Hey guys, first and foremost, thanks for all the reviews, favorites and follows. I really appreciate them. Secondly, I finished writing this story at approximately midnight so if there are any spelling mistakes, I'm so sorry but I was very eager to publish this chapter and I'm way too tired to edit right now. But I'll do it in the morning definitely. Thirdly, this chapter is filled with dialogue between Dan and Blair and we're basically spending the day with these two characters as they navigate their ways around their feelings for each other. I really hope you enjoy, and again and again and again, Thank you guys so much for the support. Much Luv! Last thing though, would you guys want a few chapters from Blair's perspective or should I just stick with Dan's?

Summer Lovin'.

If the weather continues acting in accordance with my day-to-day moods then New York, be prepared for snowflakes falling into your slushies next summer. It's Sunday and sun rays are literally scoping through my window panes and damn near burning holes into my skin. I mean, I know summer days are associated with bliss and nirvana and all other things where happiness is concerned, but am I that happy that the seasonal change into colder days has skipped all the gears and went straight into reverse? Bringing us all right back into the warmer weather? Well, maybe not, but I'd like to think my feelings has had such an effect nonetheless. Mmm, 'my feelings'. I chuckle even thinking about them. It's absurd how your tummy does summersaults when you feel a certain way about someone. How your throat catches and your breath hitches. How your lips corner and your eyes twinkle. Our bodies tell the stories of our feelings better than words ever could. I turn on my bed to move out the sun's glare and just as I sit up and plant my feet on the ground, my phone rings. I don't think I've ever grabbed at it this fast before.

"Hello?" I say quickly.

"Humphrey!" Her voice always calls for the response of a smile from my lips, "What are you doing today?"

"Waldorf..." I chuckle, "...the day's just begun, so I still need to figure it out." I say as I wipe my sleepy eyes.

"Well save your brain from the strenuous task of thinking because I've already planned your day out for you."

"Oh, that's very thoughtful of you." My head shakes in laughter.

"It's never an issue..." She teases, "...text me your address and I'll be at your place in the next hour. Ciao ciao." I try to interject and ask her what it is we're actually doing but she ends the call abruptly.

I resort to texting:

Where are we going? What are we doing?

-Dan

That's an odd address.

-Blair

Haha, very funny. Come on, I'm serious Waldorf.

-Dan

Someone's cranky in the morning. Don't worry about it, it's super innocent. Just get done Humphrey...and send me the damn address!

-Blair

I just roll my eyes and let out a laugh because I know there's no way I'm going to win with her. Ever. But as I type out my address in the text box, there's these weird feelings that pop up out of nowhere. It comes after I type Brooklyn, but after a few seconds of hesitation, I shrug the feeling off. There's no need to be embarrassed of living in Brooklyn. Especially if it's the gentrified part. Unless of course my embarrassment stems from a moral compass that rebukes gentrification, then I have all the right to be embarrassed. I finally send the text off and get out of bed to head into a shower. As I walk out my room though I'm met by someone who I'd much rather not see today.

"Hey, son." My dad smiles at me.

"Hey." I say awkwardly through my teeth.

"You're up early?"

"Yeah, I was gonna get into a shower and then ask you if I could go out?"

"Out? A day before school?" My dad's eyebrows furrow.

"Well, I haven't really gone anywhere the entire summer because of the catering, so I was hoping you'd understand?" I bite my teeth.

"What time will you be back?"

"Before 6?"

"5 and you've got to do the dishes tonight."

Relief washes over me, "Okay, thanks."

I brush past my dad and head to the bathroom. I manage to shower, get dressed and eat breakfast all within 45 minutes. My dad hands me some cash and before long I'm standing on the sidewalk outside the loft, waiting patiently. Throughout my wait though I fully expect a limousine to pull up to the curb, but instead a cab does and the back window rolls down. She's sitting on the seat farthest from the curb but she leans forward and lowers her sunglasses to look up at me with a cheeky smile. I bend down to return it.

"Hey." I can't understand how she always manages to say that so soft and cutely.

"Hey." I think my cheeks might actually be turning red.

We both just look at each other for an awkward yet comfortable few seconds, nearly laughing at each other before she says, "Are you getting in or are we going to stare at each other like this the entire day?"

"I don't mind the second option." I smirk.

"It wasn't an option..." She chuckles, "...get in Humphrey."

I do as requested. Once I'm sitting next to her I can feel my heart trying its best to escape from my chest but it calms down when she speaks again, giving the cab driver the address to the next destination.

"So do I now get to know where we're going?" I ask.

"Did you not just hear?" She asks sarcastically.

My eyes roll out of actual irritability and she probably senses it because she then says in a sigh, "If you must know, I need to go get my stationery for school and I didn't wanna go alone."

"So our first date is stationery shopping?" My eyebrows furrow as I chuckle.

"If you think this counts as our first date Humphrey then our second date will be nonexistent." She says through a straight face.

"I'm kidding." I let out a laugh as I put my arm around her shoulder to bring her into me.

"Was that your way of asking me out though?" She whispers with her cheek pressed against my chest.

My eyes look down to her, "If you think I'll ask you out like that, you're terribly mistaken."

Her baring teeth that formulates from a wholesome smile tells me all I need to know. I wonder if she realizes that in a few seconds we've both just indirectly said to each other that we want each other like that. The driver begins his route to the destination and Blair stays huddled up in my neck. The ride to the stationery store is mostly silent as I draw circles on her shoulder. It's crazy how comfortable we've become in a matter of just three days. I wish we could just stay like this forever but to my dismay the cab comes to a halt and we have to get out. As we step onto the concrete sidewalk she grabs my hand and guides us both into the store in front of us. I've never gotten butterflies whilst walking into a stationery store before but I guess there's a first for everything right? The first thing she grabs at is a trolley and then rolls it my way, giving me my first job of the day. She then pulls on the front of the trolley, guiding me and it to the pens and pencils' aisle.

"Okay Humphrey..." She commands as she stares over the vast selection of inks, "...it's a long year so I'm going to need at least 20 blue-ink pens, 20 black-ink pens and three of every color-ink pens."

"That's a gracious amount of pens." I chuckle.

"Rather have them and not need them than need them and not have them." She tells me as she starts throwing pens into the trolley.

She works quickly and within seconds all the necessary amount of writing tools are in the trolley. She then tugs on it again and pulls us to another aisle. This one is filled with marker pens. Here she doesn't even bother to say anything as she starts piling the markers up into the trolley. Soon enough that's done too and we march off to the next aisle which is racked with all the things needed for writing, from folio pads to notebooks. She takes a stack of 10 folio pads, 10 notebooks and 10 A3 poster pads. As we stride through the aisle for Blair to scope for other things, I see a little leather covered diary book and I have to have it. I pick it up and the most appealing part is the leather straps that's tied into a knot to keep the book closed. As I get a feel of it Blair looks my way.

"I had a feeling you might be the type to have a diary." She says with tease in her voice.

"I actually don't have a diary." I defend.

"So a new hobby then?"

"Nope." I chuckle.

"Wait...you draw don't you?"

"If stick figures and scribbles out of frustration counts as drawing then yes, I draw."

"Then what's it for?" She asks impatiently.

"I don't think someone has ever been this eager to know why I'm interested in buying a little diary." I chuckle.

"That's because most people are oblivious to all the secret thoughts and unpopular ideas that stem from diary entries, but I'm not most people. So tell me Humphrey, what are you planning on hiding behind those leather covers?" She smiles cheekily.

"It's nothing..." I smile nervously, "... it's stupid."

"Oh, I don't disagree with that analysis, but I'd still like to know." She quips.

"It's nothing, really."

"The more you say it's nothing the more I know it's very much something. You don't have to keep secrets from me Humphrey and since you say it's not for diary use, that vacancy entails you do still need something...or someone to tell all your thoughts, feelings and problems to."

"Why do you even wanna know so badly?" I laugh disbelievingly.

She moves from her position in front of the trolley and comes to me who's standing behind it. Her eyes suddenly dance with mine and it's like she's trying to read my mind. I'm not sure how but those brown sparkles evoke a deep sense of care that I've never experienced yet. She lays her hands flatly against my chest before she says,

"Because I wanna know you. I wanna know everything there is to know about you. Friday night I hardly slept and it had nothing to do with my parents divorce. You and I were strangers to each other and I hated it, because in just a few moments with you, you made me laugh, you made me smile, you made me nervous and you definitely made me feel like the only girl in your world. And even if that last part's not entirely true, the feeling alone is extremely addictive." Her eyes dart downwards now and I'm guessing she feels a little embarrassed for letting off so much. How could I not tell her what this little diary is for after hearing all that?

"Poetry."

She looks up again with furrowed eyebrows, "What?"

"That's the purpose of this book, it's for poetry."

"You write poems?"

"Mm-hmm." I nod my head.

"That's cute." She smiles warmly.

"You're cute." I return the warm smile.

"Now was that so difficult?"

"Was what so difficult?"

"Opening up to me."

"Sorry, some things just feel a little stupid to tell people. Especially writing."

"Well I love reading so don't ever feel ashamed about that around me okay?"

"Okay."

Secure. That's the simplest yet most profound way I could describe the way I'm feeling right now. Her hands tie behind my neck and she brings me in for an embrace that encompasses affirmation and assurance. It's almost as though it's her way of trying to cause cracks in the walls I have built up around my true self. But I'm sure as hell if things continue in this fashion I'll be telling this stranger my deepest secrets, my weirdest thoughts and even the passcodes to all my online profiles. She drops off her toes and onto her heels, bringing her hands to my chest again with her eyes fixated on mine. My heart is slamming against my chest and by the quick look down to her hand over it and the small smile that follows, I can tell she feels the slams. I can't help the smile of embarrassment that etches on my face. But instead of making fun of me, she runs her hands up my torso, onto my neck and across my jaw to stroke my cheek. This feeling is awfully familiar, but I'm making a promise to myself right now that if she licks her lips I'm not even going to hesitate to pelt myself forward. I'm aching to taste those lips. She then swallows a nervous lump as she brings her other hand to my other cheek and I'm ruing the limitations of that promise to myself. But her tongue does eventually make a slight slip over her bottom lip and I nearly hop out my skin to get down to her but just as my nose hits hers, the store's intercom goes off,

"The young couple in aisle 7 - don't even think about it." The voice of most likely an old lady beams through the entire store.

Our heads both drop against each other's and we can't help but laugh in embarrassment as the whole store now knows the young couple in aisle 7 were doing something that they probably shouldn't. At least we got a few eskimo kisses in, so I guess not all is lost. Blair pulls away and she scrunches her nose up at me as if to say: better luck next time. She then grabs on the trolley and hurries us both to the cashier.

"Come on, before the other customers come flocking to see who the PDA perpetrators are." She prompts.

As we get to the cashier my presumptions deem true as it is in fact an old lady who stopped us over the intercom. She doesn't look quite impressed by us but Blair's hardly fazed as she drops her items onto the cashier table faster than the lady can scan them. All her items get scanned eventually though but once the cashier asks if that's everything, Blair grabs my diary out my hand and plants it in the lady's hand and before I can even protest, the barcode is already beeped into the computer. Blair just sends a mischievous smile my way and then hands the lady a credit card to pay for everything. All the items are then put in two carrier bags and I insist on carrying them both. We walk out the store and the air outside is substantially warmer than it was earlier this morning. And this morning was hot. Blair puts her sunglasses back on as her curls bounce on her shoulders while the gentle wind plays at the ends of her yellow sundress. Be it glamorous evening parties, sulky café nights or blissful summer mornings, she somehow manages to grace through the nuance of every setting, always looking so effortlessly beautiful. We walk closer to the road so she can hail a cab.

"You didn't have to do that you know." I say.

"Do what?" She plays dumb.

"You know what."

"It was only 10 dollars Humphrey, it's not a big deal."

"Yeah, but do you really feel comfortable buying things for someone you hardly know?"

"I think that question was answered in aisle 7 already." She chuckles.

I just shake my head, "Thanks though, I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it." She semi-demands.

"So, where to now?"

"To a bookstore. I need to update my shelves."

Excitement courses through my veins and it's a futile task to try and conceal it, "So do I. I literally read everything I have at home."

"I was thinking of getting into another Fitzgerald book but I'm undecided."

"Talking about Fitzy, you actually spoiled The Great Gatsby for me you know."

"How so?"

"That whole spooky entrance of yours at the party where you told me Jay Gatsby found out how grotesque a rose is during his dying breath."

"Humphrey, the Great Gatsby was published in 1925. Literally everyone knows the ending before they've read the book." Her eyes roll.

"Fair enough, but I could've been the anomaly."

She places a hand on my shoulder and sighs, "You taking so long to actually read the book makes you enough of an anomaly as it stands, Humphrey."

I swear if anyone else were to tease me the way she does I would count it as definite bullying, but her voice is too small and tender for me to even take offense. I think I might just let her bully me for the rest of my life. Her hand leaves my shoulder and then waves for a cab. We then get into one and before long we're standing outside a vintage bookstore that looks like a place where witches and wizards come to mix potions together. As we step inside a bell above the door rings and our presence is made apparent. A man behind the cash register sends a bright smile our way and we return it. The store looks really cool with all the dark tones of wood, the little stairway that leads to an even smaller balcony where more books are piled up, and even the screeching floors that add to the aesthetic appeal of the place. Another thing that stands out is the fact that all the books are hardcovers. Blair and I walk slowly through the aisles as she scopes over the books. I try to focus my attention on the books around me but her attentive eyes that lay over each title are grabbing at me. Her lips pout in ponder as she chews her chin over several of the books, but after a few minutes her eyes light up as she grabs one of them off the shelf. I peep over to see the name of the book - Anna Karenina.

"That's deemed to be one of the best pieces of literature ever written." I comment.

"I know, and I've never even read it yet." She says.

"Mmm, and you say I'm an anomaly for not reading Gatsby."

"So you've read this already?" She turns to me.

"Of course, it's one of my favorites."

"Okay, I think I'll be taking it." She states, "Have you seen anything you like yet?"

"Yes, I think I have." My eyes point to her.

Her eyes roll, "I'm talking about the books."

"Oh..." I chuckle, "...I haven't really been looking."

"Well, get on with it Humphrey, we don't have all day."

She turns me around and pushes on my shoulders to guide me through the bookstore. Nothing seems to capture my attention because I continuously break the golden rule of being a reader as I literally judge all the books by their covers, but there is one book in a section that I never look through that grabs at my eyes. It's called The Motion of Light in Water by Samuel R. Delaney. It's an autobiography but it looks promising. I don't bother to read the first few pages to get a glimpse of what I might be reading because by the title alone I already feel like I'm going to enjoy this book very much. Blair looks at me with confused eyes because she herself has never seen nor heard of this book before. Nevertheless, we make our way to the guy behind the cash register and before Blair can swing out her credit card, I place the cash my dad gave me on the counter and luckily the cashier takes it quickly and within seconds I'm getting my change for the purchases. As we step out the bookstore I make a concerted effort not to look at Blair because I know her eyes are going to be stabbing through my body multiple times for doing what I just did.

"Thank you." She says softly but the words explode in my ears. That's the last thing I expected her to say.

"You're not mad?" I turn to look at her.

"Oh no, I am. Especially because you got mad at me for buying you that diary. But I guess my gratitude overpowers my anger today."

I let out a relieving breath that I didn't even know I was keeping in, "Well, I'm grateful for your gratitude."

"Oh, shut up." She says playfully as she brushes past me to hail for another cab.

"And the next destination is?"

"A restaurant. I'm starving."

We're finally settling into a restaurant of Blair's choice and it seems like for the first time today I actually get a real chance to take a good look at the magnitude of flawless perfection that is Ms.Waldorf. I've tried to find kinks in her to take myself out of the dizzy high she's put me in with her intelligence, beauty and humor, but by now I'm sure if those little things do ever appear, it'll only make my head spin even more. Today I found out how much ahead of the rest of the world she is. How she plans ten paces farther than any of us ever strive to. And I'm not talking about the ridiculous amounts of stationery she bought. As we stepped into the restaurant she ordered a table for 4 when we're clearly only two people, but once we got to the table she set the carrier bags on the vacant seats beside us. That was something so minute, so minuscule but it was something I didn't even think of nor take into account before we came to sit down. But she did. Even in the cab rides over to every different place she was ticking off little things in her little planner. Right now even, as we literally speak, she lays a napkin over her sundress, removes the rings from her fingers and takes off the bracelets from her wrists all because she's about to eat. She's so calculated and it's mesmerizing. Now it's not so difficult to understand why Jenny literally idolizes her. I mean, she's got every single thing figured out.

"You're doing it again." Her cheeks go red.

I snap out of it, "Doing what?"

"You're looking at me with those wildly intense eyes, Humphrey."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"How do you do that?"

"I'm not sure actually, my mind just drifts off and I'm not really aware that I start staring at things."

"So what's on your mind then?"

"You." I say without even thinking.

The response takes her by complete surprise as her cheeks are impossibly getting redder now. She swallows a lump before saying, "Oh." That's all she can manage.

"Don't worry, I won't go into much detail about my thoughts of you, unless you want me to of course." I joke.

"No it's not that, it's just..." She stutters her speech for the first time ever in front of me.

"It's just..?" I lower my voice.

"I've never felt so...so wanted before. It's relieving yet anxiety inducing all at the same time."

I'm the one who's taken by surprise now and I can't even get a word out to her. I don't think even in my wildest of dreams I've ever thought I'll make someone feel this way, let alone someone like Blair Cornelia Paige Waldorf. Yet here we are and she's saying these are things I'm doing. And it's in this split second that I realize how powerful feelings are. For if two people hold a strong affection for one another it's almost as though they're pumping boundless jolts of possibility into the other's lives. And with Blair, anything feels possible.

"Humphrey..." She groans at me.

"I'm sorry." I laugh.

"Do you know how you look at me when you're mind drifts off like that?"

"How do I look at you, Waldorf?"

"The way all girls want to be looked at."

I nearly fall into another speechless stare but then I remember I've heard those words before, "Okay, Fitzgerald." I joke.

She laughs ecstatically, "You so ruined that moment!"

"I had to, it was getting more intense than my stares."

As we laugh in what feels like eternal euphoria a ray of sunlight catches her eyes through a restaurant window and it creates a twinkle brighter than any star I've ever seen. Her smile beams so much light that it sends an everlasting joy into my heart and as her eyes close to stop the tears of her laughter, I fall back against my chair and I'm dumbstruck by how gorgeous she looks when she seems truly happy. I wonder if it's too early to feel a feeling I've never ever felt for a stranger who I've never ever known before 3 days ago. But like I say, with Blair anything feels possible. A waiter comes and interrupts the bliss to take our order. Blair takes a pasta and I order a steak. As we wait for our food, she tells me her plans for the academic year ahead, her high hopes, her strong ambitions and its just another fascination of herself that's she's etching onto my mind. The food finally comes and it's the first time today where there's a few moments of just pure silence between us. My guess is that we're both either extremely hungry or the food is just absolutely scrumptious. The latter seems more plausible. Soon enough we're done eating though and this time we split the cost of things between us.

We then step out of the restaurant and hail for the last cab of the day back to my Brooklyn loft, and somehow I conjure up the slightest bit of courage to grab on her hand and intertwine our fingers. Our fingers stay like that from the moment we step into a cab together all the way until we get to Brooklyn. Once we're outside the loft she lets go of my hand and my heart drops, but it settles again once I see that she's just stepping out of the cab. I get out too as she comes walking around the trunk of the car. She's standing almost against my chest now and she looks up at me with searching eyes. I know what she's looking for though and I don't hesitate to cup her cheeks. My thumbs play on the frames of her facial structure and our eyes waltz as every single feeling that today has conjured up comes flooding through me. I lower my head to meet her lips with mine and as her eyes shut in anticipation and mine shut in ecstasy, the voice of Rufus Humphrey travels agonizingly from across the street.

"Hey, son!"

Both mine and Blair's eyes shoot open and she's trying her hardest not to laugh, "Let's just pretend we never heard anything." I whisper desperately.

She takes my hands off of her face, "I'm not kissing you in front of your dad." She smiles in half-laughter.

"He's not my dad." I try again.

"Dan! Is that you?" My dad shouts again and my head literally drops.

"The world hates me doesn't it?" I say to Blair.

"Yes, yes it does." She laughs and then rises on her tippy toes to plant a kiss on my cheek.

I finally turn to my dad and he's got his usual annoying, fatherly smile on his face. He finally gets close enough for me to actually greet him.

"Hey, Dad."

"Ah, you're home an hour early. That's good." He looks at me and then his eyes dart to Blair next to me, "And who's this new friend of yours?"

Luckily Blair introduces herself, "Hi Mr.Humphrey, I'm Blair Waldorf." She puts her hand out.

"Oh, nice to meet you Blair." My dad says and I silently pray that that's the last words that escape his mouth.

It looks like my prayers may go unanswered but just as my dad is about to probably say something embarrassing, the cab driver honks his horn.

"Well I guess that's my cue." Blair says sheepishly, "It was nice meeting you Mr.Humphrey."

"Likewise, dear." My dad replies.

Blair then turns to me, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I'll see you tomorrow." I affirm.

She then climbs in the cab and I close the door behind her. Her window rolls down before she leaves though and she hands me my book and diary.

"Text me when you get home safely." I tell her.

"Yes, I will." She replies.

Once her cab's driven off I turn to my dad and try my best to keep my head from blowing off.

"Thanks, dad!" I say sarcastically.

"What?" He replies confusedly.

"You literally interrupted a moment when you came shouting at me from across the street."

His eyebrows furrow for a second, "Oh...oh. I'm so sorry son, I didn't even know you were standing with someone."

"No, that's a mistake that needs reparations, and a relief of one week from doing the dishes sounds fair enough to me." I try my luck.

"You'll be relieved of dishes duty for tonight only." He laughs as he puts his arm over my shoulders to guide us into the loft.

I don't protest his unfair labour practices though because that's more slack from him than I was expecting. Once we get into the loft I head straight to my room, drop the two books onto my bedside table and fall exhaustedly upon my bed. Who knew having fun would be so tiring? Probably every other normal teenager that has a stimulating social circle. As my eyes droop though my phone buzzes in my pocket. There's no way Blair's made it home that quickly has she? But it's not a message from Blair that has my phone buzzing.

Hey Upper East Siders. I know summer's coming to an end but I've just received the hottest news ever. According to Melanie91, our very own Serena Van Der Woodsen was spotted with bags in hand at Grand Central. Wasn't it just last year when our golden girl went missing for "boarding school"? And just when the summer was looking dryer than ever, she's back. Don't believe me? See for yourselves. Thanks for the photo Mel.

Xoxo, Gossip Girl.

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