Long, slender fingers twiddle and writhe as she remains lost in thought; transfixed momentarily on the words that leave her dark-haired companion. It wasn't long ago that skepticism would have risen within her had anyone even insinuated that Chuck Bass could love anyone; that he could have a heart. Navy eyes blink away the remnants of fallen tears; shed in the honor of Dan Humphrey. She swallows, trying to erase the huge lump that has formed within her throat. She nods - hearing, but not listening. "But I loved him," she replies feebly, biting down on her tongue before she says anything further.

She always receives such skepticism when she admits to loving him;
what is so wrong with loving someone from Brooklyn?

His dark eyes narrow, brows furrowing together for a moment as he studies her. Silhouetted in the moonlight, her hair is illuminated in a pallid golden hue – radiating like a halo, the sign of angels. Though he knows Serena is hardly an angel, he cannot help but admire her; she has not let go of love when it's true – which is more than he can say for Blair. Lips purse, trying to find something to say. Finally, he submits; subjecting himself to agree with a notion he disliked. "I know." Shifting his weight, he leans back against the frame of the open window – the pane is killing his tailbone, but he doesn't wish to impede upon Serena's space – her moonlit dance floor. "But – sometimes," he begins, trying to justify the means, "sometimes love isn't always what we think it will be, Serena. Sometimes love – well, sometimes it'll just knock us down. You and I – we're not the types of people to fall in love and settle down, especially so young." He chuckles softly. Though her reputation did not exceed his, Serena was notorious for partying, way back in the day – before she moved away, before she met Dan. Hand extends to reach out, caressing the skin on her cheek – perhaps more delicately than he intends (or does he wish to sway her mind – to end his loneliness?). He watches her, hint of a smile trickling across his features. "Come on, S, what's that saying from that stupid show you girls all love, Grey's something? No man defines who you are…?"

Smile appears, fleetingly, across her features as she looks into his eyes. "You watch Grey's Anatomy, Chuck? Good God, what has Blair done to you?" she asks; her tone teasing, light-hearted. It is the first genuine smile she has bestowed upon anyone for as long as she can remember; not forced, not fake. Shaking her head, she continues to chuckle deep in her throat as she glances away from him, casting her gaze to the sea. "You know what we need?" she asks suddenly, glancing back to him. Her eyes sparkle with delight – amusement like what which she possessed as a young teenager. Reaching out, she grabs onto his hand and she tugs upon it, standing upright. "Come on," she begs him, giggling now.

"S, shut up, you're going to wake your mom and Rufus," he chides, but he stands up nonetheless. Begrudgingly, he permits her to lead him onto the roof, though questions dance across his face. "What are you doing?" he asks, brow arching as he delivers a skeptical look in her direction.

But he vows he will follow her – he knows he cannot drown in his sorrows forever.

Blonde hair dances against her shoulders as she perches on the edge of the rooftop, beaming. "Jump," she says to him before she squeezes his hand. "At the count of three, jump!" She braces herself, ignoring the bewildered look upon his face. Eyes pinch shut, hand tightening over his before she begins to count. "One… two…"

She yells the word 'three' a bit louder than he hoped, but he feels the world shifting as he follows her lead, leaping limitlessly from the rooftop. With a gentle thud, they both land upon the dune beneath her window and he finds himself smiling as Serena laughs. Her laugh, so genuine – so happy… it sets him at ease. Brow quirks as he watches her, standing up to brush the sand from his knees. "You really just had me jump off the roof," he observes casually, shaking sand from his hair. "Now what, brilliant one? You don't have your key, I'm guessing, and neither do I."

Interrupting any further words that may flee from his lips, she leaps to her feet and, ignoring the sand that clings to her body, she takes his hand once more. "We need to have fun," she says, "so I'm glad we forgot keys. Let's go!"

Releasing his hand, she turns – fleeing from him. He watches a moment, captivated as she begins her dance again, dancing over the dunes, giggling and singing (her own version of something by Britney Spears, he's not caring enough to pay heed); beautiful, elegant.

Forgotten is Blair, for the moment, as he follows her – slowly walking over the dunes, eyes never leaving Serena's pirouetting frame.