Chapter Two: Hopeless Romantic

"Hopeless romantic": [HOH-plès//roh-MAN-tik] (n.)-one who cannot resist the temptation of showing affection.

A light flurry of snow brushed against the full length window of the Palace Hotel. It was February—Valentine's day, to be exact—and the deep snowfall was not expected, but very much appreciated by many of whom were supposed to attend school that morning. Taking full advantage of the day off from school, Chuck prepared for a night in. A long night in with Blair.

But it wasn't about the sex this time around. He thought of Blair with his heart, not his loins. Well--more so of the former. He wanted things to be different between them, much different.

Happy V Day, B. Heading out?, Chuck texted.

In this storm? Funny. To see you? Even funnier., Was the reply from Blair.

No. Though, I figured Barney's would be worth the trouble., he joked.

S texted. V Day sucking is looking less likely. Xoxo.

Are cellular hugs and kisses all I get?

The reply for this took ten minutes. When it finally arrived—most likely after much thought and speculation—the outcome was this: Yes.

Chuck laughed. Before heading out of the hotel, he thanked Serena for luring Blair from her apartment so that he could surprise her.

"Anytime," she smiled, not looking up from her phone.

Checking with Dorota, Chuck made sure he wouldn't run into Blair on his way over. "No," she said, "Miss Blair left ten minutes ago. She should be at Miss Serena's."

Satisfied, the young Bass made his way to an expensive flower shop to get a few things. He admired the too-perfect roses. Picking up a single flower, he went to the check out counter.

"Will this be all?" the cashier asked.

Twirling the thornless rouge flower, Chuck replied. "I will need more of these. A lot more."


"Dorota!" Blair shouted as she entered her house, a few minutes past seven o'clock.

At the sound of the shrill voice, Dorota's heart began to flutter. Trying to keep her cool, she calmly walked over to Blair's side. "Yes, Miss Blair?"

"Where's mother?" she asked. Brushing off flakes of snow, she looked around, expecting her mother and Cyrus welcoming her home.

Dorota gulped. A slow droplet of perspiration fell down Dorota's forehead, but she caught it before Blair could notice that she was up to something. "Your mother and Mr. Cyrus took last minute getaway to Paris."

Blair considered pestering her more about the whereabouts of her parents, but she decided against it. Instead, the brunette shook off her coat, handed it to Dorota, and headed upstairs. "And for dinner?"

"Takeout!" she called after the young woman. "I'll be back!"

Dorota grabbed her keys and entered the elevator, just as Chuck had kindly asked her to do.

As Blair walked to her bedroom, she wondered why Dorota didn't just call to order takeout, instead of getting it herself in the freezing cold. Shrugging, she put a hand on her doorknob, only to stop herself. She heard music coming from the other side of the door. Confused, and a little frightened, Blair cautiously opened it.

She was a bit taken aback at what she saw, smelled, heard. Just about every surface of her room was lightly sprinkled with petals, soft and red. On her bed was a few dozen bunched roses, laying next to a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Blair chuckled at the sight of a copy of her favorite movie, Breakfast at Tiffany's, also on her bed. She wasn't positive if the sweet scent that she smelled came from the roses, or a few candles, but nevertheless it was comforting. From her stereo, Blair could hear a lovely piano sonata, most likely Debussy. Closing her eyes, the brunette smiled.

"Do you like it?" Blair quickly opened her eyes and snapped straight up at the sound of Chuck's voice. She hadn't even noticed him amongst the décor.

Closing the door behind her, she walked further into her room. Blair crossed her arms, looking around at the room as a whole. "You did all of this?"

He nodded.

"What can I say, Chuck?" As she paused, Chuck began to grin, thinking she truly appreciated his efforts. "This has to be the corniest thing I've ever seen."

Dropping his smile, Chuck sighed. "Are we really going to do this?"

Not making eye contact with Chuck, Blair made her way to the bed and sat down. "Do what?" she asked innocently.

"Be at each other's throats all the time? Being rude and making snide remarks as if we have a reason to hate one another? I know you, Blair, you're just like me." Blair snorted at this comment, but Chuck continued, "You're like me in the sense that we do not want to come off as relatable, or as vulnerable, because we know that once a tiny fragment of the wall we use to protect ourselves comes off, the whole thing will come tumbling down."

She said nothing. Blair picked up a petal from her bed and rubbed it between her fingers, admiring how smooth it felt. Chuck knelt down in front of her so that he could look at her eyes.

"As for me, I'm tired of playing this three-word game. I hate hurting you because of it, and I hate to see you upset. I haven't the slightest clue why we even started to play it, when we both like each other in the first place. I want you, Blair." She looked up, "All of you. Because," he sighed, "I love you. From the moment since this game started, even before that."

Blair reached up, caressing his face. "Dear, are you sure you're feeling all right?"

Chuck closed his eyes and let out a breath of air. Getting up, he grabbed his coat and started to leave her room. Before opening the door, he turned and said, "Huh. I thought you'd want the same thing. I guess I thought wrongly," and left.

As Chuck made his speech, Blair held back the urge to cry. She wanted to tell him that he was right about her, and that she loved him back. Once Chuck left her rose-adorned room, a flood of tears came from her eyes. She decided to act now, before it was too late.

"Wait!" she said frantically, running down the stairs. "Chuck, please wait!"

He was waiting for the elevator to arrive. When Blair reached Chuck, the elevator doors opened. He asked Blair what she wanted.

"That had to be," she wiped a tear with a single finger, "the nicest thing that you—that anyone has ever done for me."

She grabbed his arm, asking him to wait once again as he attempted to get on the elevator.

Blair paused a few seconds to gather her thoughts before responding. "I feel the same way about you. I just didn't know how else to respond to such a sweet gesture. From you, especially, because we've been fighting for so long, I almost forgot how...genuine you truly are. I almost forgot who I really fell in love with in the first place."

She reached for his hand, smiling as Chuck's response was wrapping his fingers tenderly around hers. He stepped off the elevator, looking deep into her eyes, giving her his patented grin. "Happy Valentine's day, Blair."

Who knew Chuck Bass could be such a romantic? Maybe this trait was hidden in the depths of his soul, albeit it would take a microscope. This Bass man surely has some tricks hidden up his Prada sleeve, good and bad.