A/N: Hey readers, thanks for your reviews! Every comment means a lot to me :) So, taking into consideration what you guys wrote, I wrote one last chapter. Starts v angsty because I couldn't help myself haha but I promise it has a happy ending.
They make it through junior year together. Miraculously, they even pull through the start of senior year, college applications and all. They go back to normal… mostly.
When Chuck falls asleep in Blair's bed, they do more than innocently cuddle.
When Nate needs to get out of his house, he escapes to Serena's and they try not to feel too bad about hooking up, knowing Chuck and Blair are free to do the same.
When Blair drinks too much, she and Serena put on a show for the boys, because at this point, why the fuck not? They're beyond caring.
They're too afraid to make it official, and it's starting to consume them. It would be easier if they could just define their new relationships. More normal. But it's also a huge risk, and none of them are willing to take it. No one wants to create that divide. Despite their differences, they all need each other. Blair and Nate are better as friends, and find comfort in their shared history. Chuck and Serena come to a mutual understanding that they help each other out when one of them has a little too much to drink and Queen Blair's feeling particularly judgey. Blair and Serena are closer than ever, forgiveness tightening their bond. Even Chuck and Nate would be lost without their bromance, although they won't admit it.
So they let themselves love together. Feel together. When one of them rises, they all rise. When one of them falls, they all fall. They almost make it to graduation, they're halfway there, when they fracture again.
Because Bart Bass dies, and Chuck implodes, and it's too late for any of them to escape the black hole that is his despair.
That night, he tries to outrun them, for their own sake. But they can't help chasing him. They chase him to the clean white hospital, where he doesn't speak. They chase him to a very loud very grungy dive-bar that is very un-Chuck-Bass, where he only yells. They chase him to his suite, where he halfheartedly locks them out, knowing full well they all have key cards. They chase him to his room, where he's actually able to lock the door for good, and although he's silent, they can feel him crying.
Blair throws herself at his door until she starts to bruise and Serena has to pull her away kicking and screaming. When she regains rational thought in Serena's embrace, she tells the blondes they should go home.
"Sleep in your own beds," she tells them, voice inexplicably broken.
"You should go home, too, Blair," Nate advises.
"You know I can't," she says, turning her attention back to the dead-bolted door.
They understand.
"We'll be back in the morning," Serena assures her, giving her a hug before trailing after Nate.
"Chuck?" She tries again, knocking on the door.
"Leave me alone, Waldorf."
She sighs, pressing her back against his door and sliding down to the ground, knees to her chest. Minutes later, she hears his voice again, closer than before. She thinks he might be pressed against the door, too, and she leans into it even more, trying to reach him.
"Waldorf?" He asks.
"Are you gonna let me in?"
He hesitates.
"No."
She doesn't reply, but stays and watches the sun rise through his window because she knows he doesn't want her to leave him, and she doesn't want to go either.
When Serena wakes her up at midday, the first thing she notices is that it's snowing.
"It's snowing," she says unnecessarily.
"I know," Serena says.
Neither of them sound particularly excited about it.
Blair's wearing yesterday's dress and her makeup is smudged around her eyes in a very unladylike manner, but she just resumes her position against Chuck's door.
"We'll stay here if you wanna go home to shower," Nate says.
Blair refuses to leave, so the three of them hold vigil in Chuck's suite in relative silence for the rest of the day. Chuck's quiet, too. Blair hopes he's asleep, but doesn't believe for a second he is. She knows he's probably staring at a wall, drinking all the Scotch he keeps stockpiled in there. She can't even guess what he's feeling, and that more than anything else makes her uncomfortable. He won't open the door until he's out of alcohol, that she knows for sure.
Nate disappears for a while, but returns with takeout sushi and a deck of cards. He and Serena join Blair at Chuck's door, and they play a few rounds of poker until the sushi's gone.
"Are we really just gonna let him stay in there?" Serena asks.
"He has to come out at some point," Nate says.
He fits and arm around her shoulder and she leans into him. They're usually not so sweetly affectionate around Blair. It makes her ache, not for Nate, but for what he has with Serena.
Blair can tell he's dying to make it official with her. Despite her supposedly being the clingy one when they were together, she knows Nate loves being in a relationship. He'll ask her out on an official date, and she'll say yes, Blair knows. And when he asks her to be his girlfriend, she'll say yes to that, too. Blair knows them both too well, knows there's always been chemistry between them, knows he was the one thing Serena ever envied her for. She hopes they, at least, can find happiness, since she and Chuck are doomed. Emotionally unavailable is an understatement for her best friend. It used to make things easier for them, but now, she resents him for it.
The sound of glass breaking pulls her from her thoughts, and she immediately jumps to her feet and starts banging on his door again. She vowed to leave him alone until he decided to let her in, but she becomes delirious as soon as she suspects he's hurt himself.
"Chuck Bass, you open this door right fucking now! I swear to God I'm gonna break it down! Open up you fucking idiot!"
She curses him out through that God forsaken door and refuses to be comforted by Serena this time. Nate tries to pull her away, but she won't have that, either.
"Don't fucking touch me!" She screams as soon as he puts his hands on her.
She doesn't want to be touched. Not by Nate, at least.
Her voice is growing raspy by the time she hears his.
"I'm fine," is all he says.
She freezes. His voice sounds unfamiliar and far away.
"Chuck?"
"I'm fine, Blair."
"Can you open the door?"
She doesn't quite believe it when she hears the lock click and he swings the door open. She throws herself at him, but he doesn't hug her back. When she looks up at him, she learns what heartbreak feels like. He doesn't look like himself. His hair is in disarray like she's never seen before. His eyes are glazed over, like he's looking through her instead of at her, and they're framed by huge dark circles, so she knows he hasn't slept. He smells like Scotch, although that's not entirely unprecedented.
She doesn't know what to say to him, so "I love you," just comes tumbling out.
It's been implied for years, the fact that they love each other. They're best friends. It would be crazy to assume that they didn't. But they don't say it. At least not like that. Maybe that's why he extends his arms so she's out the door, and then immediately slams it in her face. She's shocked. Mostly by what she said, but by him, too. That's not what her best friend would have done to her. He's never shut her out before. Literally. He's thrown call girl after call girl out of that room so that she could sit on his couch and vent about Eleanor. The door has never been closed to her. But here she is, staring at it.
So she cries. She can't help it. Serena and Nate just stand there looking shocked. When Serena tries to approach her, she puts her hands out and backs up until her back hits the door, which practically burns her. There's no comforting her.
"Just come home with us, Blair."
She sinks to the ground.
"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow."
Curls up in a ball.
"He'll come out tomorrow."
Closes her eyes.
"You'll feel better in the morning."
Tries to block everything out.
"Blair, you're scaring me."
Shuts down.
She curls in on herself more tightly and puts her hands over her ears, trying to crush her skull. She's trying to block all her senses, but somehow, she still feels it when Nate crouches down next to her. She still hears it when Serena starts banging furiously on Chuck's door. And she definitely notices Chuck's presence when he makes a reappearance minutes later. She opens her eyes to see Chuck grab Serena's wrist mid-knock. He's screaming at her and Blair's still covering her ears trying not to hear and Nate's stepping in between Chuck and Serena and Serena's screaming too and it's sensory overload for Blair, so she stands up and tries to make a run for it, but Nate's faster than her and has her by the waist before she can reach the front door. She starts fighting him, screaming, adding her voice to the chorus that is Chuck and Serena, until the typically mild-mannered Nate surprises them all.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He screams.
Chuck and Serena turn to look at him, and Blair freezes in his grip.
"This is insane. You guys know that, right? Serena, you need to take it down a notch and cut him some slack. Blair, you're tougher than this. You can't just fall apart. You can't. And Chuck, I'm sorry, man, but I think you might actually be driving Blair slightly out of her mind. You're really scaring us."
"My apologies," Chuck slurs sarcastically.
"We just wanna help," Nate continues, ignoring Chuck's sarcasm and obviously drunkenness. "Whatever you wanna do right now, just let us do it with you."
"I think I've been abundantly clear. I want to drink."
Nate hesitates, but knows there's no way he's going to convince Chuck into sobriety the day before his father's funeral, and he doesn't really want to, either.
"Fine, then let us drink with you."
To prove his point, he moves to the kitchen and fills two glasses with Scotch. Chuck follows him, if only to claim the alcohol Nate's offering. Nate fills two more glasses, raising his eyebrows at Blair and Serena.
"Oh, what the hell," Blair resigns, walking up to the counter and draining her glass in one swallow.
Serena follows with a "Cheers" and they spend the night playing "Who Can Get as Drunk as Chuck Without Dying."
In the early hours of the morning, he finally blacks out. Nate and Serena leave, and Blair wiggles herself in between Chuck and the back of the couch he's passed out on.
She tells him she loves him again, certain he's dead to the world, but it still feels good to say it. It's true. It might be the death of her, it might be absolutely crazy, but it's true. She intertwines their hands and hooks her leg over his waist and falls asleep with her head on his chest.
That's exactly how he wakes up early the next morning, with Blair everywhere, and for a split second, he forgets the tragedy that is his life. So he lies there and tries not to move until absolutely necessary, when he's forced to run to the bathroom to vomit. He wakes her up and she's right behind him, smoothing the hair off of his sweaty forehead as he retches. When his stomach settles, he cleans his mouth with a swig from the bottle of Scotch he stowed under the bathroom sink.
"Chuck, please don't."
"I'm sorry," he tells her.
He tries not to look at her. Tries not to see the pain in her eyes. Pain he caused. He never meant to hurt her.
"I'm so sorry, Blair, and if I thought you could get out of my life I'd tell you to leave, but I know you can't. I'm so sorry for putting you through this, but this is what I am. I was always meant to hurt you. That's all I'm gonna do, Blair. I'm gonna keep hurting you and disappointing you, like I disappoint everyone in my life, and I'm sorry for that."
"Chuck, I…"
"Don't," he cuts her off. "It's early. Can we please just go back to sleep?" He asks.
"Go ahead."
He collapses on his bed and stares at her.
"What?" She asks. "What do you want from me? I can't stay, but I can't seem to go either."
"I know," he says.
"So what do I do?"
"You come here, because you're my best friend, and I need you, and I've never slept well without you, and now I don't think I'll sleep at all ever again if you don't come over here."
She just nods and joins him on the bed, pressing her forehead to his and closing her eyes.
"You've never disappointed me."
He scoffs, certain she's lying out of pity. She falls asleep mercifully quickly, but he's not as lucky, so he just gets shit faced until Nate and Serena come to collect him for his father's funeral, which he's decided he will not be attending, out of respect for the dearly departed.
Nate tries to wrestle him into the shower, but quickly gives up, and he's eventually coerced in by a naked and grumpy Blair. She's always grumpy after being woken up. Then, she forces him into a suit and pushes him out of his bedroom while so Serena can help her reapply her makeup and fix her neglected hair.
While they wait, he tells Nate he has no plans to leave the suite today between swigs of Scotch.
"Chuck says he's not going," Nate informs the girls when they emerge, dressed and accessorized impeccably.
"Put your shoes on, Chuck," Blair says.
One more pull of Scotch and he finds he can't fight them.
He lets them drag him to and from his limo. He lets them try to convince everyone he's holding it together as he pushes his way into the church. He lets them try to comfort him through the service, but the truth is, he doesn't hear a word of it. All he hears is his father reprimanding him, telling him he's worthless, calling him a disappointment, and he wishes for a bottle and solitude. Maybe a few prostitutes. He drinks his way through the service and the reception and feels blissfully numb. He finally manages to slip away when none of his keepers are watching, but when he finds himself alone in his suite, the numbness starts to fade. He drains the last of his Scotch and thinks about calling down for more, but it's not helping anymore, anyway. He can still feel shit he doesn't want to feel, can't forget anything, and he wants to shut his mind off but he can't do that either.
So he smashes everything breakable in his suite and screams until the sun goes down and the city goes dark.
His mind is still racing and it keeps repeating one word, one name, over and over again. Blair, Blair, Blair, like a mantra in his head. Her name like a vice, like a blessing, like a curse.
He goes numb again, just for a little, her name like morphine, and only starts to feel again when he somehow ends up at the service entrance to her building, where Dorota mercifully slips him into her room.
This is home. This is where he grew up. This is where they had pillow fights and played jacks and read books and shared secrets and loved each other. This is where he's safe. This is where he has a family. Blair, Blair, Blair, her name alone dragging him slightly out of the darkness. Just enough for him to allow himself to collapse on her bed, shoulders sagging, and let his guard down for a little while. He glances around at her trinkets, her walls, the pillows on her bed, all things he's become so familiar with over the years. It calms him down for the first time since his father died, just being here in her room.
"What do you think you're doing here?"
That's when he remembers her I love you. He drunkenly pushed it down, unwilling to hear it, unable to accept it, and she's justifiably upset. He's trying to come up with something to say, some way to explain himself, to tell her he loves her and he needs her in fewer words. She saves him the trouble, though, and he's in her arms once again as the remaining strength leaves his body. He thinks he must black out for a little, from grief or alcohol he can't tell, but the next thing he knows she's spooning him, fingers playing in his disastrous hair, whispering something in his ear. He tries to regain his senses so he can hear her more clearly.
"And then the next summer, when you went away, I was distraught. I think that was the longest we've ever been apart. I missed you so much. It was the worst summer of my life. That was when I realized how much I need you. It scared me. It still scares me. You're strong, Chuck Bass. You're strong and you're smart and you're loyal, and you're my best friend."
He hears her voice start to waver, and he hates to think he's making her cry, so he rolls on top of her and tries to kiss it all away.
"Hey," she says while he's sucking on her neck.
He tries to continue what he's doing, but she puts her hands on his head and forces him off her neck so they have no choice but to make eye contact. Her's are bright with lust, his red and rimmed by sleepless nights. She scrutinizes him for a moment, and when a tear rolls down her cheek, he breaks free of her grip, slamming the bed next to her with his fist.
"Fuck!"
"Chuck, what …" she stammers, trying to understand his rage. "What's wrong? Just tell me. Please. You can tell me anything."
"I swore I'd never make you cry."
"W-what?"
"Back when we were kids. We were playing hide and seek and you couldn't find me, and you started crying, and seeing you like that was the worst feeling in the world. So I promised myself I'd never let it happen again. But I fucked up. I fucked up so many times. And you're still here, even though I don't deserve you."
"Please stop saying that," she begs. "You don't disappoint me, you're not a fuck up, and you do deserve someone who loves you. I love you."
"You don't really love me," he tells her point blank. "You feel bad for me and you're trying to make me feel better. And I appreciate it, Blair, I really do, but you don't have to tell me you love me."
"But I do."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you the first time, and I'm sorry for making you feel like you had to say it again. You don't. You don't need to be in love with me. You can't be in love with me."
"You really don't believe me."
"No, I don't."
"You don't think I love you?"
"No."
"And you don't love me?"
"I … No …"
He struggles to find the words, but eventually pushes something out.
"You're the most important person in my life," he says forcefully. "You always have been, and you always will be."
"But you don't love me?"
"Blair, please don't do this."
He loves her. He loves her so much, and he always has, always will, but he needs to be selfless. He's always been able to keep her at arm's length between Nate and his reputation as a ruthless womanizer and their unwavering friendship, but that's all going away as of late. Blair and Nate broke up. He's been too preoccupied with her to remind people how much of a douche he can be. And even he can't deny they've become something more than best friends. That was a mistake on his part. Because obviously now she thinks she's in love with him, and already he's dragging her down. She can't tie herself to him anymore. He won't let her.
"You don't love me," she says through tears.
And he's so weak. She's crying, and he hates to see her cry. He'd do anything for her. That's how it's always been between them. He'd die for her. She's his rock, his gravity, his everything. So in that moment, when he's blatantly causing her pain, his resolve from the past 18 years utterly shatters, and he lays his head on the guillotine.
"Damnit Blair!" He yells, flying off her bed. "I love you," he says, trying not to yell. "I've loved you for so, so long. I've always known I'd never love anyone else. It's only been you since we were four years old, and every year, every goddamn day, I've loved you more and more. So don't fucking tell me I don't love you. I'm just trying to save you."
"Save me?" She asks, furrowing her eyebrows, shooting off the bed so she's eye to eye with him.
"How the fuck is this saving me!? You can't get rid of me, Bass. I'm here for the long haul, because like it or not I need you too. You're no martyr for trying to free me or whatever bullshit you think you're doing here. You're just a coward."
In that moment, he hears his father's voice instead of the voice of the woman he loves, and it brings him to his knees. His hands fist in his hair and he tries to sort out his thoughts, but he's too confused and emotional, and if he's being honest he's still a little bit drunk, and it all just hurts. So he just lets his mouth run. And "I love you" comes tumbling out. And he comes back to earth a little. "I love you," he says again, less agonized this time. And she's kneeling on the plush carpet with him, climbing into his lap as he sits back on his haunches, wrapping herself around him until he realizes he's shaking and manages to control himself again.
"I'm sorry," she says.
"Don't be."
"No, I am. I don't know why I was pushing so hard."
"Because I made you."
She just sighs and tells him she loves him, and he tells her he loves her too, because he does and it makes him feel better just saying it. Why shouldn't they love each other? Maybe this way he can make her happy. If nothing else, he can at least try to give her love. She's made it clear she's not going to give him up any time soon, so if she's determined to stay, he's determined not to crumble, not to fail, not to destroy them.
"Can I stay here tonight?" He asks.
"Of course."
As soon as his body hits her duvet, he's asleep, shoes still on, ties still losely knotted around his neck, and she's not far behind.
When he wakes a few hours later, he's surprised by the amount of sleep he got. He's dehydrated and his head is pounding, so he finds his way to her kitchen in the dark, having performed the same routine many times over the course of many nights spent in her bed. He unknots his tie and removes his button down, leaving him in slacks and a t-shirt, having toed off his shoes at her bedroom door to make as little noise as possible.
When he opens the fridge and light floods the kitchen, he's startled to find Eleanor sitting at the table.
"I should have known you'd be here, Charles."
He's inexplicably uncomfortable, so he just clears his throat as he grabs a bottle of water and waits for her to say something else.
"Heading out?" She asks.
"No ma'am. Not if you don't mind."
"Don't be foolish. You know you're welcome here any time, day or night."
He nods his gratitude and becomes suddenly self conscious of his hair, trying to smooth it down for the first time in days.
"You look like a mess," Eleanor observes unnecessarily, causing his hands to still in his hair.
"You need a haircut," she adds.
"Must have slipped my mind," he says a little too sharply. He never was able to hold his tongue, even around Eleanor, whom he at least makes an effort to respect.
"Yes, that's perfectly understandable."
"Maybe I should head home," he says, desperately trying to escape the conversation.
"That's ridiculous. This is just as much your home as the Palace, Charles," she says, rounding the counter and placing a hand on his shoulder. "And Blair would have a fit if she woke up and you were gone," Eleanor says with a laugh.
Chuck manages to crack a half-smile in her direction, wanting nothing more than to get back to Blair's room before Eleanor starts puling some motherly shit on him. And sure enough …
"I'm sorry about your father."
He doesn't want to hear it.
"He was a dear friend," she continues. "I know he wasn't the greatest parent, and maybe we're alike in that manner, but I know he loved you."
Chuck's jaw tenses and he remains silent.
"You've been like a son to Harold and I, and I know you've always had my daughter's best interests at heart, even when I haven't. I thank you for that, Charles. I know you're a good man. Please don't let this ruin you. She needs you."
"She doesn't," he mumbles.
"What was that?"
"She doesn't need me. She's strong without me."
"While that may be, she certainly wants you, and my Blair always gets what she wants," Eleanor says with a sly smile in Chuck's direction.
He takes a pull from the water bottle and Eleanor moves towards the stairs.
"Goodnight, Charles."
"Night, Eleanor."
When he makes his way back upstairs a few minutes later, he finds Blair flying around her room, apparently looking for something.
"Blair?" He asks, and she whirls on him.
"I thought you left," she breathes out. "I thought you were gone."
"No, I just went to grab a drink," he explains, holding up the water bottle as proof.
She walks back to her bed and collapses into the mountain of pillows at her headboard.
"I thought you left me," she reiterates once he's rid himself of his slacks and joined her back in bed.
"I'm not going anywhere," he assures her. "I'm staying right here with you."
Her hand finds his and she rolls over so her head rests comfortably on his chest, tilted slightly to allow for eye contact.
"I love you, Chuck."
"I love you too, Blair."
When they toss their caps in the air and graduate, they're all smiling. They desperately try to escape the ceremony as soon as possible, but Eleanor manages to pin them all down for photos.
"They came out well," Blair says a couple weeks later, sipping lemonade at Serena's family house in the Hamptons.
"Lemme see!" Serena says, reaching a manicured hand towards Blair, who hands over the photos.
"Aww," she croons. "They're adorable!"
Blair smirks, thinking that if Chuck were here when Serena used the word adorable to describe a photo of him, he'd be furrowing his eyebrows and saying something witty about how he isn't adorable, even though he is.
"Can I take this one for my dorm?" Serena asks.
She shows Blair one of the photos of them at graduation. Serena's eyes are closed and her mouth is wide open in a laugh, but she still looks gorgeous. Nate smiles charmingly at the camera, hair unfortunately mused from his cap, but it's obvious from the way he's glancing at Serena that he couldn't care less about his hair, or anything that isn't her. Chuck has his arm around Blair's waist, holding her tight against his side, smirking uncaringly and staring straight at the lens, but looking more relaxed and content than normal. Blair's looking up at him with a laugh playing at her lips, dress coordinated perfectly with his suit, one heel popped towards the sky as she uses his shoulder to for balance. It's a good photo. She can always print another copy.
Blair drops the print when Nate and Chuck come through the back door to the porch dressed in tennis whites and launches herself at her boyfriend.
"You're sweaty," she tells him, scrunching her nose in distaste.
"Apparently, playing tennis will do that to you."
"You don't sweat," she says, only half joking.
"You're not wrong," he says with a shrug, and Nate laughs.
"Maybe if you sweat a little harder, I wouldn't have kicked your ass," Nate ribs.
"Yeah, but notice how your girlfriend is keeping her distance," Chuck throws back.
At that, Serena gets out of her lawn chair and wraps herself around Nate, kissing him on the mouth. When she comes up for air, she keeps her arm around his shoulders and he reaches his hand up to interlace his fingers with hers, raising his eyebrows in Chuck's direction.
"You do kind of smell," Serena jokes, scooting away from Nate ever so slightly.
"Oh yeah?" He asks.
Before she can respond, he's scooped her up and she's shrieking and he's running towards the pool, throwing them both in, him in his clothes and her in her favorite bikini.
"Don't get any ideas, Bass," Blair says, looking up at Chuck from their spot on the patio.
They watch as Serena climbs onto Nate's shoulders, challenging them to a chicken fight.
"Shall we?" Chuck asks.
"We have always been the best," Blair replies.
Chuck removes his shirt and sneakers and offers his arm, which Blair takes, and they enter the pool far more gracefully, using the steps. They're not so graceful when it comes to the game though, Blair shoving Serena off Nate's shoulders time and time again, legs wrapped tightly around Chuck's head.
"Damnit!" Nate says, slapping the water after losing five rounds in a row.
"We're more practiced," Chuck says cockily.
"Yeah, more practiced at having your head between her thighs, maybe," Nate says, meaning to be insulting.
"Exactly," Chuck says back, and Blair and Serena laugh from the side of the pool, where they sit with their feet dangling in the water.
"I need a drink," Nate says.
"I'm right behind you."
Chuck follows him out of the pool and Serena lays her head in Blair's lap and looks up at her best friend.
"What's up, S?"
"Nothing," Serena says, blonde hair splayed across Blair's pale legs. "Just happy, B."
"Me too," Blair says with a smile, looking out across the pool and the huge lawn, across the street to the ocean where she spent her summers with her best friends.
"I'm gonna miss you at college," Blair adds.
"We're not too far, and I'll come visit you and Nate at Yale all the time," Serena adds.
"You better," Blair says as she looks down at Serena.
When the boys come back out with cocktails for all four of them, the sun is halfway set. Nate sits next to Blair, hauling Serena's legs into his lap. Chuck sits behind his girlfriend, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair as she leans back against his chest in an incredibly practiced motion. They watch the sun fade from brilliant oranges and yellows to darker reds and purples to muted pinks to dark blues until it disappears completely, leaving them in darkness, the pool lights throwing shadows around their bodies.
"What are we gonna do next year?" Blair asks.
Chuck sits up straighter and wraps his arms around her waist.
"We'll be fine," he reassures.
"We've never been good apart."
"You and Nate are going to the same school, I'll be in the city, and Serena will visit every weekend."
"I know," Blair says nodding.
"Don't worry, B," Serena says, sitting up and repositioning herself so she's lying on her back in between Blair and Nate.
Nate's back finds the grass next to Serena and his hand finds hers while Chuck leans back again, Blair still resting against his chest, knees curled up to keep warm.
"You won't be able to get rid of us for long," Serena jokes.
Blair laughs and relaxes again. She'll miss her friends when they start college, but she knows Serena's right.
"I love you," Chuck mumbles in her ear.
"I love you too, Chuck."
He lightly tugs at her hair, and she slaps his hand away, dropping her head to his shoulder to look up at him with a disapproving glance.
"Nate dared me," he says with a smirk, and she can't help but laugh, remembering braids and playgrounds and mischievous friends.
"You're trouble, Bass."
He smirks again and leans down to capture her lips with his. When they break the kiss she relaxes back into him and he sits up to wrap his arms around her.
"Thanks for being my best friend," she says.
"Pleasure is all mine," he replies.
She clasps his hands and he wraps his arms more tightly around he shoulders, both of them perfectly content to stay that way forever.