Theft of a Heart Chapter 2: Eye of the Storm
A/N: Chapter 2 up! I have this written in my subconscious for like three weeks, so it was easier to write. : D
I actually think of Gone With the Wind rather than Wuthering Heights when I write Chuck and Blair, but yes, definitely a resemblance. Glad y'all have seen Atonement and Wuthering Heights. So you weren't all wondering ("Who the HECK is this stupid Cecilia person? Why does she hug her knees? Why does she repeat sentences/Is it supposed to be poetic?")
I do ship Nate/Vanessa, but I am going to rip them apart based on spoilers for 'Blair Waldorf's Day Off' buwahahahah.
Disclaimer: Blah blah don't own anything but my writing. 'The Scientist' is not at all fun listening, but it is very B/C.
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"Oh tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles
Chasing our tails
Coming back as we are
Nobody said it was easy
Oh, it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard"
-Coldplay, The Scientis
His life was a series of unfulfilled disappointments, of breaking promises and fraying the already sensitive strings of relationships, and putting a brave front to the world and shrugging it off. It was the way they all lived on the Upper East Side, cut connections, one-person dinners, piercing each other with words. Never showing hurt inside.
Never again.
He wasn't going to live his life like that. He wasn't going to drown his sorrows in pot, liquor and women. He was going to get the company back--and then he was going to ask Blair's hand in marriage. He cared. He cared that much.
His eyes strayed back to the focal point they had been determinedly straying away from for quite some time. Blair was still asleep, of course, one long white arm reaching above her head, her tumbled curls spread out on the pillow, her porcelain cheeks and plush mouth screwed up in unhappiness. She was muttering something.
He exhaled slowly and looked at the alarm clock. It was--midnight. He passed a hand over his tired face.
She looked at him with sick pain, and the vividness that was always present in her eyes dimmed, and she swayed and fell to the floor. Out of sight.
Red burning from his eyes, he commanded the girls to get out, and they got out. He stooped and carried Blair inwards.
He looked at her for a long, long time, not a little uncomfortable with the idea that all of his hopes and fears and future happiness was tied up in one person. Not a little joyful, as well.
The dress made her look beautiful, but she knew how to wear rags. Chuck felt a feeling of longing more powerful than lust sweep over him, and he was content to stare at her while it killed him.
"Jack," she mumbled. "No. I don't want you anymore." She pushed against Chuck's side with weak strength.
"NO!" she screamed, and it jerked her to reality. Her eyes, very black in the moonlight, roamed around until they settled on Chuck's and regained purpose. She fell back onto the pillows.
Her mouth opened and closed, in evident pain, regret, feeling as if her body had committed treachery on her. "Chuck," she croaked.
"Yes?" he said hoarsely. "Do you need anything?" His eyes were unnaturally bright. "Do you--"
"I need you," she mumbled, pressing his palm to her cheek, drifting off. "Stay with me."
"I wouldn't leave you for anything." He brushed his lips against hers, gently, once, and sat back up.
She slept again, but her face was clear, the worry lines smoothed out. Again, the contour lines not resurfacing themselves. The way she should sleep. Her small palms still pressed against his, and it left him speechless.
"I love you," he told the darkness, and it did not reply.
O0...0O
When he woke up, she was gone.
O0...0O
"Nate--" She came closer. "We can fix this."
"You and Carter--I--" Nate bit his lip. "We can't. You'd best go now."
O0...0O
Nate opened the door.
There stood Blair, her brown hair in large, artificially neat curls, the top of her head straightened and pulled back into a bun. She was dressed immaculately as usual, in her polka-dotted A-line skirt, and solid red blouse. It emphasized the slimness of her calves, and her small feet were in Ferragamo heels. Yet for all this putting-together she looked to be falling apart.
"Come in," he smiled, geaturing to the parlor, where Blair seated herself tentatively. The last time she had been here was their breakup. That fateful breakup, that gray day, when he'd pinned Chuck to the edge of the limo and demanded to know what he already knew in his heart.
Her watchful brown eye darted around the much-reduced room, sans half its usual vases and hangings. "Nate--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."
"It's alright."
"Where's Brooklyn?"
"We broke up."
"I'm very sorry," she said falsely, like something out of Atonement.
"No, you're not."
"No, I'm not."
What brings you….here? "What brigns you here?"
"Business."
"What?"
Blair's eyes filled with tears. "What has Chuck told you?"
"About what?"
"Me. Our situation."
"I don't know….I haven't talked with him recently. I think he….it's obvious you're the most important thing in his life."
"What--then why hasn't he chased me?"
"Still vain, huh?"
"Passing over that, Archibald--has he moved on to other women?"
"No. Not as far as I know. He sleeps with, like, five girls a night, but he wouldn't care if they disappeared in a vat of freezing acid--"
"You can't freeze acid, Arhibald."
"Anyway. You get my point?" Nate said gently.
Blair sniffed. At first he thought she was scorning him; then he realized she was crying. He had never been good with Blair crying. "I came to him last night."
"And….?"
"Well, and nothing. He was with a bunch of girls--"
"Did you expect him not to be with a bunch of girls?"
"No, but. I. Thought. He. Cared."
"He does care! Look up 'meaningless booze and sex' and you get Chuck Bass. He cares about you, Blair. You're the best thing that ever happened to him."
"He--he doesn't care anymore," Blair lied, to herself and Nate.
"What?"
"He doesn't care."
"No--that can't be true. I refuse to believe it." Nate knelt and took her hands in his gently, and the sight of his big, handsome features evoked a kind of memory of security in her. The soft lighting changed his hair from sandy to gold, and surrounded him like a halo. His wide, warm, friendly blue eyes met hers with the desire to convince her that this was not true.
Suddenly, she wanted him, wanted the warm, gallant comfort he afforded people, wanted the brilliance of his smile and the balance he always gave her. His utter Prince Charmingness. His Gryffindor-ness. The proud, friendly lion of the Upper East Side.
"It's true." Blair forced herself to stop crying, knowing that if she cried harder Nate would know she was lying. "I--Nate, the real reason I came here was for you. I knew, already, things were wrong with you and Vanessa, and I thought--maybe I--"
She stopped abruptly as a thought brushed against her frame of conscience. Chuck would have spotted that I was lying, Chuck would have seen that little flicker in my eyes that meant I was lying.
But she did not need Nate to be analytical.
"Blair, I won't deny that I have been missing you." he gave her a warm smile. "But I still don't think we should rush into anything. How about I take you out to dinner tonight at Sherry's? Let's take this slowly." He gave her a Kleenex from the recesses of his clean pocket.
Blair blew her nose. "Thank you, so much, Nate."
"I don't want to come between you and Chuck," he reiterated, as Blair stood up. He stood up as well--he was so tall, and unlike with Chuck, the height did not intimidate, but rather, welcomed--and saw her to the door. "Tonight at eight. I'll pick you up?"
"Sounds….perfect." She reached out instinctively and hugged him, and although awkward at first, he hugged her back.
O0...0O
I lost her.
But I love her.
So I'm going to win her over.
I know I will.
O0...0O
When Blair gets home, she finds a message on her bed.
Dear Blair--
I'm supremely unworthy. All I want, all I need is one conversation. Eight. Tonight.
O0...0O
So???? What'cha guys think!!!! -bounces-up-and-down-like-a-four-year-old-on-a-sugar-rush- please review? Any ideas?