Author's note: My most darling readers and to those who left comments, thank you! The fact that you decided to give my piece a try means the world and more to me and I thank you from the bottom of my heart! I'm quite excited to get this story rolling and here is the first chapter! Hopefully, you all enjoy it and I sincerely hope that it prompts you to keep on reading! This chapter goes back in time from the prologue; it basically starts from the part where Blair finds Chuck in her room and continues from there. And with that, I sincerely hope that you like it and don't be afraid to tell me otherwise - I would love to hear from you; compliments as well as constructive criticism (please, keep it construction, though!) :)

Disclaimer: I still do not own the characters of Blair Waldorf or Chuck Bass. :(

c h a p t e r 1 .

1 2 : 0 8 a . m .

Blair Waldorf stormed into her room at a breakneck pace, heels clacking ferociously against the hardwood floor. "What do you think you're doing here?" she demanded in an imperious tone before having the wind knocked out of her by the very sight of him.

There was Chuck Bass simply sitting on her bed. Still dressed in the same clothes he'd been wearing earlier that day (and most likely the day before), he sat, his shoulders hunched and back curved over like the homeless people she usually ignored on the streets. Did he think that he could come here after breaking her heart and just –

At that moment, he looked up at her and she saw his eyes. Time stopped and for a moment, she lost track of her breathing; she had never seen his eyes like that before. The edges were traced with scarlet, the flesh around them was swollen and those dark eyes of his shone and shimmered in the dim light of her bedroom. Her blood came to a screeching halt in her veins as he merely looked up at her. She saw brokenness in those irises of coal she hadn't seen this afternoon. When she'd last seen him by his limo, his stare had been cold, harsh and glazed over by alcohol; now, the eyes boring into hers were broken, helpless and so, so lost.

He looked at her and she saw the tears glimmering in his black eyelashes.

He looked at her and she saw how he was saying, "I need you," without saying a word.

He looked at her and she loved him more than she ever had before.

It was like his gaze stripped her of her anger toward him and she was pulled – as if by some unknown force – to him. She was immediately at his side and she took him in her arms as someone would their child. She cradled his head to her chest and seized his arm in an almost violent gesture. Grasping at the material of his jacket as if wishing to rip it away and feel his skin or transfer some of the warmth in her touch to him, Blair unconsciously rocked him gently in her embrace and she nestled her head next to his ear. Inhaling the faint scent scotch on his breath and the salt of his tears, she also detected a faint hint of smoke and the musty smell of clothes that had been slept in. She didn't care, though - to her, he smelled heavenly and so like… Chuck. It was a sharp, sad smell and it tugged harshly at her heartstrings.

Had he always smelled like that? Like… sadness?

His body relaxed against her and she felt his back expand and slowly deflate in a sigh… Suddenly, he laid his head on her shoulder and she felt an overwhelming urge to cry. Quelling the sobs that had somehow floated up and lodged themselves in her throat, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip on him. She was trying to say, "I'm here. I love you. You'll always have me…" but she wasn't sure if he understood…

Clutching again at his sleeve, she almost started in shock as his hand came out of nowhere, covered hers and squeezed her fingers hard. His grip was deathly and painful, but she relished it; it was real and it seemed to both anchor her to this world and bind her steadfastly to Chuck. He clasped his fingers around hers even harder still and she merely returned the intensity of his grip with the ghost of a smile hanging on her lips. Maybe she could make him feel like she didn't want him to leave or fade away… Maybe she could make him feel like he was wanted and needed and loved just as much as he'd always wanted to be… Maybe.

She squeezed harder.

Bending her head forward, she planted a soft, lingering kiss on his clothed shoulder just as he had on her seventeenth birthday in an effort to comfort her… She thought of all the wasted time in between that seventeenth birthday and now and almost wanted to physically punish herself for letting all that time go by without being with him… They could have had so much time together if they'd just forgotten or forfeited that stupid game, but they hadn't… Whenever one was ready, the other was scared. Whenever one gave, the other one took. Their relationship over the past year or so had been nothing but pushing and pulling, winning and losing and smirks and sneers. It was as if they didn't know how to just be together and let that fact alone be enough. They'd been on separate teams the entire time… why couldn't they have been on the same one? They were so focused on winning, they always somehow lost.

Stroking the damp skin of his cheek, she felt new tears drip onto her thumb. Wiping them away, she whispered, "Its okay…" and she felt him stir. "Just let it out."

He shook his head. Still, more tears fell and she caught them all and rubbed them into her skin. "Really," she said softly, making her voice as gentle as she possibly could, "I don't mind."

"I can't," he croaked and her heart tore at the sound of his deep voice marred by sleepless nights, liqueur and loss.

"It's okay," she repeated, holding him closer to her, "I won't tell a soul… You can trust me, Chuck. You know that."

"I –" he choked out, but didn't finish. She could tell that he'd wanted to say something horrible that would get her off his case, but he'd caught himself. Perhaps he knew that he couldn't get rid of her…. Perhaps he knew that she knew he didn't mean half the things he said… Perhaps that was his way of saying 'I love you' in return… He let out a long breath, "I know you won't," he admitted so quietly she barely heard him.

"Then go ahead. It'll be our secret," she grinned sadly, placing a little kiss on the angle of his jaw. Blair's heart was beating so fast she marveled at how she hadn't yet passed out; he was here… He'd come to see her… Would this change anything or would they go back to being the same as they were before? Did this mean that he loved her too? He must… He had to… She felt like crying too and she could barely explain why. God… She loved him…

There was a pause that lasted about two minutes until a tiny tremor coursed through Chuck's body. Again, another rippled through his limbs, but this time, a tiny noise issued from his throat. The sobs he'd kept at bay for days now bubbled up from some place deep inside him and escaped his mouth in great, heaving breaths weighed down by grief. He cried and cried and cried and did not stop for a very long time. Blair merely held him and, eventually, shifted positions so that his face was buried into her shoulder and their chests were touching.

The last time Blair had ever seen Chuck cry was when she was invited over to his house and they were both in first grade. They played in the sandbox in his grand backyard and they made elaborate designs for great sandcastles that would take weeks to build and they even ran inside to bring out sheets of paper on which to sketch their wildly imagined works of art. About an hour later, with their ambitious project underway, Eleanor came early to pick up Blair and Chuck burst into tears.

"I need her, Mrs. Waldorf!" he'd cried and shouted as Blair was helped into her purple pea coat. "I can't do it on my own!" he'd pouted sullenly, holding Blair's hand and not letting go.

"Your Dad'll finish it with you," had supplied a tiny Blair who knew her own father would more than love to undertake such a project with his Blair-Bear.

This only served to upset Chuck further. At this, he stamped his little leather clad feet on the marble of the Bass entryway and his sobs increased in fervor. "He won't! He won't! He doesn't do anything with me," he wept, his dark curls falling into his face. Releasing Blair's hand, he had then turned to Eleanor and tugged on her coattails, pleading, "Let Blair stay. Nate's gone to Prague and she's my second best friend…" Sniffling and reflecting for a moment, he hesitantly tried out a word he'd only heard in the movies, "Please?"

Blair spent the night and a good portion of the next day at the Bass household.

Feeling the violent shivers that undulated along his spine, she murmured reassuring things in his ear. Remembering that day, she saw now that his tears then and now were completely different. Those had been tears stemming from a petty, childish heartbreak. These were tears infused with pain that burned your skin as they slid down your face. These tears went much deeper than the flesh they rolled down; they scalded and burned your insides like acid. They stung and the intensity of his sobs must have been leaving his throat raw and sore. Therefore, she let her ten thousand dollar dress be sullied by his tears and spittle and she continued to hold him tightly, never wanting to let go. He simply cried. No words were intertwined with his sobs; it was just tears and emotion. His fluttering hands would sometimes latch onto her sides, her own hands or her arms, as if blindly searching for someone else in his sea of loneliness.

She stayed. Blair Waldorf stayed with Chuck Bass as he cried senselessly and she ran her fingers through his matted hair. She breathed silly nothings like, "Shush," or "It'll be alright," or "I'm here…" even though, normally, she wouldn't be caught dead saying ridiculously sappy things like that and meaning them… Sometimes, he would let out long, angry groans that were a mixture of every pent up emotion he'd never voiced – hating his father for not loving him, loving his father despite everything, missing his father no matter the despicable last words to his son, everything he did wrong – and Blair could tell he wanted to hit something or break something, but he didn't. He just cried. She had even steeled herself for a blow should he choose to strike her out of fury and she realized she wouldn't care; she knew he wouldn't mean it if he did… She did all of this and more… She even did something she wasn't sure anyone else had done before; she loved Chuck Bass with all her heart.

That was how they spent their first hour together.

Final note: Once again, thank you for reading! It is for you, the readers, that I keep going and it is your reviews that keep the words flowing... Therefore, please leave a comment for me and it will make my humble day! Thank you once more and hoping to hear from you all! :)