I don't like this chapter very much but, enjoy. xoxo
He had been watching her from the Courtyard, white stocking covered legs crossed with her skirt riding up her thighs a bit. She was listening to the blonde, nodding her head up and down with her eyes glazing over as if she were bored. Dan reminded himself that they hadn't talked since the party and he hated it. He hated her.
Because what about liking him and being scared? What about kissing in the pantry with his hands on her? Did it mean anything to her? Did he mean anything to her? He felt himself walk towards her with his hand clutched onto the strap of his messenger bag as if he were holding on for dear life. (Maybe he was.)
"B, I just don't really get why he has t-" Serena stopped midsentence and flashed him a smile. "Oh, hey Dan."
"Hey Serena." he said, staring at the brunette who had her gaze fixed on a loose end of her sweater as she fiddled around with the string using one of her tiny fingers. He remembered the way her fingers felt on his jaw while she traced it's outline and smiled at him that night and how they- No. No. He should'nt be thinking about that. "Waldorf."
"Humphrey." she tilted her head to the side and smriked at him for a moment as if to say I don't fucking know you. "What were you saying, S?"
"Can we talk?"
"I'm sorry Cabbage Patch but Serena has been decontaminated from your Brooklyn ways, so run along." Blair rolled her eyes. It took every bit of him not to yell-to beg-Please tell me you're not.
He clenched his fists. "No, Blair. I meant you."
She stared at him for a moment shooting daggers with her eyes. "No, Humphrey. I will not help you dress better."
"Be nice, B." Serena smiled, Dan sighed and shot her a look saying thank you.
"Please?" he was fucking begging.
The brunette let out a huff and stepped down the table. He took her wrist, pulling her into an empty hall.
"Blair." he muttered, she looked down at her shoes. "Blair."
"What do you want?" her tone was hard, and he had no idea what to say because he didn't know what he wanted or why he had pulled her there. "Are you stupid, Humphrey? .." You. I want you. He decided but he didn't say it out loud.
"Do you like me, Waldorf?"
She froze at the question, not long ago she had asked the same question to Chuck on the rooftop of Kati Farkas' home where Blair held her seventeenth birthday party.
"Define like." she asked, mimicking the words Chuck had used that night because what if she did like him and what if she really was scared? Had Chuck felt the same that night? (I haven't slept I feel sick like sthere's something in my stomach. Fluttering.)
(She remembered the night of Rufus Humphrey's party in Serena's room on the bed where she had let Chuck lie down after she broke the kiss. You're not going to remember this in the morning. She told him, kissing him on the forehead. He sneered, saying Can't forget you, Waldorf. Never can, never will. She shook her head. I'll see you in school, Chuck. Then she walked out.)
He tapped his foot on the floor impatiently and bit his lip as if he were holding back a smile, she felt his grip tighten onto her wrist. She had forgotten about that and she should've pulled away as soon as she realized it but she didn't.
Answer me, Humphrey. She begged in her mind, squeezing her eyes shut.
"If you like me then I get to kiss you and you get to kiss me." he smiled that stupid smile, the one that made her insides twist and heart flutter.
She shook her head and breathed out. "It's not that easy." It was never that easy because it wasn't supposed to be easy.
"Because you won't make it easy, Blair." Because you had to fight for love. (Then again, what if it wasn't love?) "Why won't you let me do this properly?"
"Because this isn't part of the plan." she managed to muster under her breath. She was leaning against the lockers, her back on the cold metal with his lips inches from hers. Maybe she could move closer and feel his breath hit her lips. (The world wouldn't end, would it?)
"Because i'm not Nate? Because i'm from Brooklyn?" It's like a slap across the face, the way he had said those words. It was as if he was mocking her fairytales. Her plan. "Because i'm not the shallow stereotypical knight in shining armor? Because you're no damsel in distress either."
"No," she said. "I'm not because I don't need to be saved by anyone like you." she had no idea what she was saying. (Because she did need saving.)
His lips were so close. Too close. She had been wondering if he tasted the way he did at Rufus' party. Like scotch and Colgate. She wanted to taste him again. (Just a bit and maybe then she'll stop wanting him.)
Chuck had been mindlessly wandering the hallways after he just had a fix of hash in the back alley of the school where he used to take drags with Nathaniel. He was fucking high and he needed a fucking drink. (Scotch, please.)
He had stumbled into numerous empty rooms, muttering random words like Blair and love and fucking because that's what he needed. (No, not love. He needed a fuck and Blair. He needed to fuck Blair because the bitch won't let him and couldn't take anyone else.) He rolled his eyes and took drunk steps out of a particular room which he knew was the English room. When he spotted Humphrey holding Waldorf by the wrists against the lockers something in him boiled and made him run.
Don't fucking touch her because if I can't you can't either. He wanted to yell, when his fist came on contact with Humphrey's jaw he decided that it was already like saying that.
"Don't touch her." he muttered angrily as Humphrey fell to the ground, his hand cupping the part Chuck had hit. "Don't ever touch her!"
"Chuck!" the brunette gasped behind him. "What the fuck."
He rolled his eyes and looked at her.
"He can't touch you." he amended proudly with his chin up in the air. "You. Can't. Touch. Her." he told Humphrey with a glare.
"Why is that?" she raised her eyebrow in her snarky Blair like way. She pushed him and pushed him so hard. He hated it and those damn butterflies that never even left him.
"Because." I can't and you won't let me. "You don't like him." Because she didn't.
"Wow, thanks for the tip, Sherlock." she snapped angrily. "Humphrey and I were just talking about Serena and how she wanted to do nothing with him. He took it too seriously I guess."
"He. can't. touch. you."
He turned to look at Humphrey. One hand on the floor used to support his body weight, the other with his hand on his cheek as he winced from the after effects of the punch. He felt a smirk creep along his face as he stumbled away.
