Disclaimer: I own nothing, obviously.
A/N: The title is from one of my favorite songs. "I'll Be Seeing You" by Billie Holiday. I suggest you listen to it while reading this. I wrote this listening to it on repeat. Ha. Enjoy and please, please review. It's my fuel. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time. I can't even explain how amazing you guys are. :]
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I'll Be Seeing You
Blair stepped into the shower's cascade, letting the warm water descend down her skin. Her time in the shower was for herself and herself only. It was the only time when she could reflect on her life in complete solitude. There were no distractions, just the steady stream of water upon her body and the soft hum of the bathroom heater. Occasionally she'd play some music, always jazz. Billie and Ella never failed to take her to a different time, away from her UES troubles.
Tonight though, she preferred silence.
The water was hot, almost blistering against her chest. It soaks into her skin and her fingers become wrinkled and creased. Her hair is slick against her back and little droplets rest on her eyelashes as she closes them. She raises her face to the ceiling and turns her neck in a slow circle. Her heartbeat sounds in her ears like a rhythmic drum. Her eyes are still closed as she reaches to trace her clavicle.
She imagines that it's him touching her. His hands, soft and gentle trace along her waist, down her hips and up across her breasts. He'd stand behind her and kiss her neck, nip at her earlobe and whisper the endearments he kept for moments like these.
It's his birthday today. May 19, 2009. He's 18 years old, no longer a little boy. He's officially a man now, but he's always been that way to her. She wished she were by his side celebrating not only another year but also his acquisition of Bass Industries. If they were a couple, if he was hers and she was his, she'd hold his hand as he guided her through the crowd. She'd be all smiles and formal greetings. And then, at the end of the night, when everybody had all gone home, he'd walk her to his room, he'd proclaim his undying love for her and they'd make love until the sun came up.
Her heart fell to her stomach as she realizes none of this will ever happen.
She shivers and opens her eyes. Water beads fall from her eyelashes like tears, maybe they are, she wouldn't know. She breathes deep and slow, clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut again. It's all she can do to stop herself from collapsing onto the cold tile floor. Her left hand extends from her side to grip the wall. Her nails dig and scratch.
She swallows hard and moves to turn off the tap. Blair reaches to wring out her hair and then opens the glass door to grab a towel. The cool air from outside sticks to her skin, giving her goose bumps. She dries off quickly, wraps her body in a white towel then leans over to do the same with her hair.
Her feet hit the tile floor soundlessly; she can still hear the remaining drops from the showerhead falling to the floor in a continual beat.
Blair raises her right hand to wipe the steam from the mirror in a circular motion. She stares blankly at her reflection. Her face is clear of any make-up, her skin left dewy from the steam. There's no doubt that she's beautiful, but lately she's just felt so plain.
There's not that sparkle in her eye or the natural blush to her cheek anymore. It's all gone and faded away. Everything has faded a bit since that night in the elevator. Food doesn't taste quite the same, her sleep is restless, even colors seem a little less vibrant.
Her lids feel heavy, her body relaxed from the heat of the shower.
Time for bed I suppose, she thinks to herself.
Still in her towel, she turns to her left and opens the door of the bathroom.
She doesn't even notice him sitting on her bed fiddling with his fingers as she moves into her closet to grab her favorite pair of cashmere pajamas. A soft cream color, she loves the feeling of the finest Italian knit against her freshly shaven legs. Sometimes, she thinks, you have to be thankful for the little things in life to get you through the day.
For a moment, she thinks she can smell his sweet cologne. It still lingers on some of her dresses. She walks towards her favorite, her seventeenth birthday dress. It's not her favorite so much because of its style or grace, but rather the memories it holds. That night marked the beginning of their story, at least for her. He had admitted his feelings for her and so they began their tumultuous love affair. Her hand glides along the fabric as she faintly sings one of her favorites, a Billie Holiday classic.
I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.
Memories of the summer flood her senses. The garden, his mint green suit, that goddamn pin and the way he looked at her. She'd take it all back in a second. She'd do things so differently. But wouldn't we all if we knew how things would turn out? We must learn from our mistakes.
I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
A yawn, and she's walking through the doorframe towards her bed, still singing the last notes.
But I'll be seeing y - -
Her breath catches in her throat when she sees his sitting there just staring in amazement. He never knew she could sing. His eyes are wide and childlike. He stands when she enters. He doesn't quite know why he even came. Lily had thrown him a party but it was just so dreadfully boring, filled with CEOS and board members. Blair was the only reason he agreed to it, but she never showed. He couldn't blame her, he thought. But he hoped, that maybe, just maybe she'd come.
Hands in his pockets, he looked down, towards the fireplace, anywhere but her eyes.
"I don't know why I'm here. I'll leave." He sounds defeated and empty. He moves towards the door, his shoulders slumped.
He's wearing a dark suit with a purple bowtie. His hair was tousled a bit, as if he had been running his hands through it all night. She smiles vaguely. She always loved how he dressed so impeccably. In part, it defined who he was.
"Happy Birthday," she gasps maybe a little too loudly. She hadn't even realized her lack of breathing.
He stopped and looked up. Maybe there was hope after all.
Her eyes were glassy; her lip trembled ever so slightly.
"Why didn't you come?" He wanted to know. He needed to know. If anything, he thought she would at least come for Serena and Lily. It wasn't like Blair to skip out on important events such as these.
"I couldn't." She bit her lip to stop it from trembling. She could feel the tears wanting to break free.
"You had plans?"
"No."
"I don't understand, " his brow furrowed.
"I just couldn't, Chuck." Her voice cracked at his name.
He took a step towards her, reaching out to take her hands but she looked down and shook her head violently.
"Every time I see you it's just a reminder of everything we're not. I couldn't do it."
She looks back up at him. His eyes are cast low; he takes a step backwards.
Just as he was about to retreat again, Blair remembers the present she got for him. It was the first thing that came to mind when deciding what to give him, but she pushed the thought aside, hoping to figure out an alternative. She went to every upscale shop in town, searching for something, anything but her silly initial idea. Alas, no scarf, ascot, or watch would ever compare. It was this or nothing at all.
You have to take a risk sometime Blair, her mind chanted in her ear.
"I got you something."
Her mind is racing as she whirls around towards her closet and brings out a small red package with gold ribbon.
He had sat back down on the bed; she moved to sit by him, leaving a distance between them. He looked at her expectantly, his body turned towards hers. She extended the gift to him and his fingers grazed hers as he grabbed it.
Chuck carefully untied the ribbon and pulled off the red wrapping. It was a small black box. It looked like an engagement ring box. He opened it and there sat her heart pin.
He felt his heart sink. He couldn't speak.
Her throat went dry.
He hates it. Oh, God. What have I done? This was a stupid, stupid idea Blair.
"You don't have to keep it if you don't want it. I … I just know that it'll always belong to you so I thought you should have it." Her voice was shaky and rushed, her breath ragged and heavy.
He turned to look at her. His eyes welled with tears.
"Thank you Blair. It's … perfect." His voice was a bit broken, but something else lingered. She couldn't quite place it. Hope perhaps? A trace of sadness? She didn't know.
She smiled softly and wiped a stray tear from her eye.
"Aren't you going to go back to your party?" She didn't want him to leave but it was his birthday after all. She couldn't possibly expect the notorious Chuck Bass to spend a night in with her on his 18th birthday.
He chuckled slightly, holding the pin between his thumb and pointer finger, examining it.
"No." His gaze on the pin, a smirk formed across his lips.
"Then what are you going to do?"
Stay. Please stay.
"I'm going to marry you Blair Waldorf." His voice was firm and unwavering, he said it with a smile as he continued to stare at the pin. He looked up eagerly, gauging her expression.
Her eyes grew wide, "What?" her voice was hushed with a mixture of confusion and hope. She could feel her lips curling upwards. This was certainly not how she expected this conversation to go, but she didn't mind. Not one bit.
He turned to look her dead in the eye and licked his lips.
"What do you think? I mean, not now, but later, maybe after college." It was so nonchalant, like the idea just came to him on a whim. He took her hands in his and kissed them each.
He took a deep breath.
"I love you Blair. I will always love you. I can promise you that." He moved from the bed to one knee on the carpet.
She could feel her heart wanting to beat out of her chest. She held his focused gaze. He looked so hopeful, so passionate, and childlike. He had this big goofy grin on his face. He never let go of her hands.
"Blair… will you marry me?"
She hesitated for just a moment. She had to think this through. This wasn't just any decision. It was one that would alter every aspect of her life. Despite this, she knew that Chuck Bass was her one and only. She was and would always be completely and irrevocably in love with him.
Oh dear. Married at 18? No, no, no. This is wrong. You're a Waldorf! But you love him. You love him.
"Not now?" She didn't want to become that girl who got married right out of high school. The thought disgusted her.
"Whenever you want." His eyebrows were raised. She couldn't get over his expression. She had never seen him smile like this.
Her smile grew wide like his. "YES! YES! Yes, you fool" She fell into his open arms and tears fell from their eyes. His arms held her tight against his chest and her hands found their way into his hair.
Lips collided, passion ignited. It had been too long.
He picked her up from the floor. Her legs wrapped around his waist. They fell onto the bed and she clumsily tried to undo the buttons of his shirt. His hands slipped under her top, touching her silken skin. To think that he would have this, her, for the rest of his life; it was all he could ask for.
"I think this is my best birthday yet," He growled into her ear and dragged his lips along her neck. She giggled against his cheek.
"Tell me you love me." She needed to hear it again. She needed this to be real. She halfway expected to wake up in just a few moments, panting and disheveled. Dorota standing at the foot of her bed giving her a disapproving look.
"I love you." He had made his way down her stomach with feather light kisses. His hands clutched her hips and thrust into her; she arched her back slightly.
"I love you too Chuck Bass." He laughed a little as she said it. It was the best kind of laughter.
They made love and whispered sweet nothings into the late hours of the night. She awoke in his arms, the sun having just peeked over the horizon. She watched him sleep soundly until he woke up, tracing her fingers along his shoulders, and down his jaw. He never even flinched. Sunlight streamed from the thin curtains, casting orange rays across their bodies. His eyelashes fluttered slightly at the morning light, revealing his chestnut gaze.
He gave her a small smile, raised his hand to brush the hair from her eyes and cup her cheek. Her hand moved over his touch. His voice raspy from the night, he whispered, "You look lovely," and slowly closed his lids once more. She laid her head back down on his chest, bringing her hands around his waist.
We're going to make beautiful children, she thought to herself.
Fin.
A/N: If you have any prompts for stories let me know. I'd love to hear any ideas you might have. Hope you liked it!