Chapter 4:

Chuck wasn't sure if what he was doing was quite right.

On any other occasion, wearing a bright suit and a signature smirk would have felt like an involuntary reaction. But now, he felt out of place. The heat radiated off the sidewalk from the summer day. Children laughed and played near an old-fashioned ice cream parlor on the other side of the road.

But it was not only the setting that troubled his mind. It was the actions he was taking. He had stood Blair up for Tuscany and now he was just going to waltz up to her with flowers and his signature swagger and everything would be OK? Yeah right. Chuck rolled his eyes and he imagined the physical pain he was going to endure if he ever thought this would work.

Hell, he thought bitterly. It's worth a shot.

Still, Chuck couldn't bring himself to regret coming back for Blair. Even if it didn't work, it was still the first time he had gotten out of bed, shaved, and showered in the entire summer. Even if his 'suicide mission', as Serena had called it, failed, he would still be presentable to the world. But if he actually did fail…well then, how long exactly would he be presentable?

Chuck was waiting for the Hampton Jitney to arrive. This was so odd for him. He never waited for anything. He didn't know what he was even doing here. Chuck wasn't a romantic, as Blair had thought he was. Chuck was someone who got what he wanted, when he wanted, no questions asked. But now that he had gotten what he wanted, he had walked away from it. Chuck couldn't stop hitting himself in the head for that stunt. Chuck was acting completely out of character. He had watched so many Audrey Hepburn movies in the last week that his eyes hurt. Truthfully, he had been gathering tips on how to woo a woman. How to be just what she wanted. The roses in his hand were more of a peace offering than a romantic gesture. He was hoping Blair would see them before she saw him and not be too mad…

Who was he kidding? This was going to fail. This was Blair Waldorf he was talking about. She was the queen of reasons to be mad. If there was something wrong, it was Chuck's fault. If he hadn't done anything, it would still be his fault. Whatever they fought about, she always won. He sighed and looked around at the commoners on the sidewalk next to him. This was another thing he never did. Wait with the commoners. If Chuck ever had to wait, which wasn't often, he did it in style. For now, he leaned against the pole next to him and crossed his legs, pulling on a devilish smirk and checking his phone.

In doing so, he missed the arrival of the bus. He quickly stowed his phone away and looked up, only to see a magnificent Blair Waldorf striding off the bus in front of him, completely unaware that he was even there. Her eyes roved the street, looking for danger. Finally, they landed on him. It looked like she had found it. But, instead of hardening, her eyes softened. She smiled and strode towards him, throwing a hug around his broad shoulders. He stiffened with surprise then slowly wound his arms around her waist, hugging her back.

"Hey Chuck," she murmured softly in his ear without pulling away.

"Hey," he said back, surprise evident in his voice. He still didn't let go.

"Nice to see you," Blair whispered.

"Nice to see you, too," Chuck murmured softly as Blair breathed silently against him.

"Seeing me, seeing you," he continued. Awkwardly. Chuck never did awkward. Well, except for now.

He exhaled and held onto her, releasing his tension into the warm night air. He took a chance and leaned over, then kissed her on her shoulder. To his surprise, she didn't pull away. He felt her smile and her skin warmed.

"Do you want to get some ice cream?" Blair asked softly, still not letting go. "We can catch up…" Chuck knew what she meant by that. We can fix things. In true Blair Waldorf style, she would want to try to forget she had ever been hurt, forget that she had been vulnerable for any moment of time. Or she could just want an opportunity to throw dairy products at me, Chuck thought with a smirk. Yes, that's the more likely option.

"Yes," Chuck agreed, letting go and stepping away from her, then began to walk away from her towards the ice cream shop.

Blair stood there for a couple of seconds, then called out to him. "Chuck, wait."

Here we go, Chuck thought as he turned around. Blair trod over to him and wound her hand tightly in his leaning against him. She just kept surprising him. Chuck absorbed her weight and led them to the parlor. He knew what flavor she liked: cotton candy. She had liked it since she was a little kid.

Blair stopped him as he ordered. "One more moose tracks please," she said sweetly to the lady at the counter, who then disappeared and reappeared with their two matching cones. He paid and handed Blair the cone. She licked it then led him over to a seat on the edge of the patio, closest to the sidewalk. She sat, but he remained standing.

"Blair," he said softly.

"Hmm," she said, looking up with quizzical eyes as she licked her ice cream cone.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Acting like I didn't hurt you," Chuck whispered, self-loathing laced in his voice. "Because I know I did. But it's worse when you just pretend it didn't happen."

Blair's eyes darkened just a tad, but remained on the light side. She sighed. "About that," she said softly. "I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" Chuck asked, confused. He was pretty certain that she was kidding. "Is this Blair Waldorf I'm talking to?"

"Yeah," Blair said. "I'm pretty sure it is."

Then she laughed. She laughed the most beautiful laugh and Chuck fell in love with her all over again. The light from the lampposts on the sidewalk made her hair shine and the summer breeze ruffled her hair, sending a smell of cherries and lavender his way. Her white teeth dazzles against the dark night and her face lit up, his own personal light in his world of darkness. Chuck suddenly understood the meaning of love at first sight. With Blair Waldorf, it had never seemed like an instantaneous thing. Someone proceeded with caution with someone like Blair. Jumping head first into anything with her was a death sentence. Blair didn't do danger. She needed comfort, security. Something that someone like Chuck could never give her. But in that one moment of gleaming happiness, he felt worthy, like a light had shined on him from the heavens themselves. Blair was basically his angel on earth.

She smiled at him, a true smile. Not a smirk, not a glare, not a sexy glance. It was a true smile, with light and life all mixed into one set of muscle movements that Blair had just made. He was stunned. He was speechless. Words failed him when this type of beauty presented itself. This was a level he had never known could exist in the mortal world.

"Chuck," she said, concern starting to etch itself into her beautiful features. "Are you okay?" She waved a hand in front of his face.

Chuck had been too preoccupied with Blair's beauty to realize his mouth had fallen open and he had dropped both his ice cream cone and the flowers.

"Yeah," he said as he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just—"

But Blair cut him off by covering her finger in ice cream and sticking it in her mouth. She then smeared some of the ice cream on Chuck's nose and laughed a sparkling laugh.

When Chuck failed to respond, her face fell. "Chuck, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes!" he said quite forcefully. "It's you that I think isn't okay, Blair!"

"Me?" Blair said in surprise.

"Yes," Chuck said, trying to calm down. "You."

"You're acting like I have never hurt you in your life," Chuck said, mystified. "You're acting like nothing's wrong. In fact, you're acting like…"

"I'm acting like what," Blair said playfully, licking her ice cream cone.

"You're acting like…" But Chuck could still see the darkening of her eyes. The chocolate orbs were tantalizing, willing him to say it. Chuck stopped and practiced some self-preservation as he had been doing for most of his life. "Like you just want me to suffer for what I did. Corrode from the inside with the guilt by being nice to me," Chuck said in defeat. It wasn't what he had planned to say. You're acting like you love me. Chuck stood up for himself after his sad show of weakness, "But I'm telling you Blair. I'm not playing into your games anymore. I'm done with games."

"You're done," Blair said, taking this the wrong way. Her chocolate eyes had dimmed in defeat at his apparent lack of confidence in saying what he wanted to say. "Done…as in…done with me?" He heard the hurt in her voice.

Blair had loved and lost many a time. Chuck knew that although she presented herself as a frigid, cold girl who was perfect and in control, she was far from it. Starting at a young age, Blair had become acquainted with the worlds of loneliness and abandonment. First her father left her, then her mother became practically invisible to her. Then came Serena and finally Nate. And now Chuck. Chuck had never intended to leave Blair and if he had known in that second between looking at his phone and throwing the roses away that he would be leaving Blair, just like so many had already done, he would have stopped. He would have thought of the consequences to his actions. He would have met Blair at the airport. He would had texted her back. He would have stayed with her. But he hadn't, and now Chuck was on the list of people would had left the beautiful brunette girl in front of him. He had done it once, and he wasn't going to do it again. Chuck was going to stay with Blair, even if she begged him to leave. Because no one says 'leave' and means it. Blair said 'leave' and she meant 'stay with me for just a while longer'. Blair threw insults, but she meant them to be heartfelt cries. Blair wasn't sure how to tell people to stay because as soon as she committed herself, as soon as she felt safe, she was always abandoned, hurt, humiliated. Blair proceeded with caution. Especially in the realm of this Bass. Blair could never be quite sure when someone would leave. From experience, she knew that it was always erratic, unplanned. People would leave with a plane ticket and a fake smile; a promise to return that always went unacknowledged. People would leave without saying goodbye, without caring, without calling or texting. People would leave with a fight that was no more than a few harsh words spoken on a windy night in front of a limo. People would leave with an 'I don't want you anymore'. Because really, who wanted her? If she had just left for Paris that night, who would have stopped her? Serena, no doubt had tried to save her from becoming herself. But who would have saved her from leaving in the first place? Who really needed her? She had always thought she was everyone's stronghold, that she held everyone together. But it had turned out that she was no one's stronghold, not even herself.

"No Blair," Chuck whispered, leaning close to her. "I'm done with games. I could never be done with you. I just want to stop pretending like this is a competition. I want us to stop hurting each other back. I started this game and I'm finishing it."

"So what are you saying," Blair ventured, a smile creeping back onto her face.

"I'm saying that I want to make this real, Blair," Chuck said with emotion in his voice. "This summer I—"

"Don't," Blair warned as dark memories crowded her vision.

There had been six stages.

The first phase was her denial phase, as she refused to admit he had ever been involved in her life. Three postcards to Dorota. The first, detailing the immaturity of men and how she would never date again. The second, detailing the specific cleaning methods she needed to use in her room and items she needed to get rid of to purify the place of Chuck. Not three hours after she sent that postcard, she sent another one. This one was short but sweet, stating how she had been upset when she sent the previous card and to disregard it.

Next, was the phase of anger. She had thrown things all over her room, breaking glasses, throwing shoes. Blair wasn't exactly sure how much stuff she had thrown around the room, but the morning brought her answer as she stared at the wreck she had made the previous night. Two more nights followed of this destruction, as Blair wished she could get her hands on Chuck or his annoying scarf and tear them both to pieces. She thought of calling him to tell him how much she hated him for what he had done. But she couldn't. Her phone laid broken somewhere in the mess.

She tried to persuade her father into letting her fly back early, but he had refused to let her leave in the state she was in. Blair had pleaded with Roman, with her mom, with Dorota, but no one had been willing to let her leave Paris just yet. They all wanted her to get better and Paris seemed to be the only way that would happen. Her father had always been good at helping her, but now she didn't want his aid. She just wanted to fly back to Manhattan. In fact, she would do practically anything her father told her to do in order to get there. One time, she even told him it was inevitable that this would happen and she wasn't really that upset, since it had been coming for a long time. But a part of her truly blamed herself for not being worthy of Chuck's attention. This caused a downward spiral.

Blair had been through about four bottles of scotch in one night. This was the stage of depression. Three nights with scotch in her hotel room. She never knew how Chuck got that to go down so easily as she choked on the amber liquid. With a new phone, thirty-seven texts and seven voicemails later, it seemed as though Blair had gotten every thought she had wanted to convey to Chuck off of her drunken mind. He had never called back, but Cat had been there to hold and she had lived off of scotch and bread for the next week until her body stopped her from destructing herself.

Bulimia it wasn't, but he body was reacting to the horrendous intake of alcohol she had consumed in the last two weeks. She liked to think of this phase as the 'decontamination' phase. If she threw up enough of this scotch, maybe she could also get rid of the man who drank it. It hadn't proved successful, as Blair had thrown up multiple times but hadn't been able to erase Chuck from her mind.

Finally, came the stage of acceptance. It still hadn't come, but it had started to creep into her body as she had walked into the small shop in Paris to retrieve the small black box. Her acceptance and possible forgiveness was all going to be measured by how Chuck took this development. She wondered how far she could push him before he broke. Chuck and feelings didn't go very well, but Blair was hoping she could gain the key to his trust, and possibly the reasons in his mind for leaving her. And now, for coming back.

All these thoughts and more flashed through Blair's mind, one after the other in a slideshow of her summer. Her protests were weak and Chuck ignored her.

"This summer, I learned what it was like to lose something. Something that I needed more than the world. I've only ever lost something like this once before in my life and I barely remember it," Chuck whispered. "I don't want to lose you again, Blair."

Blair's eyes clouded over. Her lips trembled and the tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"You never lost me before, Chuck," Blair whispered.

Chuck hadn't meant to say 'again'. Chuck felt the tug of his almost non-existent heartstrings as he thought of the only other woman he had ever lost. Evelyn.

"Blair?" Chuck whispered. She put her head in her hands and her back heaved with sobs. Chuck went to stand up, but before he could, she had bent down and picked up her bag. She rifled through it, looking for something. She kept it hidden in her bag, but looked up at Chuck with eyes filled with tears. She smiled and reached one hand out, covering his hand with her own. Chuck felt something drop into his hand. He closed his hand, then pulled it away and opened it. In his hand sat a small black box.