A/N: The first section was mostly based on my previous and early knowledge Gilmore Girls (the other GG.) I used to watch it all the time, so sorry for all the blatant references and my opinions channeled through Blair.
Summary: She had been so confused lately. Especially with the fights her parents had and the absence of those who mattered, she couldn't understand it. For the first time in her life, she couldn't decode the look in his eye when he stared at her.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Quotes belong to Gossip Girl and Gilmore Girls also does not belong to me. Also, I have never seen Aida, but I am pretty sure it's an opera.
Gilmore Girls
This is what I needed to perk me up. I couldn't sleep a wink.
We know. We heard you watching Gilmore Girls all night. Again.
Blair couldn't remember the last time she actually slept more than three hours. She didn't count on turning into an insomniac. That was more his department. There were choice moments when she would allow herself succumb to sleep. His steady breathing lulled her and even though she knew she shouldn't be in his bed, letting the sweet scent of his love drench her, she fell asleep anyway. But whenever she would awake, so would he. She never caught him sleeping himself.
I haven't slept. I feel like there's something in my stomach... fluttering.
But that couldn't be because of her. It wasn't like that. She would catch him though, his nose buried into her hair when her eyes drifted close. Sometimes she would open them, and he was just there. Not even trying. Just never sleeping. He would just stare at her with that gaze of liquid seduction and she felt sorry. She wondered what it was.
Soon, they didn't even bother with sleep. He would trace the freckles on her collarbone and she knew that he wished she would. It made him feel uncomfortable when she would stare at him in the way he would stare at her.
He wasn't one for talking either. Not like that. But she caught him sighing with contentment at her soft words. He would even close his eyes.
And that's when it all went to hell.
So when she turned away from him again, only letting tears fall when she was sure the elevator had closed, she didn't think his malady would plague her. But she supposed that was her punishment for turning away from him when he needed her the most because of her own weakness.
Now she could only console herself with the epic love that was Rory and Jess. She knew this was out of character for her. She liked Dean at first, sure. He was nice and easy to manipulate (not that Rory would ever stoop that low.) And Logan seemed her type. Womanizing rich kid with an inheritance to his father's company. That made sense, didn't it? But you really couldn't underestimate the power of falling for someone who just knew you better than anyone. And said so. And knew this.
Jess knew how to get at Rory. He used women to inspire her jealousy but had standards. As much as he wanted her, he would never cheat with her on her trusting boyfriend. And you had to respect that.
Blair hated how Jess didn't say anything about his father and his problems and just bailed. But that struck a chord with her anyway. God knows why.
A romantic side of her wished Rory had left with Jess when he asked her to as Blair cried at his retreating form. (This wasn't familiar, either.) But he came back. He always came back. And that was something to be admired. He knew when she was compromising herself for a man and told her he knew her better than anyone.
He knew when her birthday was.
Blair was filled with self-loathing as she watched it. And the one moment when Rory could have left the cheating bastard to be with her soul's mate... she just didn't. She had wanted to throw something at the screen but now when she watched it, she couldn't really blame Rory. Some things just happened and when you wanted to desperately to be with someone... you just couldn't. She couldn't leave Logan because she loved him.
And Blair hated her for it. It didn't make sense for her to be hating a fictional character on the CW for not being with the man that everyone knew she had to be with, but she hated her all the same.
She heard the phone call her mother made to her father in the middle of the night. It was right after Eleanor found the order for peonies Blair had made on her credit card at two in the morning and found her crying herself to sleep on the bathroom floor. Luckily, the pipes weren't running and Blair didn't need another trip to her doctor.
But there was a call made her to father. As soon as Blair was gathered into Harold's arms, she knew that he knew. She knew what it looked like and it looked bad. She never cried this hard over Nate and it didn't make any sense. But her father just knew.
"It's alright," he assured her soothingly.
"I don't know where I went wrong," she whispered into his arm. She wasn't sure if her father could hear her.
He could.
"I just wanted to be there. And he wouldn't let me. I just wanted him to love me."
She knew how pathetic she sounded. Crying over a stupid boy who refused to give her his heart. Selfish bastard. She didn't say the name. But it was obvious. To Harold, at least.
"He doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, darling," Harold replied. "He's not Nate. You know that."
"I don't want Nate," Blair groaned in annoyance, highly aware of the moisture seeping from her eyes. "Why can't anyone see that?"
"He's going through a hard time," Harold said. "Just talk to him."
"He doesn't need me," Blair whispered. "Doesn't want me. Never has, never will."
"I highly doubt that."
Blair decided not to listen. She let her father place her into bed and she cried again for week straight. Then she was bone dry. She refused to cry over her boy anymore.
But she absolutely wept when Jess finally told Rory that he loved her.
And left again.
Tragedy
Is Chuck joining us? You know how he loves a good tragedy.
Blair wasn't stupid. She saw it. But she was also very good at denial. Which is why she cried when her father packed his bags and left for France with Roman. But before that, everything was different. Everything was different because Serena was gone, Nate was gone, and her new best friend was a womanizing bastard. And as much as she hated it, she needed him right now. She was starting to admit to herself that this might be the last time she would go to the opera with her father. And somehow the only person who would understand was currently getting laid in the womens' bathroom.
Bastard.
"So," her father said in the lobby, breaking Blair from her venomous thoughts. "No Nate tonight?" She tore her eyes away from the bathroom door.
"No," she said. "No Nate tonight."
Or ever.
She could feel him slowly slipping away. She knew he was fading but Blair was never played for a fool. But she felt one. Standing there, she knew she was losing.
"So there's an extra ticket?" Harold asked in interest.
"No," Blair sighed, not able to believe she was about to say what she was about to say. "I brought someone else."
If there was one thing you could say about Chuck Bass, it was that he could make an entrance. Sure enough, seconds after Harold's question, Blair didn't even have a chance to answer. Chuck stumbled out of the womens' bathroom, smoothing his pants down. Scandalized society matrons followed him with their eyes as Harold laughed softly. Chuck would worry any other parent, but parents never acted like Blair's father. He didn't know discipline. But he knew Chuck took care of his daughter.
"Chuck," Harold extended his hand warmly.
"Harold," Chuck nodded. His chanced a sidelong glance over at the girl next to him. His heart spiked at her angry glance. He always got excited when they went head to head. But Harold's perfect daughter would never do anything like that in front of her father.
Chuck smirked down at her and couldn't resist. He slid a suave hand across her bare shoulders. He felt her stiffen beneath his touch and he tried to suppress laughter.
Harold didn't miss it. But he didn't seem worried, either. He wasn't one for the difficult conversations.
"I'm surprised to see you here tonight," Harold said conversationally.
"Well you know what a fan I am of tragedy," Chuck replied. "Aida is one of the best."
"It's a romantic tragedy," Blair replied snidely. "Not really what you're best known for."
Chuck laughed slightly, tightening his grip across her shoulders. If her father wasn't standing there, he was sure he definitely would have received a sharp elbow to the gut.
"Speaking of which," Harold interrupted the tension. "Ever think of settling down with a nice girl?"
Chuck laughed gently. Blair suddenly felt heat flash across her shoulders. What was that about?
"I don't think there's a girl in existence who could appreciate my magnificence," Chuck said unrepentantly. Not that it was very hard to make her father laugh, but it still made Blair's stomach churn. She didn't like them getting along. She didn't know why, she just didn't.
"Besides," he said, leaning even closer into her, "how could I take Blair out if I was tied down to some girl?"
"I have a boyfriend," Blair snapped without being able to stop herself. Obviously he knew but she didn't like how Chuck's dark eyes scanned her like he owned her. Like he could see right through her and just knew her. No one was allowed to look at her like that.
"Not tonight, Waldorf," Chuck whispered huskily against her ear. He ignored the obvious sniff as she whirled away. Chuck looked at his shoes, now fidgeting alone in Harold's presence.
"It's good of you to look after her like that," Harold said. Chuck narrowed his eyes, trying to see. But there was no manipulation in Harold's eyes. There was no trace of his daughter. He was being completely sincere.
"She hasn't really been herself lately."
Chuck couldn't tell him the truth. Harold was so innocent, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't tell him that the reason acid was rotting her molars was because of him. Even if the next comment did catch him off guard.
"But you take care of her."
"What?" Chuck blurted in surprise. Because it wasn't true. It most definitely was not true. "Blair does not need my help."
"She acts like she doesn't," Harold replied, clapping him on the shoulder, "but you give it to her anyway. I appreciate it."
Chuck stared after the patriarch of the Waldorf clan as he walked off. His eyes trained back to Blair who was currently at the bar. Just because they were each other's default best friend didn't mean anything. Quite the opposite, really. Just because he picked her up off the bathroom floor and she nursed his hangovers didn't mean a god damn thing. But he couldn't for the life of his figure why he was walking towards her to monitor her alcohol intake. It wasn't like he cared or anything.
No. He didn't care.
That much.
The lights began to flicker as she knocked back something with a blurry label. Her father was none the wiser. He never knew the things she did in the dark. Anymore. He never seemed to notice how she still cringingly still made herself more beautiful. No one really noticed anymore.
She felt him at her elbow. He wouldn't say anything, she knew. That didn't stop him from being annoyingly everpresent. She felt his tender fingers on her elbow, silently begging her something that she could never really deliver.
"You go," she told him.
"Blair," he breathed. She really hated it when he said her name like that. She used to wonder, but now she knew exactly how he got women into bed with him.
"Chuck," she replied, only letting him see her vulnerability for a second. "Please."
He could never deny her when she was like that. He sighed, only admitting defeat when she looked at him like that and waited.
He would always wait for her.
Blair couldn't find it in herself to turn around as she felt him retreat. She had been so confused lately. Especially with the fights her parents had and the absence of those who mattered, she couldn't understand it. For the first time in her life, she couldn't decode the look in his eye when he stared at her. She resolved that she would just have to stop looking him in the face. Which was a shame. She hated that she thought it was a shame. She hated how she actually enjoyed looking at his face.
But when he was the only one there for her, she just couldn't accept it. She couldn't understand how some boozing attention-whore was the person who could nurse her back from the brink. But he was. That didn't mean she had to accept it just yet. Or ever. That didn't mean that she had to address how when their eyes met, she just couldn't look away.
Instead, she took a deep breath as the lights began to flicker. She would be strong. If not for anyone else, for herself. Because if there was one thing she was good at, it was pretending.
She pretended all the way down the hall when she saw something she knew was happening. She knew what it was, but that didn't mean that she had ever seen it. And she never wanted to. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt the tears overwhelm her. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stop her cries from spilling out.
And she ran.
Her orange dress fluttered around her ankles as she bolted down the lobby. The back turned to hers could only be ones person's as he downed a flute of champagne.
He was waiting for her.
He was always waiting for her.
Any other time, he wouldn't have turned. Any other time he would have been trying to convince himself that he didn't want her and that she truly hated him after terrible things he had said to her. But now he knew she was falling apart and he couldn't think of anything else. At the sound of her heels pounding on the floor Chuck turned.
She felt his penetrating gaze that made her halt in her tracks. Before he could even address what was happening, he saw Harold emerge from around the corner.
He was adjusting his tie.
Chuck looked at Blair's distraught expression and knew exactly what had happened. He watched her as her hands trembled slightly when her father put his hand on her shoulder, leading her to their boxes.
Chuck put himself in between Harold and his daughter. He knew Blair was fragile and could only handle so much at the moment.
The lights dimmed and Blair looked up at the presence on her knee. He wasn't using his bedroom eyes at her. He wasn't trying to seduce her. He just wanted her to be okay and she knew this. They stayed like that for as long as they could. He never took away his comforting touch and for some reason, she just seemed to keep needing it.
It was during the mournful aria did Blair really break down. Her father was so entranced by the magic that he didn't notice. Blair let the tears stream down her face and her throat choke with sobs that was drowned out by the soprano. Chuck did the only thing he knew how to do.
They had to get out.
They had to run.
And surprisingly, he did feel the need to take care of her.
He shifted her hair from her ear so he could whisper in it. He felt her tense under his touch. He should have expected as much.
"Do you want to get out of here?"
He was giving her a choice. He was letting her decide to leave with him. She could stay and pretend that there was nothing wrong. She could pretend and she could stay and Chuck would be none the wiser... even if he was.
In a moment, everything changed. In that moment for the first time, Blair decided to trust him.
That didn't mean that she would stop being Blair.
"I thought you loved a good tragedy," Blair said dryly, her ruby lips at his ear.
That tremor through his body was definitely due to the cold temperature in the opera house. No other explanation.
"Not this kind," he sighed as he brushed away her tears.
And she let him.
"Not this one."
