A/N: This is a little short but I'm just trying to update regularily (consider it short and sweet) a bit of a glimpse into somewhat of the next 2ish chapters. Let me know what you think, review please! I want to thank everyone that's been reviewing me so far. You guys are fantastic (you know who you are :D) and I wouldn't be continuing with this if it weren't for you.
Beaux Commencements.
(Beautiful Beginnings)
I'm falling, falling for you
My feelings are getting stronger
So why don't you stay here with me for a little longer?
- Imogen heap
Through the oval window of the Bass jet Paris was a switchboard of beauty beneath them. The soft edges of the city pressed down by the rising sun, a projection of magnificent colour on every surface the milky rays of light touched.
She pulled the brim of her hat downward, guarding the Chanel luggage as Chuck bartered with (and eventually convinced) an off duty limo driver to escort them into the city. He sauntered over, gesturing her towards the sleek black car. She yawned, covering her mouth with a laced hand, the wide-rimmed Dior sunglasses sliding down her pale nose.
They slid into the backseat together, a rush of jet-leg and champagne. She rested her head against Chuck's shoulder as the car weaved through early morning traffic, the glittering skyline piercing her thoughts. She had slept seldom on the flight and although it was ten in the morning there it was little past four in the morning in New York.
"Tired?" Chuck asked, his gaze locked on the passing buildings, the beauty of a foreign country.
She shook her head, eyelids heavy with the promise of sleep, "Just a little."
He had refused to tell her where they were staying, murmuring something earlier about a surprise. She was too preoccupied with lethargy to stir up the exact words spoken but she was torn between worry and excitement to an unusual extent. The mysteries her lover would introduce her to with a sly grin.
She managed to fight the call of rest as far as a quaint little bistro nestled somewhere in the city when she fell into a dreamless sleep. She woke momentarily only when Chuck draped her hands around his shoulders and lifted her into his arms, carrying her (she assumed) into their hotel room.
When she rolled over, sunlight streaming through glass, Blair groaned and reached towards her beside table. Her fingers searched frantically for the stupid alarm clock that had been buzzing obnoxiously for the last minute. She wasn't going to school today either, Dorota could just yell at her in Polish until she lost her voice!
"Blair," Chuck murmured in her ear, "Wake up."
Every muscle in her body clenched, waiting for the moment of realization to wash over her. As slowly as the films dissolved, fresh memories fell back into place. The long flight, the darkness of the hotel room when she'd woken in the middle of the night, the angle of the light as it hit the canary coloured walls.
She nuzzled into his bare chest, breathing him in, it felt like ages since she'd been in his embrace. Chuck pulled her close, his hand on her hip, hair mused from hours beneath silk bed sheets. She was still in her McCartney dress, the black hat she'd worn on the flight splayed on the table across the bedroom.
"Bonjour," She cleared her throat, "Mon amont." This spurred trip was after all, the perfect opportunity to dust off her sharp edged French.
There was no school to avoid or hollow embarrassments to forget. She laughed, falling back onto the pillows with a dreamy sigh. She was free.
She stood up, brushing lint off her dress as she danced through the room, stopping in front of the glass wall. Her brown eyes widened in disbelief at the view, they must have been on the second story of an estate because the backyard boasted first-class snooping into the intricate designs of the Eiffel tower, separated only by the seine. It was lovely and so close that she could almost reach out and touch it.
"Oh Chuck, it's absolutely gorgeous!" She squealed.
He dropped a hand to the small of her back, his tongue flicking at her earlobe with his tongue.
She twirled, meeting his gaze with a frenzied kiss, "thank-you."
He smirked in response, his hand travelling down her thigh and towards her calves.
In a matter of seconds, Blair's legs were wrapped tightly around his hips, hot breath on the curve of her neck as she slid down his pants. He pressed her back against the cool glass, her hands knotted in his hair. And, as he entered her, swallowing her cries, she realized that this was home, wherever he was.
His hands curved around her collarbone, making love as they did in the belly of the city, twilight clouds drifting above and into distances neither of them could imagine.