I definetely had no intention of updating so quickly. But this idea popped into my head and refused to dislodge itself so here's anotherchapter. Don't let the dark propmt discourage you, it's sad but it ends the same way.

Prompt 2

Funerals

It's still early when she knocks on his door. The sun is only just beginning to dip below the New York City skyline. He'd tried not to hope she'd show up. It had been nearly a month and they'd yet to run into each other. She had made no effort to get in touch.

No, it'd be mortifying to admit to even a glimmer a hope. To reveal that the idea of her being in the same city as him after all this time was enough to increase his heart rate. That for twenty three days he's eaten dinner at home. He could come up with a plausible excuse if questioned, but he'd always know the truth, be aware of the weakness.

Eleanor's been in the hospital for weeks. Some sort of heart thing (he knows every detail really). It had been serious enough to bring Blair home on a red eye flight in her husband's corporate jet.

She's a picture. Flawless to the end. She's grown her hair out, dark chocolate curls cascading past her shoulder blades. She's in a dress, deep purple, with black patterned tights, and dark gray heels. Only the best for mommy dearest.

She almost fools him. But there are circles under her eyes, surreptitiously dulling her makeup and her hands flutter awkwardly at her waist as if she has to physically force herself to stop them from balling into fists.

"Why didn't you come?"

A burst of indignation hits his him like a fist, but it's quickly smothered by an intense feeling of weariness. He loves her. Even now, when she expects so much for so little. Displaying the nasty habit she has of always believing he will give her more then he possesses. She is perfect. The only one.

But he can't say it. Has never had that ability. So instead he sighs and drawls smugly, "I didn't think you're husband would have appreciated my presence."

It's a low blow. He knows James hasn't come. Blair's been in the city for three weeks, at times under the assumption he mother wouldn't last the night, and her husband has remained in LA. A city he knows for a fact she hates. Had only moved there because she was a newlywed, a young bride who wanted to pretend she hadn't made a mistake.

He sees their similarities in the way she processes his insult. A flash of anger and then, for the briefest fraction of a second, his own emotions reflected in her eyes. The same sadness, twin voids of exhaustion and longing.

Without asking she glides around him, walking into his room like she still belongs there. She takes in the half eaten dinner, the glass of scotch, and the papers spread wide across his desk. Slowly she turns, taking her time rememorizing a place she used to be able to navigate with her eyes closed. He faces her, studying the almost unnoticeable changes in her expression as she registers the differences in his home since she's been gone. Almost three years.

He'd seen her barely six months ago, at Serena's engagement, but she'd been with her husband then. He had been too drunk to be able to tell if she was happy. His vision too blurry to assess if her smile reached her eyes. She had left the next day. Even though she was the maid of honor. Even though Serena cried. Even though he knew, even if he hadn't really seen her, that she wanted to stay.

"Why are you here Blair?"

She doesn't say anything for a long time, staring as if recalling a memory. And then, completely on impulse, she whirls and starts heading for the bar, "I wanted to get drunk." Slipping out of her heels she navigates behind the counter, purposefully grabbing a bottle of vodka by the neck, "You're still good at that, right Bass?"

Liar. Closing the door and locking it with an audible and meaningful snap he crosses the room in seven strides. "Two choices," he states, his voice low as he pulls the bottle from her grip, "tell me the truth or find you're alcohol elsewhere."

Her eyes glint in the dim light as she studies him. Noting his rooms in The Empire aren't the only things that have changed. He's just as tired of running in circles. She takes a deep breath and holds his gaze evenly as she replies, "I'm here because you sent flowers everyday, because a specialist from Boston appeared at the hospital before I'd requested him, and because when Nate called me twice a day for updates I knew it was really you who was asking."

Her gaze challenges him to tell her different. Hide behind the lies they learned at birth. Defiance was always one of her strengths. But there's hope now too. She wants the right answer. The truth only he can provide.

But he won't admit it for the same reason he didn't go to the hospital: to reveal so much when she has admitted nothing is akin to being the only one naked in a crowded room. Too susceptible, too vulnerable to even contemplate. So he asks her again, begging her to give him the right answer this time.

"You're not one for thank yous. Try again. Why are you here?"

The last part is a little louder then necessary. But he is the only one who flinches. She disregards his anger, forgiving his words before they have even finished leaving his mouth.

Her eyes flutter closed, and her knuckles turn white as she grips the bar top, "You're going to get a call soon," she whispers, "from Nate or Serena or Cyrus." Her eyes open, tears glittering like the most flawless of jewels, and he knows what's going to happen next. She can't say it or maybe can't admit it. Instead she manages, "Barely fifteen minutes ago. The doctor said it was almost immediate. That there was no pain."

He remember this scene. A memory replayed over and over, a reminder of their mutual weakness. Only he was the one holding back tears and she was the single thing keeping him from any further fraying at the seams. He wants to say that there is always pain. But it would come out wrong. So instead he steals a page from her playbook.

He approaches her slowly, but when her legs wobble, he's there to wrap his arms around her. Tightly, a plea and promise, like he's never going to let go. Her tears soak his shirt as he leads her to the couch. And it seems to be an eternity until she cries herself to sleep in his grasp. A whole lifetime stretched out across a single night.


It would have been poetic if he'd woken up with a note on his lap, his head lulled against the arm of the couch and his arms wrapped around nothing. Karmic justice for past sins. But they're older now, and maybe not as similar as he'd originally assumed. Blair is still sleeping when his cell phone alarm buzzes.

He's able to reach backward and turn it off without waking her. Her back is pressed into the couch. She's curved around him, arms around his neck, head bowed against his forehead, leg draped around his waist. Her breathing is steady and it hits his jaw bone in slow, warm spurts. He wants to keep her this way, frozen in this moment. Warm and present, no thoughts of dead mothers or estranged husbands. Before she wakes up and remembers her broken heart, or even worse, wakes up and remembers to walk out the door.

It's five in the morning, he has seventeen missed calls and Blair Waldorf curled against him. Lilly, Serena, Nate, Cyrus, and Harold are concerned. Wondering where she is. There's work to be done and meetings booked months ago with potential investors.

Chuck Bass closes his eyes and falls back asleep.


She does leave. There are people that need her and plans and arrangements that have to be made for her mother. But the next night she's back, eyes still tired and hands still rigid.

This time she doesn't ask a question, only folds herself against him and catches his lips with her own. They are older now. But they are still Chuck and Blair. And he remembers her with his eyes closed. They get distracted on their way to his bed. First on the couch. Then in the hall. And then on the large plush rug in front of his walk in closet. By the time they hit the mattress she is falling asleep on top of him.

In the morning he presses a key into her hand.

She doesn't like to lose, he knows it's the reason she didn't leave her husband months ago. She hates failure. Suffering is justifiable when it allows her to avoid admitting defeat in such a public way. So he does his best to give her something to gain.

The day before Eleanor Rose is buried Blair Waldorf files a petition for divorce. And then arranges to have her possessions shipped to The Empire. He dutifully has all of his clothing condensed into one side of the closet. When she sees it empty her smile is worth the effort.

Her husband shows up for the funeral. He doesn't make a scene, doesn't say a word when he sees her gripping the hand of another man. He stays for the service but is gone when Blair's mother is lowered into the ground. They don't talk about it. There's nothing to say. That part of her past has nothing to do with their future.

"I love you," she whispers it to him on the ride home. Head lulled on his shoulder, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

They are older now. He is older now. And there are things much worse then being vulnerable. It is much better to say too much then to suffocate in the middle of the night under the weight of all the words you've never spoken. An empty heart isn't worth guarding.

"Stay with me," he replies into her hair, his voice as light as air, "Live with me. Marry me. Grow old with me."

She doesn't blink for a full minute, reacting to his revelation with wide eyes and a open mouth. But you can only stay in limbo for so long, and her smile is wide when she challenges, "What are your conditions?"

He sighs, running a hand through her hair as he contemplates his terms, "That we have a million kids, tons of sex, and that the death do us part of the vows only applies to me. You're not allowed anywhere near a pine box while I still have a breath in my body."

They are eternity. A personal forever and always. And she's willing to promise him immortality if it means spending every single second of her life and death with him.

She pauses, pretending to weigh his offer and then answers. A promise and a plea.

"Deal."

Special thanks to MrChuck, TriGemini, QueenBee10, Italiapen112, and Emma for reviewing. Love it.