So the finale was equal parts heartbreaking and satisfying. And this is my take on how it would end if it was a perfect world. Skipped over the cliffhanger pregnancy scare though. Because it's too crazy to speculate about and my last prompt was baby centric.

Prompt 5

Stuck

She would kill him if she could. If there wasn't a camera staring down both of them this very second she'd wrap her manicured fingers around his neck and squeeze. Because he deserves it, but also because that smirk stopped being endearing five years ago. She wants a real smile now.

She blinks, tries to concentrate. Because she's stuck in an elevator with her recently regained nemesis and Serena is barking some sort of instruction. Her voice is abstract as it comes through the speaker, full of static instead of its usual charming qualities. And without hesitation Blair adds her best friend to her hit list as well.

She eases off her heels as Chuck turns angrily towards the camera and accuses, "Don't you think you're being a little overdramatic?"

Serena's retort is filled with amusement and in her head Blair can see the scene perfectly. A beaming but serious blonde facing an equally stern and beautiful brunette boy as they watch their victims through a corner camera. She winces at the inevitability of the answer, "Not so fun being on the other side of the doors is it?"

Of course Blair remembers being in a familiar situation with her best friend only a few years ago. Because she's the kind of girl who holds a grudge. Who fights publically and without mercy. And who's most brutal to her friends, the people she claims to love. She's a schemer and formerly proud of it. And that's why she's in this elevator. Again. Because she deserves any punishment she gets.

Nate, as usual these days, is the voice of reason and his tone is clear and firm as he takes over instructions. "You two need to get it together," he clarifies, "We're sick of playing mediators. So you're not getting off this elevator until you make peace. No treaties, no clauses, no bullshit. Just talk to each other and figure it out."

Blair sighs and leans her head back against the wall. They'd been arguing in the middle of a reception for her mother's spring line. She could hardly remember about what, even though it had only been a few minutes ago. Their fights were really only ever about one thing.

Her bare feet dig into the carpet as she slides down the wall. There is no more anger, no more struggle. There are so many things she'll never understand. And one, the most important, is why it all ends up coming back to him.

They sit there for an hour, silent and staring. His jacket lies in a neatly folded pile next to her heels. He watches her with lidded eyes. Hers are shut, because in such a small space there are only so many places you can look. And right now she can't bear to see his face.

Finally she can't help it. Can't stand it a second longer and the words slip out like an exhale. "We're so young," she whispers. And feels like it's to herself, but of course it's for him too, "But I feel so old. So old, and so tired."

His hair is messy because his hands are restless and he doesn't have the words to deal with her right now. Because technically he's only been allowed to purchase alcohol for a few months, but he's wanted to spend the rest of his life with her since he was seventeen. And he doesn't know how, he doesn't know why, he only knows that it's true. That she is the light at the end of the tunnel. The breath of fresh air. And all the rest of the sentimental garbage he never thought he'd believe in.

So he stares at her blankly and waits for more. Because she always has more. And she doesn't disappoint when finally she adds scathingly, "Just because I'm not with him doesn't mean I should be with you."

He has something to say about that. About her broken engagement and all that it implied. Because she'd swept back into his life like nothing had changed. Not a word about her jilted prince or her broken dreams of royalty. Only a flash of a ruby red smile and a quip to go with her black coffee after a three month absence. Her diamond nowhere in sight. Not that he minded. But not knowing why was driving him insane.

His voice is hollow and dry but he manages to get the question out. And he can only pray to get an answer he likes, "I let you go. Why did you come back?"

God if she knew. If she could explain in words why every second she was away she had felt the distance like a physical weight. How even though they were thousands of miles apart she could still feel his presence as if he was standing right next to her. And why, most of the time, she had wished he was.

She hated him. Hated his indifference. The calculated way he pretended not to care. And of course the moments when the façade dropped, but always just a heartbeat too late. He played games she could never win. But she was always in love with him. No matter what. For better or worse. Hopelessly, perpetually in love with him. And she resented it, fought it, but it was always there. And denying it was just as tiring as living with it.

And between the rock and hard place she would always choose him. His darkness and latent lightness. Because that she understood. She could handle mood swings and evil plans, because that was what she herself was built for. How she was raised and how she had lived.

She had tried to make her fairy tale a reality. Had forced herself to feel at ease around Louie's cheerful relatives and kind advisors. But it wasn't the kingdom she was used to, and she felt it in every bit of her body. The pain and longing of a leader displaced. The ache of a glass slipper that didn't quite fit. She may be a princess, maybe even a queen. But she wasn't his queen. And it had been a harsh truth she had been forced to face. Because she was cruel, but not so much that she was willing to let a good man fall even more in love her. Just so she could pretend for a few more weeks that her life hadn't been decided four years ago in the backseat of a speeding limo. That she didn't close her eyes and know completely that this wasn't where she belonged.

She tilts her head and stares at him. Her eyes calculatingly blank. She couldn't deny that she'd fallen even more in love with him when he'd released her. Told her to go and be happy. And she had tried. But happy isn't the same as content. As satisfied and sure and inevitable. And it was so frustrating to know how the story was going to end before she was even halfway through it. But she did. Felt the certainty like the pulse under her skin.

"I want to stop loving you," she confesses, trying to memorize the exact shade of his eyes right before they break from hers in annoyance, "I try so hard. But it's always there."

"So what do you want me to do Blair," his voice is desperate, his face drawn tight. He's a boy confessing to butterflies, to liking her in a way he shouldn't. A man holding flowers and macaroons and stockings confessing to love he's felt since he'd first watched her dance for him on a dimly lit stage. He is stuck too. And she realizes for the first time he'd never asked for this either. They were partners in crime. And both had stepped off the ledge and took the plunge before they knew any better.

His eyes are bright as he continues, "How can I fix it?" Because that's all he's ever wanted. To make her better. He's never known how to heal himself, but he'd give up everything to mend the part of her that's broken. That had been shattering long before they'd ever even met.

She looks at him angrily and he's forced to admit his oversights. How many times he's had a hand in her broken hearts. And he sees the memories she can forgive but never forget reflected in her eyes. He'd been the better man one night. But the enemy on countless other occasions.

"You can't," she snaps petulantly. But after a moment she softens, looks up at the ceiling, "There's nothing to be done. I'm hopeless."

Doomed is a harsher way to put it he thinks. Doomed as much to him as he is to her. And he's sorry for it. But also a little glad. He's never experienced unconditional love before, and he's so lucky that she's stuck with him. Because he hadn't known how he was going to bear watching her get married on television.

"I try," he pleads, more to justify it to himself then to her, "I want to be better for you. I hope you know that. That I wish I came close to deserving you. To being the man you need. That if you let me I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it all up to you."

She closes her eyes, because he's all about promises but never action. And she's sick of watching him fall short. She decides to let him off the hook, "It's not all your fault. I let all of it happen to me. I step into your darkness because it's easier then dragging you out."

But she's not paying attention. She's missed the direction he's headed, her fate hurtling towards another ending and a new beginning once again. He smiles and requests, "So stop. And let's find balance together. A compromise we can both live with. Because you're right, we're young. But I want to grow up with you and I want to grow old with you. I don't want to spend my life figuring out how to live without you when I could be learning how to live with you."

And the ring gets thrown into her lap while her eyes are still looking anywhere but him. But Serena's, "Whoa," over the intercom pretty much sums it up. She forgets to breath. And her heart begins to lose its rhythm.

"I can't promise it will be easy. That we won't fight or hurt each other or even hate each other. But I love you and that is one thing I can promise you will never change," he can't say the question. It won't come out of his mouth. He's practiced it in his head over and over a million different ways at a million different times. But now, as her eyes jump from him to the ring rapid fire, he can't help but plead with her to meet him half way. To complete him and compliment him as she's been doing since the very beginning.

And she can't think. Can't form a single, coherent thought. Because she knows she should say no. That she would be crazy to bind herself to a man she fantasizes about killing. Who she hates almost as much as she loves.

But there is only one answer she's ever had for that proposal. One word she'll ever say. And it was decided a million years ago, between a boy and a girl who knew better, but gave in anyway.

She slips the ring on her finger and it fits perfectly.

"Yes."

Thanks to QueenBee10, LowerCase32, TriGemini, pty, AquarianAir, Comet Tail, MrChuck, 88Mary88, Temp02, and lisottina81. Your reviews make me smile.