
Then he knew. From the little jealousy in her voice to the glistening water in her eyes, from the way she bited her bottom lip to the little tremble of her hands, he knew. Hope surged from the bottom of his stomach where the butterflies were fluttering.
"blair." He asked hesitantly, "are you…are you ok?"
Immediately, all her vulnerability vanished, leaving determination only in her facial expression. "Of course I'm ok." She said, "Don't take me wrong. I don't mean to be angry or jealous." As if being mad at herself for losing control, and eager to persuade them both, she continued, "whatever between us has already ended. Surely you have the right to move on."
He wanted to scream, to cry, to ask, plead, beg her. Please be angry. Please be jealous. Please tell me I have no right to move on. Please tell me you'll keep me.
Then, the next two words were kicks right to his stomach with her perfect high-heels.
"Me, too."
Water welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision, making him unable to see the unshed tear in her beautiful eyes. Her voice was sweet song and unforgivable curse to his ear at the same time.
"Don't…" he whispered. Don't say it aloud. The misery was already too real to ignore. Despite the pride left in himself, he said urgently, "you know she's not you, don't you?"
The truth didn't put into sentence is "you know she'll never replace you, don't you?"
She nodded understandingly. "But that changes nothing." She said, "I need time and space, so do you." She took a deep breath, then smiled at him, "I'll see you in New York, chuck."
She walked away. In his vague vision, he saw serena appeared from nowhere, caught up with her and walked with her arm in arm. He stood there, watching, wishing to burn her figure into his memory for good.
A warm hand slid into his slightly trembling one.
"Who is she?" eva asked, "she seems like someone who should take private jet rather than train. I bet her dress is beyond 2000 francs. And god, charles, you may not notice the necklace she wears. It's Harry Winston! How did you know her?"
He didn't correct her. He noticed the harry Winston necklace, because he always noticed everything about her. He couldn't help but thinking the necklace actually matches to the ring that he had bought but not even had the chance to show her.
"it's a long story." was his simple answer.
"she looks like a princess." eva said admiringly.
"she is the queen of Manhattan." Chuck replied.
"you still haven't told me her name."
He kept silent for a good two seconds.
"Blair Waldorf." He finally said.
The love of my life. The one and only forever.
FIN
AN. Hope you enjoy.