Chapter Twenty-Four

Set You Free

You're trying to do the normal things
and I am throwing up dull pieces of truth onto our kitchen table.

I can't lie anymore.

These are the things I've done and they're mostly sad. These are the places I've been
and they're mostly awful. This life has woven itself into the notches of my spine
and I hear it creak every time I stand.

Serena was the one to wake up first.

Chuck was still in deep slumber, hovering somewhere between consciousness and the eternal dark, when Serena opened her green eyes. She stared at the world in wonder and the world stared back, even more stupefied. Superb recovery was worthy of an addonexus, breaking the rules and laws of modern medicine.

Had the world shifted since that crash? A crash that shook even the chess board of the Gods.

Was it fair? Blair couldn't tell.

Every nook and the corner of hospital became painfully familiar, just like her own home. Roots sprang from the tips of her soul and they broke the dull sanitary tiles, digging deep in the cold dirt. Frost penetrated her bones and settled there, refusing to go. Her restless nature subdued to serene surrender. The dice were rolling and had yet to stop.

Every line of Chuck's face imprinted in her memory, like a beautiful burning stamp on whites of the eyes. She traced his fixed features with her fingertips, learning the curves and dents, in case the numbers on the dice were not in her favor. The risk was there, along with Blair's determination to unveil the truth.

Evelyn grew paler every day, every hour, every second. Though doctor foresaw good outcome for her son, she looked sick and forlorn. The bags under her eyes were prominent and there was weakness about her frame suggesting fatigue and exhaustion. Did her motherly instinct sense something? Blair walked the halls, trying to come up for a solid reason to send her home to get some rest, when Nate caught up.

''Serena would like to see you,'' He shrugged apologetically, a glint in his eyes she hadn't seen for a long time. Nobody can hide those kind of glints, they burn despite the lack of kindling. Somehow, Blair resented it. She resented his mirth and luck. Nate got to hold the one he loved, and be held in return. She resented his small smile that lighted his face when he thought nobody was watching.

''I don't think that's a good idea,'' She brusquely answered, truth of Serena's misdeeds still ruthless in it's existence.

''Please,'' Nate implored, taking her hand.

She flinched from his touch, still repulsed by the notion he knew what Serena did and protected her. ''Fine,'' She heard herself say, tired and willing for a closure of this chapter. ''But I'm not promising I won't try to strangle her.''

Blair followed his tall figure to Van Der Woodsen room. Serena's green eyes widened at the sight of Blair. She offered a smile to waiting brunette, but it wasn't returned. Blair stared at her with indifference and poorly masked contempt. The silence was suffocating. Nate glance warily between them, wondering if he made a good choice by obeying Serena.

She really did look better. Cuts were still there along with bandage across her forehead, but the animation of body was visible in every movement.

''Chuck forgave me,'' Serena said with small voice, wringing her hands. ''Maybe...''

She inhaled deeply, looking up nervously. Her eyes were different, they were lowered at the corners, green mixed with remorse. Was it real? ''Just maybe, you could too?''

''No,'' Blair grew irritated by the mere abomination of request. It didn't matter if Serena repented or not. It wasn't just that she couldn't forgive her wrongdoings against herself, Blair couldn't forgive her the accident and putting Chuck in life-threatening danger. The line has been drawn and crossed, too many times.

''I hope you get better. That's the only decent thing I can say to you right now,'' Blair turned around and left, not being able to stand another minute within their presence.

Days went on. Earth rotated around it's core by the same speed as usual and spring crept up on Manhattan. Cherry trees blossomed, carrying the scent down the busy streets, saccharine rose petals delicately falling on heads of bustling New Yorkers.

Blair was half-asleep in Chuck's room, curled up on sofa like a cat. Curtains were set aside and sun caressed sleeping bodies, lulling one to sleep and other to wake. His body, though still and unmoving, provided odd mix of mellowness and bitterness. She often regarded him from distance, thinking about the future. She was past the point where Blair could think of future without Chuck. Determination and passion to keep him close scorched through her.

Would he want her back?

Serena said he forgave her. In all honesty, news struck Blair like a poisonous arrow. Did he think Blair didn't matter anymore? Did he finally get tired of her and rejoined his old friends, old lifestyle?

I'm done. I'm not running after you anymore.

Those were his words and they rang clear and sharp through the stuffy hospital air. She couldn't stop the dread and panic seizing her body. Would he care if she told him of her lies? What if he woke up, saw her and turned his cheek away? She couldn't take the rejection.

Purse and textbooks were thrown on the ground by her feet. Classes weren't the same without him around. Thinking about him when he wasn't there and anxiously fidgeting when he was - it was a chaos, a bittersweet chaos. She had just returned from class and overtook by exhaustion - fell into dreamless slumber.

That was her state when Chuck finally opened his eyes. There was no slow waking, no gentle rising. He sharply inhaled a breath, vividly recollecting a big piece of window glass impaling his stomach. Flash of pain seared through his abdomen and he clutched the sheets, muscles expanding and twitching. His legs kicked out to break free out of projected prison of smashed car. Trembling hands flew to the wound to pull out the shard, his mind tricking him he was bleeding.

His fingers ached with stiffness. There was no glass, but scratchy blanket covered his body. Still shaking, he lifted it up and saw an ugly hospital gown.

Chuck grit his teeth and his arms fell at the excruciating soreness. Even smallest movement required patience and exquisite effort. Panting, he dropped his head on pillow and looked around the room. Primary confusion and disorientation gradually subdued, though his wits were anything but sharpened.

The hospital suite was pristine, clinical - with ridiculous attempts at trying to make it look homely. With an amused smile, he recognized mother's dying cactus on windowsill. How could someone let cactus wilt away, he couldn't fathom. There was also Nate's gameboy on night table, along with Serena's lucky charm - earphones with two encrusted diamonds. Chuck got those for her 15th birthday. Even Arthur left a black limo figure, small enough to be a key chain. Except several magazines, theres was nothing else that indicated anyone ever came here.

Nothing that indicated Blair was here.

Car crash has not been a revelation. It didn't make him question his life choices or influence to give up vices. It didn't reborn him. Chuck Bass came face to face with Death and he laughed scornfully at it's shadowed face. What did the old fool think? That he would go pleading, begging? Chuck lived life at full speed and had every rich imaginable, rolling in luxury and wealth with friends. He didn't care if he lost it all.

He didn't care because one thing he actually wanted wasn't even his.

Chuck closed his eyes and turned head towards window, his smile turning to mask of gloom. Rays of sun fell on his cold cheek and he sought comfort in it's warmth. Of'course Blair didn't come. Why should she? Blair made it clear he wasn't wanted. She made it clear he was nothing but nuisance, someone to constantly pester her.

What did he expect anyway? That she would come running back just because he swirled a bit off the road?

Yes, he hoped she would. At least to say what an idiot he was.

An anguish and great deal of shame took over his body, pain far worse than all open wounds. Sins of his past still burned it their glory, refusing to be forgotten. Something rustled in the corner. He snapped his head, movement making him dizzy.

He eyed the pile of coats on the sofa distrustfully. It was spinning and view went out of focus for a second. Chuck rubbed his eyes and blinked hard as one of the coats fidgeted and slipped lower, revealing few locks of hair underneath. Sunshine fell on brown glossy mass and his heart began to pick up the pace as soft small snore came from under the coat.

Wait, that wasn't a pile of coats. There was something living, breathing, under there. Wincing, he scooted closer and his hand painfully stretched to tug at the coat. It was like thousand little needles pricked at his skin, but something urged to see who dared to pry on his moment of weakness. At last, he reached the coat and pulled - revealing Blair's peaceful face.

For some unknown reason, he immediately drew back. Chuck clutched at the sheets. It felt like five lifetimes passed since he last saw her like this - sanguine, contended. He gazed at her pouty lips, button nose and long eyelashes. Blair was here, in his room, by his bed. He took few more minutes to regard her in undisturbed silence, before he fidgeted with impatience.

''Blair,'' Chuck whispered, reaching his arm for her. He hissed, the movement evoking another wave of pain.

Fluttering her eyelids very slowly, Blair thought she finally began to dream. It was a good dream, one where Chuck woke up and called out for her. It usually ended up in nightmare; he'd accuse her of lies and she would feel floor beginning to burn. Flames would swallow her and she would scream, scream until she awoke panting, scream until pillow stifled her cries.

With sleepy grin on her face, she stretched her arm towards him too. She knew he would flinch away, as he always did in dreams, and embers would lick at her soles. Blair didn't care about the retribution, she focused on his touch and their fingers interlinked. Oddly enough, he didn't flinch.

Chuck regarded her with intensity that tugged at her heart. Whole dream felt too real and utopian at the same time. Was this a lucid dream? Bustle of the hospital and traffic outside broke the spell and she became aware of her surroundings.

''Won't you come to me?'' He asked with a disappointed, hoarse voice and she leaped up to her feet in surprise, coat falling on the floor with a soft thud.

''You're here,'' She choked out, not being able to hold the flood of emotion that assaulted her at the sound of his voice. She threw herself at him, burying head in the crook of his neck - her favorite spot. It was an impulse, an action that thought not of reaction, something akin to an instinct.

Blair felt scared of touching him for a long, long time - long before the crash happened. He didn't return the gesture. Small hiss escaped between his teeth and Blair quickly retreated, anxiously glancing towards his cuts.

''Did I hurt you?'' She wondered out loud, enraptured by the darkness of his eyes. She was suddenly overcome with heavy sadness. Did he even want her here, in his room? She didn't know. She didn't want to know yet and decided to postpone the dreadful answers as far as they could be postponed. They regarded each other in silence. With shaky voice she said, ''I'll go get the doctor.''

His hand arrested her wrists, like a shot of lightning pierces through stormy sky - brief, volatile matter. His eyes were filled with fervor that made hairs on her neck stand upright. ''Don't.''

Blair looked down at his fingers circling her pale skin. The iciness started to dissipate from her body and she could feel her blood boiling, burning, charging with the familiar electricity.

''Stay with me,'' He added after small pause, his voice barely audible. Outside on the street, car started, engine roaring to life. Birds chirped, their wings fluttering in flight. Time stopped, rolled back and sped up again. She felt her heart race at the alarm in his uncertain glance.

Chuck Bass was afraid. He wanted her back and he wasn't sure if she'd accept him. All her previous fears dissipated and she laughed in disbelief, relief flooding her body.

Chuck Bass was subsequently mortified by the mocking laugh. All of a sudden, he flung her wrist and sharply looked away. The world-stopping moment passed. His taut arms crossed across his broad chest, jaws clenching in irritation. ''Get out,'' His voice was like a venom.

She laughed once again at his spiteful assault, not bearing to contain her happiness. His harsh words went unheard. There was a chance for them after all. Chuck shot her murderous look, his upper lip curving. It only served to ignite her joy further. Blair began taking her flats off.

''What are you doing?'' He demanded warily, as she lifted up the sheet and lay next to him. The bed wasn't big enough for two and she had to press her body to his to prevent from falling down. Blair put her cheek on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. Finally, she felt safe. ''I told you to leave,'' He said with strangely thick voice, not daring to move an inch.

''I don't care what you say,'' She murmured against his skin on collarbone, warmth filling her chest. Blair pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, ''I'm never going to leave again.''

She held on him tighter, resolve to uncover the truth of her lies still solid and firm. Even if dice were against her, Blair would go down fighting. His mouth were dangerously close to hers, his breath deliciously falling on her neck in rapid pants. He gave no sign of surprise or shock, but she could feel his body relaxing and melting into her own. Few minutes passed before they spoke again and by that time, his hand managed to find hers under the sheets.

''Since you're staying, you might as well give me a sponge bath,'' Chuck smirked and her heart stopped for a second. She missed him more than she was willing to admit. Having him back was nothing but a bliss. His accident almost broke her and they were finally rewarded with reconciliation.

She chuckled, glad to see him back as he was. Chuck brushed hair from her face and very slowly, cupped her cheek. Blair's heart went into a frenzy with desire that'd been kept caged for far too long. The butterflies in stomach were finally set free as their mouth met in a light kiss.

His lips were chapped, rugged against her tender skin. She flicked her tongue across his bottom lip and low growl came from back of his throat. Blair was finally where she longed to be - in his embrace. He circled an arm around her waist, pressing her even closer - but the painful action evoked a wince. She pulled back and pressed her lips together, ''Sorry.''

Grimacing in vivid discomfort, he kissed her nose and they lay back- barely touching, gazing at each other. Blair kept drinking in his features, words, they way he breathed, the way he moved.

''I love you,'' he murmured seriously, running his thumb across her lower lip.

Somehow, Blair wasn't surprised or terrified. She wasn't shocked and it didn't make her turn back and run fast out the door. He said those three words with promise of another tomorrow. Blair felt assured that what she was about to do was only right. The truth of her lies was to be uncovered and she was resolved to do it.

Only, not now. When Chuck recovered, she was to tell him everything. When he gained strength and went back to normal life. Until then, Blair would stay by his side, aid him and nurse him to health. She owed him that much.

''I know,'' she replied, lightly biting his thumb.

''No,'' Chuck urged with slight desperation, that bizarre alarm back in his eyes. ''Say you love me too.''

''I love you too,'' she whispered, startled at the reaction. He sighed and nodded, burying his nose in her hair.

Doctors, physiologists, chiropractics, therapists... the list went on. Those were all people that occupied majority of Chuck's time. He was sick of their terrible dad jokes and latex gloves. The recovery was anything but pleasant. Thankfully, Sisters of Mercy was a private hospital with a specific audience in mind - people like Bass' of the world. Facility had everything, including a spa, and one didn't have to walk out the doors to get what one wanted.

Unless one was Chuck Bass and he really really wanted his girlfriend right now.

Taxi pulled up in front of the hospital and a small figure emerged, her silken skirt billowing behind. Smooth arms were bare, skin pale against dark cover of textbooks. Her doe-like eyes glanced at the hospital warily, but as if sensing his eyes on her, she glanced his way. Her smile was bright, but brief. Chuck knew by the small crease on her forehead and jutted lower lip, that he was in trouble. The notion was nothing short of arousing.

Blair strode towards him with precise, angry steps, her curls bouncing against the shoulders. ''Chuck Bass, explain yourself.''

''Good day to you too,'' He drawled, leaning back on the bench. The comfort of sweatpants was alien, strange, and they just felt wrong. He might as well be wearing pajamas, but then again, his pjs were pure silk - not cashmere cotton. ''How was your last day of freshman year? I have to say, I regret missing the skinny dipping at Central Park. One of my favorite Constance traditions.''

They didn't talk about Nate or Serena, there was mutual understanding between them. His best friend came for a visit, Serena for weekly session with chiropractor, and Blair tried everything not to cross paths with her. She couldn't stand the sight of her and during classes would only exchange few brief words with Nate. Nothing else, nothing more.

''Please tell me you didn't stand up Hannah?'' She berated, hands on her hips. He marveled at the flesh underneath, urge to dig his fingers in there kicking in.

He was distracted for a moment until sense of what she said sunk in.

''You're on a first name basis with my chiropractor?'' Chuck asked puzzled.

''Of'course I am,'' Blair scoffed, as if it was most obvious thing in the world. She flipped one of the notebooks open and shuffled the pages while trying to balance the rest of books. ''Great,'' She muttered, dotting down something. ''Next session will be in two weeks, instead of one because she's celebrating Ted's birthday then...''

''Who the hell is Ted?''

''Her ex husband - complete Wall Street moron. Hannah wants custody of their dog and I may or may not have suggested bribery. An expensive, yet thoughtful birthday gift cannot be proved as bribery on court-''

Chuck sighed and gently pulled her to sit next to him. With the other hand, he took her books and set them aside on the bench. She reached for her journal with his schedule, but he shut it closed. Chuck snaked his hand around her waist and pulled her closer, ignoring her sulking face. His body was almost healed and he could go through normal actions without wincing or his muscles cramping.

''I was thinking,'' Chuck divulged, settling his chin on her shoulder and taking advantage of the surprised silence. She smelled like roses and peonies and he found himself marveling in it. ''You've become so close to my family, Evelyn keeps nagging we have dinner together and it gave me an idea. You see, my father can stand to be in the same room with you for five minutes-''

''Wow,'' she rolled her eyes, though worry prickled at the back of her head. ''Thanks.''

''Which is more than I can say for any of my girlfriends.''

''For lack of a better word,'' she muttered, upper lip curled.

Chuck deeply inhaled, lost in the brief recollections of Blair's mother at the window of their home. ''You know who my friends are, my enemies even better. So I've been thinking. I want to get to know you.''

''You already know me silly,'' She forced a small giggle as the worry increased with an alarming rate.

''I want to get to know your family. Your other friends. That Georgina that you used to mention. I want to meet them. What does your room look like? You underwear drawer? I want to know everything about you.''

Blair's heart stopped and she turned her head away from him. How is she to tell him her room is smaller than his jacuzzi tub in bathroom? How is she to tell him Georgina used to be her best friend until she became obsessed with him? How is she to tell him her brother stole and wrecked his car? How is she to tell him that the family he mentions with distaste and mild contempt is her very own family, repaying the debt?

The time had come. She couldn't postpone this any further. The recovery took weeks, the classes finished and she almost enjoyed herself helping him in the process, forgetting dice were still rolling.

''We can talk about it when you get dismissed,'' She elegantly dodged questions, taking one of his hands into her own, secretly searching comfort of his touch.

She could feel his devilish smile as he kissed her lips. ''Deal. How about dinner tonight, my place?''

The shock, excitement and alarm all blended into one and she jumped up, staring at him with wild eyes. ''You got dismissed?'' She stammered, trying to recollect herself. ''Who approved that? Was it that German hippie Dr. Schmidt?''

Chuck chuckled at her reaction and got up too, getting so close that he towered over her. ''Don't worry, I won't bite. Unless you beg me to and, believe me, I can make you beg.''

Blush played around at the base of her neck. Something in her guts pleasantly stirred at the notion, but fear overshadowed all positive feelings. Don't chicken out, she mentally chanted. Don't chicken out.

''Okay,'' She heard herself say bravely, as her heart beat rapidly, fueling the anxiety. ''When are you picking me up?''

This was it.

He looked at her dubiously. ''That's it?''

She watched him drop back on the bench and mutter something under his breath.

''What's wrong?''

''What's wrong?'' He scoffs, glaring. ''I skip my session to meet you here,'' He gestures at the bench, and there, up on the highest board is engraved writing in cursive, brushed over with golden paint; C&B.

Breathless, she stared at the letters. Blair opened her mouth to say something, but he quickly cut her off.

''Where we once sat together,'' He went on with the rant, ''And we talked and I put my blazer on you. I prepared five thousand words essay about why you should come because I know you have overprotective parents, I've often envied you. I wanted you to know how much it would mean to me; and you just say okay?''

His gaze, though playful, was piercing and she had to suppress a shiver.

''Who are you?'' He asked, genuine wonder displayed in his eyes.

Blair sighed, ignoring the ever growing horror in her chest, and sat on his lap, ''Let's try this again, shall we?''

He glanced at her with cautious face as she put her arms around his neck. ''Basshole, I would rather die than do anything remotely fun with you. You despicable bow-wearing creature, I hate you with fires of thousand suns-.''

Chuck smirked, very much satisfied at the position they were in and he leaned in to shut her up with a kiss, a best way to make someone stop talking.

Blair lifted up the wooden spoon and blew on the narrow rising smoke as it wisped around, spreading delicious tangy scent. The small pink of his lips closed around thick red Napoli goodness. She stared as he swallowed and licked his upper lip to get the rest of condiment. It was a real treat to see Chuck Bass restored to his original glory; smirking and oozing sex-appeal.

''Well?'' Blair piqued at his silence and ate the remaining sauce on the spoon to double-check. Chuck remained quiet, rolling his tongue around, his brows knotted. ''Do you like it?''

He seemed to snap out of the revelry, ''It's delicious. I just didn't know that stove could work. I'm amazed, I thought the whole kitchen was simply for display.''

Blair gave him an exasperated sidelong glance and stirred the pot, shutting down the heat.

''I still can't believe you sneaked out of house,'' He winked, leaning down on the counter with elbows, looking at her under thick set of eyelashes. ''It's kind of hot.''

''Also kind of suicidal,'' She muttered, setting down the spoon. The universe seemed to be aligned tonight, but retreated back to the darkness - waiting, watching. The hands on the clock were set and in motion, ticking down to strike the fated hour. The cuckoo won't come out the sing, instead it will remain hidden in it's closed nest. One can't escape time, no matter how much they tried.

Dan had gotten a girlfriend. Blair figured as much by the love-sick puppy eyes he got and, more obviously, late night escapades. He though Blair should be sleeping, tucked safely in bed. He thought wrong. Their parents left for the country, under suspicious circumstances - hiding their true reasons, pretending it was some dispute regarding the land they didn't own anymore. Blair wasn't fooled - something was happening. It was once in a lifetime slip-up and she wasn't fool enough to let it pass.

''You never actually said how the accident happened,'' Blair casually took a sip of red wine. Earlier before, Chuck proudly presented her with the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, a bottle that Bart kept hidden and under lock. She was sure his father would kill him when he found out.

''I've said it all in police report,'' Chuck replied just as airily.

He didn't want her to know that Serena took the blame for that fiasco with Blair's and Nate's published pictures, while he was driving her back home. Serena's hysterical tears dropped on leather seat and he remembered disbelief - rage, hurt - hurt because he felt sorry for her, hurt because he wanted her back in Manhattan, with him and Nate. Flash of anger seized him like blinding storm and he couldn't stop the venomous words rolling off his tongue. It was only in last moment when he saw a truck speeding towards them and he steered wheel-drive, landing them in a deep ditch.

''Just that?'' His girlfriend, too smart for hew own good, prodded. ''You lost control of the vehicle?''

Chuck exhaled deeply, wanting to forget that night and everything before that. At least everything that didn't include Blair.

''Do you know what we're doing, Blair?'' Chuck asked huskily, wrapping his arms around her waist. His breath was warm on her cheek. Healed pooled at the bottom of her stomach and she thought of many different way to release it.

''What?'' Her breath was short and thick with fever. Her toes curled as he spoke, forearm muscles taut on valley above her navel.

''Normal couple stuff,'' He murmured against her ear and millions of microscopical shivers ran through her body at his slightest touch. The thought bothered her slightly, it left her feeling like an empty canvas and she wanted war paintings on herself, she wanted the discord of yellow and green, bright and dark, dull and vivacious. The last bell rang, knocking down her house of cards and the letter in her pocket burned - singing her skin, reminding her this was the last stand. This was the last riot.

The confession was written and all it needed was to be delivered. ''We usually don't do that.''

Tempo had been slow for far too long, the tectonic plates clashed and rifted with impatience. The chemistry that set the stars on fire almost went cold and Blair felt herself flaring up with the last burst of energy. Shifting of the skin was silent, but palpable and she could see the edges of new Blair forming, tearing the seams and emerging with the moves of a tempest.

The enticing vixen had always been there - confined, caged and subdued. Blair opened her eyes and pushed her hips against him, shoving him out of the way. Surprised grunt hitched somewhere at the back of his throat and she grabbed two plates, not concealing a smirk of her own.

''Don't forget the salad,'' She called out to his stunned face, relishing at it with strange kind of victory, and walked towards dining room - not forgetting to swing her hips. It took Chuck several moments to join her.

They sat and ate in piece, all the while she took coveted pleasure in teasing him, pulling his strings and tearing his camouflage. An appetite to make Chuck Bass wild clawed at her and she wanted to taste the reputation he gained. She wanted to unleash him, see him raw and out of control.

''Do you like it?'' She asked with sweetest of the voices. Under the table, her foot slipped from within the flat and she gingerly rubbed his calf.

Chuck almost dropped his fork. He cleared his throat and looked up with raised brow,. ''What?''

''Your pasta?'' She said innocently, pushing the spaghetti around her plate. ''Do you like it?''

Chuck gripped the edges of the table as her foot went up, reaching the bend of his knee. ''I - um,'' He stammered, inhaling sharply as she reached his inner thigh. ''It's exquisite.''

''How about some desert?'' Blair proposed, getting up and striding across the table while holding his gaze. His eyes were dark and hungry, and she knew just the recipe.

''What's on the menu?'' He whispered huskily and she sat on his lap. The erection was visible under his tweed pants and her mouth salivated at the sight of it. She felt powerful, she felt - desired.

''Me,'' She purred, dipping down her lips against his. He tasted like mint and napoli sauce, sharp and piquant. His tongue demanded entrance - and she let him, unable to resist - the pulsating need for him reaching the brink and brimming over the edge. His broad hands squeezed her waist, fell down lower to thighs and pushed one of her legs to straddle him. Blair pressed herself closer to him, sensationally cognizant of his strong musk, thick locks of hair and pulsing manhood rubbing against most sensitive spot of hers.

This could possibly be their last night and she wanted to make it count. She decided to leave him the letter in the morning, before he woke up and let the dice fall as they may. That's why she found herself eagerly nodding when he asked, breathless and panting ''Are you sure?''

Legs locked around his waist, Chuck carried them both to his bedroom. He lowered her down on the silken sheets - they were same since her last night here - but everything else was different. The room was almost unrecognizable, but those sheets would always have bittersweet taste in her memory.

''Take your dress off,'' He murmured, still standing, looking down on her as he unbuttoned his shirt. He had a lean, but nicely sculptured body underneath. It was a body of a man - an able hunter - and she felt small and silly under his intense gaze. She fumbled around the hem, suddenly insecure and afraid. The tempest was nowhere in sight and she could feel courage starting to dissipate. The letter in her pocket howled with written words, but only she could hear them.

''I've never done this before,'' She croaked as the bed sank under his weight. He paused, hovering over her like a predatory animal.

''Me neither,'' He shrugged, lightly kissing her neck and tracing the line of her spine with his fingertips.

Nervous laughter bubbled somewhere in her chest at the joke and it erupted, mixing with his own peculiar chuckle. ''You're heinous.''

It wasn't a predator. It was Chuck, her Chuck and she had nothing to be afraid of. Laughter died out and she felt visibly relaxed, even as his hand slid under the hem of her dress, resting on her thigh.

''Do you trust me?'' He asked, poised above her. She stared right back at him. His eyes, so dark and warm, made love to her and tonight, she wanted to feel that love. She wanted to bask in it, to bathe in it, to drink it from his lips.

She trusted him. She had known him better than she knew herself and denying the fact would be denying what they had. And what they had was nothing laughable, nothing to be afraid of. What they had was electric, vibrant and felt like home.

''Yes,'' Blair sighed, mildly digging her nails into his scalp.

''Good,'' One terse word and her dress was off, chucked down somewhere on the floor. The air was musky, fragrant, traces of saccharine summer's heat lingered in air and on their skin. She was left in her underwear and his lavishing attention made her feel like goddess.

''You're beautiful,'' Chuck whispered as he kissed skin under her navel and she writhed under his burning touch, the heat turning almost painful. Anxious for a release and that single act that will finally bind their souls into one - Blair realized the tempest was always herself, not some other Blair - there was no other Blair. There never was, their love had always been genuine, no matter what, and this boost of confidence was all she had been waiting.

His fingers were skilled and rapturous as they slid inside of her and she moaned - louder and louder as he gained speed and curled them - thinking if heaven felt like, this was bound to be it. Their eyes met, clashed like stars, always and forever, seeking each other in hunger and darkness. When they were finally rid of all clothes and she could feel every small prickle of his skin on hers, every brush, every caress - she knew whatever was to happen after this - it would never make her feel ashamed or inferior. Because in this barren, unsheltered moment, they were like one and she couldn't tell where she ended and he began.

It hurt, everything hurt, from his weight on her to the tearing in center, but she held the tears at bay as he murmured ''I love you,'' Over and over again - a chanting - a promise with each sloppy kiss and squeeze of thighs. Her fingers dug deep into his skin on his back, forming small crescents, a brief scar etched by her and she found comfort in it, found comfort in the fact that she can bruise him as easily as he could bruise her, that she can scar him as easily as he can scar her.

When it was done, she felt she was made of ambrosia and that ecstatic bliss in herself what nebula was made of - an explosion of light in infinite darkness, pleasure beyond any other and his arms were tensely holding her in case she fell apart and drifted off into the galaxies where her home was.

As if that wasn't enough, as if someone said she was to be rewarded before punished, Blair watched Chuck come undone - lose complete cool and control - and she opened her eyes wide, drinking in the way his body thrust into her - like an animal - faster, faster until he growled with exquisite effort - and the violent tremor of his body on her, pressing her closer as their hips ground - the ultimate friction that created sparks of Olympus.

He collapsed on her, their sweat mixing and their bodies slippery and all that needed to be said was already told in movement of their figures, the way their legs interlocked, the way her hair sprawled across his heaving chest.

Blair finally felt fulfilled - the missing part of the puzzle felt into place and life made sense again. She felt hungry and contented at the same time, and fell asleep in his broad arms - sweetest of slumbers there ever was.

In the morning, just as the sun peaked over Manhattan skyline, ignoring the red stain on sheets, she silently dressed up, made pancakes and left them on the kitchen table with note that would make Mr. Darcy roll his eyes. She kissed his forehead and he moved, slinging his arm over the cold side of her bed, lightly snoring.

She smiled at his sleeping form, forgetting about the primary quest and letter with burning words. Confession left sealed, she quietly left the Bass penthouse, muscles aching and head full of fireworks. The letter itself slipped out of pocket of her dress last night and lay hidden under darkness of his bed - awaiting it's moment to be opened and shift the rotation of the Earth.

Dice were cast.

A/N: We're there people... Just writing this makes my guts churn. So grab a blanket, hide under it and scream into the pillow like I do at every end of the chapter. :)