"You put the orchards with the hydrangeas?" Blair struggled not to shout at her idiot wedding planner. Her smirk was somewhere between condescending and dangerous. After a deep breath and a relaxation exercise (courtesy of her therapist) she gave quick instructions and clapped her hands till the incompetent man all but ran from the penthouse. She could have done everything (and done it better) by herself—would have, if not for her mother's constant needling.
She checked the time again and fought with herself not to check her reflection again. Chuck should have been here by now. If he was in 1812 getting Serena drunk...The elevator doors gave a warning ting and Blair steeled herself. Serena emerged from the elevator, and no amount of steeling herself could have stopped the sharp intake of breath Blair took after seeing her best friend. Serena wore a short mustard coloured dress with a drop waist and a brown bomber jacket. Her hair was shinier, her skin darker, her sapphire eyes even seemed brighter. It was vile and unjust, but completely unsurprising that age had only made Serena more stunning.
Serena's eyes watched her skittishly, as if uncertain of her welcome. But she strode confidently towards her anyway. Blair's lips curved into a small smile, her arms opened without thought when her friend neared. Blair didn't even rock back on her heels when the taller girl bounded into her arms; she was prepared for Serena's exuberant affection. But there was no preparing for the flood of bittersweet emotions. Tenderness made her clutch at Serena's neck and bury her face in coconut smelling curls, pain made her eyes close tight and her breathing shallow. She should hate this woman in front of her. She had tried with every bone in her body to despise Manhattan's Golden Goddess, but it was hopeless. After about the tenth drunken late night call, filled with tears and I-love-yous Blair couldn't even keep her anger anymore.
Blair pulled away first, but Serena grabbed at her hands. "Oh, your hair!" Serena exclaimed, running a dark lock through her fingers. Blair raised an eyebrow waiting for the blonde's opinion on her straight, almost chiselled looking pageboy. "It's gorgeous! So chic and mature."
Blaire rolled her eyes, but smiled. Of course Serena would say that. Serena had always said stuff like that. Blair's outfit choices were either beautiful or enticing. Her face radiant. Her body delicious. And it hadn't mattered if to the magazines she was Serena's nameless companion, because Serena had always looked at her as if she was everything. "I'm glad you could make it, S," Blair said, smoothing her friend's mussed hair back.
"Oh, as am I. But where is that piece of scum that tends to follow you around?" Chuck asked dryly, eyes narrowed in a mix of mirth and contempt. Blair looked at her fiancé, surprised for a moment. She hadn't noticed that he was beside Serena.
Serena made an exasperated sound before planting her hands on her hips and turning to glare at Chuck. "Honestly, Chuck! It was a poker game six years ago, when are you going to get over that?"
"Seven years, actually. And it was a little more than just a poker game," he replied darkly looking towards Blair, who just quirked her lips in acknowledgement.
"Oh god, not this again!" Serena groaned. "Can you imagine if Blair hated every woman you'd slept with? The city's brothels would be a blood bath! Just let it go!"
"I'll let it go when he stops fucking with your head!"
Blair watched on silently, amused by the years-old argument. Sure, Carter was an ass. She knew he was nowhere near good enough for Serena. He was an alcoholic, sexaholic, with a gambling problem only rivalled by the size of his ego. But he took care of Serena (as much as she would let him), loved her (when he thought she wasn't looking). And if he did neither as well as Blair, well, who could?
Chuck fought with Serena as if she was the sister he called her. Blair knew Chuck had been hurt when Serena left, even though he hid it well. And he'd never even known why. One day they'd been the four corners of their own private world, the next...Just broken fragments. Blair hadn't seen it coming, but when it did she was hardly surprised. Brutally disappointed, but not surprised.
They'd only had a few weeks together. A few weeks of covert kisses, of shy caresses and Blair had just begun to believe again in that bigger-than-the-ocean love those black and white films had promised. She remembered lying sweaty and exhausted, pillowed on Serena's hair, in Nathaniel's bed for some reason. Their hands the only thing touching. All her dreams and plans evaporated, and it was painless. She hadn't even missed them. They'd been replaced by a future that looked so fucking bright that no fantasy could compare.
Prince Charmings looked dull beside the sun.
But the next morning she'd awoken and the sun hadn't risen. She'd gone back to Chuck and she'd taken back her perfect plans. And the perfection of it all had tasted like bitter ashes on her tongue.
"Your dress is ready with the measurements you gave me, but we still have the last fitting today so any alterations can be made," Blair broke into their pointless argument, simultaneously brushing off the cobwebs of the past.
Serena turned to her, heat evaporating from her gaze as if it had never existed. Serena nodded, biting her lip. Blair ignored the pain in her friend's eyes. "Then you can look at my dress, look over the guest list, cake, and seating arrangement." Blair continued listing items but trailed off when Serena's eyes couldn't get any wider and her expression couldn't look any more desolate.
"Welcome to my hell, sis," Chuck cut in, noticing the tension. Serena flashed him a weak smile.
Sighing Blair took the blonde's arm, comforting the girl who had left her broken and alone.
"Blair, I—"
"Shh, S. Not now." Blair could see Chuck looking on curiously. She had never told him the truth and she never wanted to. He wouldn't leave her. They were stronger than that. But just because he wouldn't leave didn't mean everything would be fine again. Knowing all this she still couldn't fool herself into believing he wouldn't find out. After all, he was Chuck Bass.
She took a deep breath and tried to do her visualisations. God, that therapist was so fucking fired.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Serena struggled with the card key to 1812. She had meant to go back home (the one with her mother and Eric) but Chuck had been downing shots like they were going out of style and in trying to keep up she had become a little more tipsy than Lily would approve of. Blair had left early, but Nate had held his own. While she and Nate stumbled out of the bar in peals of giddy laughter, Chuck followed looking like he'd just stepped out of a shareholders' meeting. Chuck's alcohol tolerance was seriously uncanny. He'd given her permission to use his precious suite only with the promise that she'd finally be crawling naked between his sheets.
The door opened while she was still glaring at the little light, waiting for it to turn green. She took an unsteady step away from the door, her eyes trying to focus on the figure.
"Carter?" she asked in a sing-song voice.
"Hey, darlin'." He reached out and pulled her into the room gently. He was wearing a pair of bright purple boxers and nothing else. He enveloped her body in his, rubbing her arms and trying to warm her up.
"Neither of us has a good winter wardrobe anymore," he chuckled, close to her ear.
"Speaking of wardrobes," she slid a finger into his pants and snapped the waist of his boxers, "are you wearing Chuck's clothes?" she teased.
"And drinking his best scotch, and stealing the batteries to all his remotes," he added proudly.
"You two are pathetic," she giggled. "Waaaait!" She leaned back so that she could look up at him properly. He casually wrapped an arm behind her back before she overbalanced. "You're not supposed to be here!" She accused in a voice too high and dreamy to contain any real heat. She looked around the room trying to clear her head. "How'd you even get in here?"
"Blair told me you'd probably head here and gave me the spare key."
Serena gave an exaggerated gasp before breaking into laughter. "Someone's going to be in the dog house when Chuck finds out," she chirped. And then she laughed again, trying to visualise her friend inside an actual dog house.
Carter smiled indulgently pushing back blonde curls that hung in odd places in front of her face. "I could tell that this wedding and coming back had you unsettled. I figured you could use the moral support." He shrugged. "Fuck Bass."
Serena's blue orbs gave a slow blink. She wasn't sure he was meant to be here. His puzzle piece didn't fit into this picture. But neither did hers anymore. Blair wouldn't look her in the eyes, and had positively run from her as soon as they were alone. It had left her feeling dejected and her heart a little achy. She knew she deserved worse treatment, but it didn't stop the hurt. Leaving had broken her, but she'd never expected coming back would do the same.
"Well, I'm glad you're here," she told him honestly, starting to get undressed.
"I bet Waldorf's already given you your marching orders," he said, helping when her dress straps got caught in her hair. "What's Satan's bride got on the itinerary?"
"Well, I've got to pick out hairstyles for each of the bride's maids that make them look good, but not too good."
He watched as she finished getting undressed, dropping her clothes in a pile where she stood. "I'm probably not going to be a lot of help with that," he said blandly, barely concentrating on her words.
"Nonsense," she ruffled his dark hair till it was a fluffy mess, "you have excellent taste in hairstyle. But first on the list is a shower," she said sniffing her hair and wrinkling her nose.
"Ah! Well that I can help with," he said wriggling his eyebrows for a comically sleazy look. He quickly pulled Serena up till she could wrap her legs around his hips and rest her arms around his shoulders.
"But you're already clean," she pointed out, nipping his shoulder to prove her point.
Carter walked them towards the en suite. "Well you'll just have to get me dirty, princess."
For the night she let Carter wash all the complicated stuff down the drain. She sunk into the easiness Carter always seemed to offer, glad that some pieces would always fit.