Author's note: I know. It's been months. I'm terribly, terribly sorry. I had so many papers and midterms—and just college life in general—that I eventually decided to abandon the story. And then I realized finally that I do really want to finish it, and I owe it to my readers. So updates will be very regular now, even if chapters are somewhat short; and again, I'm sorry!! (And the more you review, the faster updates will be). :)

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Chapter Nineteen: Adam's Curse

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We sat grown quiet at the name of love;

We saw the last embers of daylight die,

And in the trembling blue-green of the sky

A moon, worn as if it had been a shell

Washed by time's waters as they rose and fell

About the stars and broke in days and years.

-

I had a thought for no one's but your ears:

That you were beautiful, and that I strove

To love you in the old high way of love;

That it had all seemed happy, and yet we'd grown

As weary-hearted as that hollow moon.

--W.B. Yeats

Blair was afraid that Dan, Serena, Nate and her mother would be worried sick about her and would demand an explanation for the bruises and the torn dress. In fact, she thought darkly, they would most likely blame Chuck. This would be easy, since they would know she had been in his company; he was driving her home. She leaned back in the seat and sighed heavily.

"You don't have to do any explaining," said Chuck from beside her. "I'll tell them anything you want. They don't need to know the truth."

"Make something up," she said, and he nodded.

She looked around her at the inside of the limo. Chuck was staring out the window, his shoulders hunched and his fingers curled tightly into fists in his lap. He was probably nervous as well. A lock of hair was falling into his eyes; she leaned forward without thinking and tucked it behind his ear.

He gave her a swift, searching glance that seemed almost like a warning. She didn't care. She allowed her fingers to graze his cheek, to stroke back his hair. Why not, if doing so gave her some pleasure? She was too worn out to play games with him. She had endured too much.

She reached up with her other hand to cup his face so she could look at him. He tensed under her fingers. She traced the line of his jaw and then his lips with her thumb.

"Relax, Bass," she murmured. "This is hardly the first time we've been intimate in this limo."

He smiled a little despite himself. She leaned forward so that her soft brown hair whispered against his cheek, and he stiffened.

"I love you," she said, and then she was kissing his neck and she heard him inhale sharply.

"How often are you going to keep saying that?" He asked in a slightly aggressive voice.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," she repeated, almost amused that it made him so uncomfortable. She knew he wouldn't tolerate a display of affection like this from any other girl.

But apparently Chuck had his limits.

"Are you going to keep saying that when we're around Nate?" he asked. Blair abruptly stopped kissing him and sat back, leaning away from him. He immediately regretted it.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"No," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "It's actually a good question. What do you want me to do about Nate?"

He sighed and closed his eyes. "I don't know," he said in a defeated tone. "I have no idea."

She curled up on the seat of the limo and looked tiredly out the window.

"I don't have the energy to break up with him today," she said after a few minutes. "So I guess the charade will go on, for a little while at least."

"That's not really fair to Nate," Chuck pointed out.

"I'm a selfish person," said Blair. "You know this about me."

"That's true," he replied. "But do you actually want to break up with him?"

"Are you dense, Chuck?" She tossed a glare at him over her shoulder before turning back to continue staring out the window. "I told you I loved you, didn't I?"

"What if…" Chuck massaged his temples. "What if it never works out between us?" he asked in a strained voice. "If that were the case, would you still break up with him?"

Blair had turned to look at him, but she didn't answer. Her eyes were dark.

"We're here," called the driver.

Blair opened the door for herself and stepped out. "Chuck," she said, "this isn't my place—you took me to Serena's!"

"You don't want your mom and Cyrus seeing you in your present condition," Chuck explained. "Borrow some clothes from Serena first."

"Fine," Blair snapped. She was annoyed with him over the Nate conversation, but what he said made sense.

"Do you want me to talk to Serena for you, like we just discussed?"

"No, I can handle her," Blair replied, examining the bruises on her arms in the morning light. "And some borrowed clothes and a lot of make up will preclude the need for you to do any lying and covering up for me."

Chuck sighed, knowing that she was right; Eleanor Waldorf was not the most observant of mothers.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, at school, then?" he asked.

"Yes." She walked away from the limo, towards the house, and didn't look back. He watched her totter on her silver heels, observed the way her tattered blue dress clung to her small and fragile back, how the morning sunlight struck her russet hair. He suddenly missed the weight of her arm pressed up against his side, her head where it rested on his shoulder, when she had kissed him moments before and he had said something carelessly cruel.

"Blair, I—" he began, but of course she did not hear him.

He rolled up the window of the limo and silently signaled to his driver, and Blair heard the smooth crunch of gravel beneath tires behind her as she walked up the front steps and rang the doorbell; then she turned back to look, for a moment, and saw that the limo was gone.

***

"Blair," Serena said in shock, when she opened the door. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I had a bad night," said Blair tonelessly, pushing past her friend and trudging up the stairs to Serena's bedroom.

She opened the door and was greeted by a yelp, along with the sight of Dan Humphrey pulling the covers up desperately to cover his naked chest.

"B-B-Blair?" he stuttered.

"Take a minute to collect yourself, Humphrey," said Blair, closing the door in his face and then leaning back against it. She rolled her eyes. Serena had followed her up the stairs, and finally reached the top; she looked like she hardly knew what to say. She nervously ran a hand through her tousled golden hair.

"I guess you and Brooklyn finally made up," said Blair dryly, inspecting her nails. "I suppose congratulations are in order?"

"Um, yeah," said Serena. "Thanks." She took in Blair's bruised state and her torn dress, and a look of deep concern came into her eyes. "Again, what happened to you, B?"

"I was sort of attacked," replied Blair in a careless voice. "Nothing happened. I'm fine. Just tired."

"What?!" shrieked Serena, throwing open the door and yelling, "Dan, come out here this instant!"

"What's wrong?" asked Dan breathlessly, hastily buttoning his jeans and appearing at the door.

"Blair was attacked," Serena said in a dreadful whisper. "Oh my god, B—"

Dan had finally taken a moment to drink in Blair's appearance. "Oh Jesus," he said, "Oh no, Blair, does that mean—"

"Nothing happened," Blair repeated. "I got away."

"So…" Serena began, uncertainly; her eyes had filled up with tears. "So you weren't—"

"No one raped me," Blair said bluntly. Usually she was all for euphemisms, but today she was too tired to tiptoe around anything. Serena flinched, and Dan let out a long sigh of relief.

"I'm fine, I'm relatively unhurt," continued Blair, shooting Serena an apologetic look. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"What happened?" asked Dan.

"Some guys followed me home from the party last night," began Blair in a weary tone. "But Chuck fought them off, so it's ok." She yawned. "Look, I'm exhausted—could I maybe sleep here a few hours?"

"Chuck?!" exclaimed both Serena and Dan at the same time.

"I'll explain later," Blair said, and hobbled towards Serena's bed. She closed the door behind her, leaving Dan and Serena shut out on the other side with identical dumbfounded expressions.