Rightfully

Blair never forgot. It was a cold day in hell if she ever forgot. Blair was the kind of girl who could forgive, but never forget – usually. Today she was having trouble trying to forget. Obviously, forgetting and forgiving went hand in hand. But no, not today, and rightfully so.

She played the next message on her phone, "hey B, it's Chuck… I just wanted to say I'm sorry in person. I mean, if the flowers haven't already spoken for me… it's just – I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

A cold, bitter laugh bubbled up from somewhere near her heart. Her cold hands felt numb against the silk of her sheets. It was not every day that you had a second great love in your life. It was not every day that the great love of your life cheats on you. It was not every day that the great love of your life cheats on you with a blonde. No, those were supposed to be one time things.

Oh, Blair, you're so wrong.

Perhaps this was penance for having sex with Chuck right after breaking up with Nate. Tears slipped down alabaster cheeks. If Chuck was apologizing, it must be big. He never apologized. Blair was not even sure if he knew how to be sorry.

"It's not my fault. I have done nothing wrong. This is all their self-esteem problems." Blair struggled with herself. The broken words were bleak and she wondered how long until she withered away and perished.

She blinked back tears and deleted all the messages on her phone. Blair was so much better than that. Why waste your life on people who do not want you to thrive and prosper? Even if she did feel like crying every two seconds, she would put on a brave face. She could show him what he was missing, that she was so much better than he.

Blair picked up her phone and dialed Serena, "S?"

The raspy voice of her best girl came pouring back, "I'm so sorry, Blair. Let me phone Kati, Is, and Jenny. We'll make it a girls' night and dish about Chuck, okay?"

There was a sniffle on Blair's end and Serena smiled. Blair was coping, at least, "no, it's okay. I just wanted to tell you that I won't be in town for a while. I think I need some time to myself, alright?"

She stood up and tied up her hair. All traces of make-up were replaced with a new batch and she practiced her pretend smile in the mirror. Blair could not help it. She threw her clothes into a Hermes suitcase, picked up her carry-all Marc Jacobs 'Stam' purse, and donned something suitable for an airplane.

Blair dialed another number, "Hello? Peter? Can you charter a flight for me to Europe, please? Preferably to Paris or London? Thank you, I will be there in two hours."

A make-up bag was thrown into her suitcase and she zipped it up. Anything else she could need would be bought once she arrived. Blair had no idea where she was going – she just wanted to escape.Serena and her friends knew she was right in wanting to leave.

For a fact, she knew that Chuck would never follow her. He hated planes. He would never last 10 hours on one. Blair was sure. She opened her drawer and left out the Erickson Beamon necklace on her vanity. Europe and some hard partying were calling her name. She did not care if her New York socialite friends found out through various tabloids. Blair was heading to Europe.

Somehow, through the drinking and the haze Blair found herself in her hotel with some rich French boy. He was kissing her neck and trying to seduce her. He was platinum blonde, had a fair complexion, and spoke brilliant English. He was charming and sweet. Ever since she had come to London, he had been attentive of her needs. Blair had him dubbed as 'the nice guy'. Blair did not want a nice guy. The only nice guy she had ever dated had cheated on her with her best friend.

"Vous êtes stresse?" he whispered in French.

Blair shook her head, "non, François."

He inclined his head and flopped down beside her, "you can tell me, you know. I have never gotten to know anyone such as you, in such a short time, Blair. Do you have a…significant other?"

There was a quick rush and Blair suddenly felt dizzy, but sober. The cogs in her brain whirred back into life. Chuck's face popped into her head. "Yes and no."

François's face contorted in confusion, "pourquoi?" He was confused, but rightfully so.

She traced a pattern in the silk sheets beneath them. Blair had not told anyone in London about her debacle with Chuck yet. However, she had gotten wind of the 'home base' receiving word of her partying in Europe. "parce que… he hurt me. He hurt me so bad, but I still love him."

François cradled her in his arms, "perhaps…you can reach a compromise?"

His purple eyes looked hurt, but he was still trying to help her. François was a sweet heart, she wished she could take him back to New York with her.

Blair really took moments like these to heart. She loved this guy. "Maybe.Until thenwe should sleep." She drew the duvet and comforter over themselves, her in an LBD and him in skinny black slacks.

And there she went into dreamland. In dreamland it was her and Chuck and just them. Everything was perfect and the way it should. Reality was simply a figment in a far, far away place. Blair was quite loath to admit to herself that all her relationships had failed. Perhaps, it was partly due to her. She would never know, though, as she was going to stay right here in Europe – quite possibly forever.

"I love you, Chuck Bass. I do."

Chuck was furious. Blair had left him without saying so two weeks earlier. The first insult was that she had left her 17th birthday present from him in her penthouse. The second insult was when she had left without telling him. The third insult lay written in the newspaper. The headline was 'WALDORF SOCIALITE IS PARTYING HARD IN EUROPE. WHERE IS BASS?' The article went on to spout various rumours and possible truths.

The reality was that he had messed up. Chuck Bass had wronged Blair Waldorf. It was something he had sworn never to do – ever. Now he was paying the consequences and he was angry. Chuck loved her, even if his lousy excuse was being drunk and egged on by Nathaniel, he never wanted to be without her.

Chuck was sorry. His heart felt it, his mind felt it, and his body felt it. He had not had good night's sleep in ages, the necklace she left he carried with him everywhere, and he was just so ready to snap at everyone. He had already tried to peg this on Nathaniel, but that just made him feel more immature and stupid. It was just all his fault. There were no more excuses.

He wanted desperately to fly into Paris to find her, but right now, it was not the air he feared. Chuck feared Blair Waldorf. Yes, that's right; Chuck feared that ninety-five pound, doe-eyed, label-whoring, package of girly evil. And rightfully so.

Chuck was miserable. And bloody rightfully fucking so.

A/N: What do you think?