J'y Suis Jamais Alle (I've Never Been There) - Yann Tiersen
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||- Chapter Seven-||
Blair was scrutinising her when she heard a knock on her open door. She smiled at Louis widely as he walked in and stood in front of her.
"So," she said coyly. "I know that you and I should be busy with the preparations...but I just happen to have authority to two exclusive tickets to tonight's orchestra at Dicapo," she sing-songed.
Louis returned her smile and reached out for her hand, enveloping it with his own.
"I hate to break your heart, Blair, but Mr. Rose just invited me to his dinner party where he invites his near friends. I dropped by to inform you. I know I had said I'd spent time with you, but...there's nothing I can do to get out of this proposition."
Blair's smile died down. "Cyrus?" she made a noise of disbelief and then sought damage-control. "I can talk to him. I'll tell him to postpone it – and we can -"
"I did. I talked to him. I told him that too, but he said he only had his dinner parties on Sundays when all his friends arrive too. And...I don't feel like refusing him, Blair. He's only here for the next two days, isn't he?" he led her to the bed to sit.
She looked at him, disoriented, "I promise," he continued. "Really promise that we'll spend the evening together tomorrow. No high society parties, no parents and no family friends – just you and me," he touched her cheek. "Blair? Last time, I swear. You can't imagine how frustrated I am about this too."
"I don't know. This is supposed to be for us – together, and we have hardly spent any time in these months, and -" just explaining it made her impatient and uncomfortable. She couldn't fight with Louis.
They never fought.
"Really, Blair," Louis filled in her abrupt silence. "I will, this time. I will tell Lucien to book two advanced tickets right now and we can go out for dinner after that too..." she smiled reluctantly at that. He smiled too and he proceeded to kiss her, disappointment slowly weighing on her.
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"Meet me at St. Anne's Warehouse, 6 pm. Sharp."
He had suggested they go there a couple of days back.
Dan scrolled the screen for some more time aimlessly. He had grown so familiar to it that he could just hear her voice saying it.
He glanced at the clock. 5:30 and stalked out.
:::::::
He spotted her, eyeing the poster on the walls while moving away from an enthusiastic crowd cautiously.
"How did you fit this into your snug schedule, Waldorf?" he came to a stop beside her, gazing at Rosanne Cash.
"I needed a break," she whispered after some time. "Besides, Louis is out with Cyrus on an private fête," she remarked caustically, then sighed. "I am not even allowed to spend time with my own fiancé," she said unsympathetically.
He turned his head at her. "Let's go?"
She responded to his soft inquiry with a mocking expression to which he just shrugged innocently and led her in the direction, a small smile slipping onto his lips helplessly.
:::::::
"Just shuffle along, Waldorf. Two feet more," he spoke. "You're used to leading the way." They had finished with the movie.
"Not when my plans involve stepping into a swampy, slushy…thing. Which they never are, not even fortuitously," she stressed, almost cringing back two steps and falling into him. "Where and why are we going -" he stepped ahead and lead her by the elbow.
"Dan, stop dragging me into -" she stopped abruptly and inhaled behind clenched teeth when he stopped and she saw the view.
"So," Dan looked at Blair smugly after a considerable stretch of time.
Her wide-eyed gaze turned to address him. "Wow."
He nibbled on his lower lip to restrain a chuckle. "We're at the Empire Stores, if you're wondering, and this is the Brooklyn Bridge Park. And that, of course." He pointed gracefully. "Is the Brooklyn Bridge. Looks much better from this side, doesn't it?"
She stared at the view. "Maybe if the grass was mowed and there were actual railings and everyone wouldn't have to go back with their shoes completely destroyed in that marsh that is supposed to be a lame excuse for a pathway, then yes, it might."
"Oh, well," Dan mumbled, scratching the back of his head.
"Conversely," Blair went on, ignoring him. "It feels nice coming here where there are," she looked around. "More children than trashed teenagers," her voice dropped down and she rested her eyes on him. "It's unreal," she said quietly in a voice that contradicted her words. "The best view I've ever had," she looked ahead.
He looked at her softly. "Come on, let's go sit over there," he pointed and lead her. "Better view."
Blair tucked her legs beneath her on the bench. Dan leaned back and folded his arms at the back of his head.
"You know…I can see more stars tonight than the city lights," he observed, looking up.
She followed his gaze. "It's been so long since I have seen stars," she commented quietly.
"How long, Blair," he whispered back. He glanced from the corner of his eyes and saw her own roaming over the span of the sky.
"The last time I did some severe stargazing was…when things were falling apart with Chuck. About one and a half years back. It was the night after Dorota's wedding after..." she turned to look up at him from under her lashes. "You know." He nodded quietly.
"And I went up to the terrace," she continued, staring ahead. "That's one of the few times I remember looking at the stars. Besides when I was a seven-year old. Dorota used to take me then. But I don't think the Upper East Side sees many stars," she looked at him, slightly inquiringly and Dan noticed with awe that her eyes shining too, as if in reflection. "So…that tradition faded out," she finished.
He exhaled slowly. "That is…incredible," he remarked at her impulsive frankness. "I think we…I think you need to be introduced then," he looked at her.
"Introduced," she giggled inaudibly.
He shrugged. "I made up some of my own patterns when I was younger," he informed awkwardly.
She offered him her smile of a cheshire cat and tilted her head. "Did you? I would be thrilled to be acquainted with your novice discoveries."
"Well," he ducked his head and looked up. "I can't guarantee you'll see them all tonight or not, can I? So maybe we can make up our own in the process," he looked at her by his side and grinned.
And sometimes along the way when he realised that he was playing with her fingers, she hadn't let go.
:::::::
"And I see creepy people here," Blair observed, shrinking.
"No, they are…" he noticed her disgusted expression and followed her line of sight. "Uh," he grabbed her hand. "It's just this street. About twenty more seconds before we cross it…I think we should have hailed that taxi," he said instead.
"What are you talking about? I could trade my annual birthday tiaras for nightly walking hours in Brookyln."
"Hey. Blair. I'm sorry. Wrong rule of thumb," he mumbled.
"You mean you took one yard for a mile?" she said drily.
Dan stopped as they crossed the street. "See? No more lurking population here. Much better," he said in a doubtfully reassuring voice.
"Are you sure, Humphrey?" she asked as she scanned the deserted area.
"Yeah," he exhaled. "Ten minutes from here," he said confidently,
She made a vocal noise and swung their locked hands in protest. "Oh. Right. And those ten minutes will transmute to half an hour, I'm presuming? My feet, Humphrey, my feet," she whimpered uncharacteristically and looked down at her feet and Dan trailed her sight and they looked back up together after a while.
Blair stared at him. "I think I have blisters!" she cried. "And it would require Dorota atleast ten rounds of tea oil before my feet are reinstated to their original health, especially after all those…bogs."
He considered her solemnly. "You're right, it's my fault. I should have hired that taxi for us and not resorted to this so-called shortcut – and I feel like such an ass – I could lift you or something - to the loft – I'm sure it's just ten minutes and it won't be much of a deal –"
"Humphrey -" she interrupted his babble in a weak, caught off-guard tone. "That's…really not necessary. I can handle ten minutes actually; I'm not in such dire need of physical assistance, And really, I wasn't…creeped out," she reiterated feebly.
He looked at her and shook his head because she looked like she had just been a victim of reverse psychology.
"I'm serious," he said. "I promise I'll run some hot water when we reach the loft. Better than what Dorota…runs. And -"
"Oh my God, let's just go! I was only throwing a tantrum and why wasn't that automatically neurotransmitted to you? I think the stars dazzled your senses into impotence. I'm malicious enough myself to stand creepy people, she dragged him.
"Well," he replied from behind her, surprised at the tirade. "You really sounded mad. And it's a really late hour; I hadn't planned this to go beyond what it has."
"Why haven't I ever seen this phenomenal sample of ransacked architecture before?" she digressed cheerily. "Won't you care to inform me, Dan?"
He stared at her, thought this night was impossible and considered how she made him feel both stupid and smart as the situation demanded it and answered her.
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Dan Humphrey was mesmerised by the sight of a barefooted Blair Waldorf on his couch with her legs sprawled over to the extreme end.
She had declined his offer of the hot steam, explaining that she didn't want to exhaust his water resources and that she had mistaken a hapless twig for a blister on her sole.
He walked over to the couch, having changed into a fresh shirt after they had arrived, and handed over one of the two coffee cups he was holding. "Scoot."
She shuffled her legs back deftly and he plopped down.
She was checking her phone. He regarded her next to him, sitting assuredly and for once not commenting offhandedly about things that made him question contrasts. For a moment he felt lightheaded by the sheer visceral sense of familiarity that somehow felt like it really belonged.
She shifted her eyes to him surreptitiously and caught him looking at his expression, which was most probably dizzy, he thought. "What is it?" she narrowed her eyes.
"Not much," he said casually. "Coffee," he gestured.
She took a sip. "I called up home. The chauffeur should be here within twenty minutes."
He swimmed back to the shores of reality.
"He should be," he picked up the newspaper from the coffee table. "Art show tomorrow," he pointed at a column.
"Visit and send me your verdict," she replied shortly.
He sighed. "Right, I get it. More preparations. You're missing out on a lot. Caveat Emptor."
"I knew there are obvious responsibilities that come with a royal wedding," she stressed. "It's even fun somewhat."
He raised his eyebrows. "It is!" she put her cup on the table and swung her legs on her side. "Why wouldn't I like shopping on the beat? It's just…been in fast motion lately. I am...just finding it hard to keep up."
"Which is why you need breaks such as today's."
"Today was a rare outing. Possibly the only in a long time," she dismissed.
"I have no idea how you're doing this," he sighed.
"I have no idea what you're referring to," she said shakily and shifted her interest to her cell phone again.
He rolled his eyes in exasperation and snatched her phone from her fingers as she let out a tiny whine, then dropped it on the table behind the couch, out of her reach.
"Open your eyes," he leaned closer.
"Cheesy," she observed, frowning, not even arguing.
"Fine. I'm going to leave this issue alone entirely," he leaned back and brought his cup to his lips.
"Alright," she retorted with wavering confidence. She tapped her feet slowly for a while as he observed her side profile.
She turned her head to face him and he raised his eyebrows again.
She began saying something but then her resolve broke and she instead asked in a tired voice, "Do you think you can make me another cup?"
He exhaled shortly. "As much as I love promoting my beverage skills, I don't think so. You need sleep. Not caffeine."
She scowled at him and turned away.
He placed his cup, turned at right angle to her and shifted a few inches closer. She cleared her throat. She was feeling threatened about Louis, he could tell.
"I should get the sandals from the washing -"
"Yep, sure, good idea," he shuffled his legs to make way, but she walked right into his knees and almost stumbled.
"Woah, careful," he laughed and caught he arm and found that she almost a breath away from him. He stared, his grin fading, but didn't let go. But she straightened up shakily and swallowed, "Brookyln is not good for my health," and left the room.
Dan watched her back as she grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared.
What was he doing today? He reflected as an upsurge of emotions flowed through him.
He cared about how she felt about things, regardless of what his own selfishness told him to do.
He thought of the two tickets he had considered buying and started feeling guilty. It bothered her a lot. She was virtually vibrating like a tuning fork. She was engaged and they were hanging out. He winced as he registered his insides lurch at that thought. Albeit the fact that it wasn't technically defined; and he was thankful for it because he didn't want a suspicious spouse on his conscience.
He still felt like a douche.
All of these things he was doing with her – walking, arguing, observing her – and he couldn't help Louis's face popping up at the front shield. It was bothersome. Like an unnecessary intrusion. Like a curtain he needed to draw aside And he felt guilty about that.
Because Louis wasn't a curtain. Dan was the curtain. Atleast in her perspective. He was the one she wanted to push aside. Him and all the insecurities he brought with everything that he had said to her. And as much as he enjoyed knowing that what he said and did got under her skin so badly...he was trespassing. Louis wouldn't like it.
Louis, he worded out to himself, was. Her. Fiance.
Something inside him contracted., making him feel small. He didn't want distance. He was tired of distance. He didn't want to not see Blair Waldorf. He was sick of telephones. He wanted to see her living. Breathing. In front of him. He didn't even mind the intermittent ego stabs. He could even discard every component of his tasteless wardrobe for her; it dawned on him in numb horror.
But most of all – he didn't like it at all - but he practically heard something snapping inside him whenever he saw her with Louis. It was sick, them being so cuddly and what Lily described as cute – when he knew they didn't go beyond that. He wanted to tell her that. But that would be pretty out of character of him.
But then he didn't even know where to draw the line anymore when it came to character.
Why did things have to go sic on him when things were going smoothly?
He had to let her choose for herself. She knew he didn't approve. He had signalled that in every possible way he could.
But he hadn't made her known of something that was constantly hovering over him either.
He hadn't specified that he was an option too.
Every single time his mind wandered over to this immeasurable angst tucked away in a corner, he had pulled away. He had done it since that day. He had done it even though atleast he was not a child. He had done it because rejection failed him. He had done it because he had to be kidding himself.
At some level, he was annoyed with her because fairytales really didn't exist in the world he lived in.
If they did...if they did, he wouldn't have to pull away from that corner. If they did, the effortlessness they shared wouldn't have been as bottomless in its future as it was. If they did, things would have fallen into place. And they would have felt right.
So he could just sit here and lose his mind not trying to explore that corner while the knots tied themselves tighter till they finally needed to be cut, or he could venture right through. He could continue playing the slideshow of his interpretations on every little thing she said and every action she did, or perhaps...he could just let her know.
Two rings broke him out of his reverie.
He checked his phone. It was a text from Nate.
"Arriving at 10 tom. morning instead of 11. Thought to update!"
He registered the other ring.
It was Blair's phone. He checked the screen.
Louis.
He thought desperately, whether to just pick it up or not and didn't hear the frantic footsteps while the phone kept ringing.
"What is this?" he heard her voice, her sharp, resonating voice and looked up, caught off-guard.
She was holding a book.
A book he had just memorised very angle of.
A book he had gotten a 'complimentary' pre-sold copy of this very morning in an anonymous package.
His book.
Author's Note:
Anon review replies:
chiara: Haha, no, you didn't read too much into it. :) Sorry, I have outdone myself with a late update this time, lol, atleast according to me. I had planned to update much sooner but somehow this chapter didn't come to me until much later on. And thanks! Keeping characters in-character is the biggest compliment to me, I think. :)
Just another reviewer: Hahaha. Well, Luois, I think, is supposed to be nice. I liked him very much before dair happened. And doing a u-turn to his character would only feel glaringly contrived. :) Thanks!
Mooni: Thank you so much for the encouragement! I'm so glad it made you think that, since they certainly have a vast amount of unexplored potential. :) Thanks a lot again!
