All he wanted was the truth.

"Three words, eight syllables. Say it, and I'm yours." She groaned internally, hating the way he threw her own words back at her. He had a way of doing that. Had a way of knowing exactly how to make her angry, annoyed, sad, forgiving, happy, and loving. He could make her blood boil with anger, then have her kissing him with a fervor within a span of ten minutes. Stalling for time, she shot back,

"But I'm already yours, and you're ruining the mood with all this talk." Her voice was full of pleading, and she knew that it shone through her eyes as well. She hoped fervently that Chuck would just let the matter drop because she knew she couldn't say what he wanted her to, just as he hadn't been able to say the same words to her.

"You can't say it," he whispered. She desperately wished to avert her gaze, but his eyes held her captive. "You wanted them from me," he reminded her, longing and disappointment coloring his tone. She thought she even may have heard a touch of bitter sadness in his voice. She wished desperately that she could force those measly three words from her mouth, if only to diminish the pain burning in his eyes. When she found herself unable, though, she decided to blame it on the game they played. The dim lighting that the candles strategically placed around the room provided was too much as far as she was concerned as she fought to dispel the image of Chuck's agony from her mind before it could ingrain itself forever into her memory.

"I'm prepared to settle," she argued quickly, attempting to sidestep his request. She should have known it would never work. When Chuck Bass wanted something, it was futile to try and change his mind. She sat up, reaching towards his warm body with her own, feeling drawn to him like a magnet. Her body ached for his embrace, and the distance he was placing between them was almost painful. With a downcast face he pulled away slightly, and she lowered herself to the bed slowly, letting the pain she felt show on her face as little as possible. Somehow, she found the will to pry apart her lips and say,

"Chuck Bass, I—." In his eyes sparked a hope that was easily visible. Heart lightened by his new facial expression, she found herself digging deep for the will to finish what she had started. Though the words he wished so desperately to leave her lips were true, she found herself unable to form them except in her mind. "will never say those words to you." She internally winced at how sharp and uncaring the words her unconscious had dredged up were, but found herself unable to take them back even as the hope in the eyes of the man above her died, and with it her heart. The stony, agonized expression returned to his face, and she cursed herself to Hell and back for not being strong enough to end their silly little game.

"Then you will never have me," he whispered, leaning close. He was so quiet that she could barely hear him. His body heat remained above her, lingering a moment longer before he stood up and began to put his jacket back on.

"Is this because of Vanessa?" she asked, the false anger in her voice covering up the pain that was welling like blood from a gash. "It was a game, Chuck. That's it," she added hastily, desperately trying to keep him there. Her question was only an excuse for him to stay even a few seconds longer, because deep down she knew that none of this was about Vanessa. Everything was about them, and she had just ruined it.

"Maybe I wanna raise the stakes," he said quietly, situating his jacket while he spoke. Hope flared within her brightly before she could suppress it. He's still playing the game, she thought gleefully. Our game. Even the slight joy over this small miracle was overshadowed by the anger directed at herself, and the pain from his rejection.

"You ready to play that game?" he asked, the look glinting in his eyes sinking her heart through the floor. "I chased you for long enough," he demanded, a new fiery determination blazing in his gaze, "now it's time you chased me."

Her eyes followed his dark form as he exited the room, taking the good feeling that came with being in the vicinity of him with him. Her mind, however, lingered on their encounter. All I had to tell him was that I loved him, she thought bitterly. She averted her focus to the open door that he had left through only moments before, studying the image of him that her mind chose to conjure as the first tears began to fall.

All he wanted was the truth.