Author: Lauren.
Rating: Rated M.
Character/Pairing: Blair Waldorf, Nate Archibald, Dan Humphrey, Serena Van der Woodsen, Dan/Blair, Nate/Blair.
Summary: Sometimes Blair feels like she's always in between. Nate/Blair, Dan/Blair.
Disclaimer: GG isn't mine. Especially not it's shitty ass more recent seasons. Although I do wish I owned the books.
Author's Note: Oh my Lord, it's been a long time since I've updated. Let me know what you think, it's been a while but I still love those reviews.
She's sprawled out on her bedspread, legs lying at awkward angles, hand clenched around a fist of the silky blue comforter that her Dad bought her, his last gift before he left them. Or rather, before he finally came out of the closet. Blair should have guessed really, no straight man spent that much time in Bendel's.
It's as if the more she considers her life, the more difficult it becomes to accept. She'd gotten to the point at which she'd accepted her mistakes, could shrug off even the cruelest of taunts about bed hopping and boy swapping. Because what did their opinion matter anyway. She was Blair Waldorf.
Except that she hadn't been that girl for a long time now. She liked to pretend there was no old or new, merely Blair, one person who'd survived. But in the end, there was a seperation. Between now and then. Between what she'd done and what she was trying to do. The confusing part was that both her past and present contained the same people. Nate, Serena, Chuck. Dan. They were all there, like pieces on a chess board.
Serena's loping steps brought her out of her thoughts. As she entered the room Blair could smell the essential oils mix she always wore, could hear the swish of her hair, feel the clumsy gracefulness of her gait. She collapsed beside her and the bed covers fluttered for a moment in the breeze before settling.
They remained just like that, in silence, for a couple more minutes. "Who were you with?" Blair doesn't mean to sound so accusing, does she? Not that it matters, they've had this conversation countless times before.
"No one," Serena replies, all of the laughter from earlier dissapated.
Silence. Cars outside roared past, the wind blew the gauzy curtains.
"You're marrying Nate," there's a cold, hard fist in Serena's voice and it catches Blair by surprise. Her stomach clenches.
"Yes," her voice is firm and clean, like a parent scolding a noisy child. She doesn't know why or where this topic came from but clearly Serena had wanted, needed to say it because then her body untensed and she rolled onto her stomach, knocked her foot playfully against Blair's knee.
"So, you wanna watch Tiffany's?"
It's a few days later, over breakfast, that everything becomes serious. They're sharing the New Yorker, Nate with the Sports section, Blair scanning the rest for anything of interest.
"I was thinking we should get an apartment."
It shocks her so much she chokes a little on her mouthful of cappuccino. She stares at him until he raises his eyes to meet hers. "I mean, we're getting married so it makes sense," there's hesitation in his voice, he's waiting for her approval.
When she was sixteen, this would have been a dream. Actually, in one recurring dream she'd had, Nate had proposed and whisked her away after revealing he was in fact a prince who'd been forced to hide his true identity to protect himself. And as much as she wanted to smile and squeeze his hand, she could hear Anne Archibald's voice. Wouldn't that be lovely Nate? For you and Blair to have your own space, it's silly for the two of you to be living seperately, after all you're going to be married...
"I suppose," she replied, trying not to sound as unsure as she felt. She'd known it would happen, of course, but so soon? She'd only just settled back into her old room. And she didn't want to give up her space, her closet, her freedom. Returning her gaze to the paper her eyes lighted on a familiar name. Journeys by Daniel Humphrey.
Her pupils focused and she flicked across the lines. It was well written, too angsty for her liking but interesting. Was he a regular contributor now? It didn't have his photo published but she presumed he'd been against that, he never did like any pictures of himself. Especially not anything she'd taken. He'd always squint or close his eyes at the wrong moment and she'd be left exasperated.
"Blair?" she glanced up and couldn't help but smile at how young and worried Nate looked.
"We should get an apartment," she responded, squeezing his hand with her own. A grin formed on his handsome face and he brought her knuckles to his lips, pressing a light kiss to them.
"I'm gonna go meet up with Chuck, go for a drink or something," getting to his feet he knocked invisible creases from his Brook Brothers slacks and took one last mouthful of coffee "See you tonight," he leant across the table, kissing her with easy intimacy.
Looking back to the article, Blair chewed her bottom lip. Nate had placed his mug down right in the centre of it, and as she lifted it, drops of coffee obscured almost the last half, rendering it unreadable. She'd never know what Dan had to say.