Chapter 10

Hi, this is my last chapter, (OR IS IT???)so enjoy. I made the last from both Blair's and Chuck's point of view.

I hate everything about you
Why do I love you
You hate everything about me
Why do you love me

1:03am

I'm a dumbass.

A genuine dumbass. Class A! First in line for Register to be a Dumbass. Why do I allow myself to be…violated by a person-if you can call Chuck that-equal or more of a dumbass like me? Maybe dumbasses like the pain, or the feeling of being worried for the next few days, that word will get out that you cheated on your boyfriend for three years. With Chuck Bass. As if the humiliation isn't enough, so is the process. Chuck hovers over me like some moronic slightly autistic creep, watching my expression as he…you know…enters me. It's degrading and shameful, and I can literally feel myself sink down lower in the food chain when he's nipping at my neck. Granted, it does feel good, like taking a hit from a bong (I only did that once, at Lauren's party). But, that's beside the point.

As I lie awake, I'm left to wonder what it is that makes me go back to square one whenever I meet him. Is it his bad boy charm? A lot of women are attracted to bad boys, thinking they can change and help them, like they try to do in movies. And as usual, the boy either ends up killing others and finally himself, or he leaves the woman that so desperately wanted him near.

Maybe it was the way he acted around me. So unlike himself, he was more raw, and gentle in his own way. He wouldn't cuddle with me, or whisper sweet things in my ear. He couldn't count my freckles for I had none. But he would gaze at me when he thought I didn't notice, and when I couldn't stand being scrutinized anymore, I would glance his way, and he would hastily avert his eyes, his Adam's Apple bob up and down from gulping. And the way he didn't even know he was incredibly sweet and in a way, shy. His meticulously parted hair was all awry, his chest heaving up and down, his eyes peacefully fluttering, the moon reflecting off his brown orbs. No, that can't be the reason.

Maybe I truly am a dumbass.

She's staring at the ceiling, just like I do every night. I'm really curious as to what she's thinking. I hope she's thinking about me. But, wishes don't come true, so might as well wish for something you want anyway. Her skin has goose bumps. I hope they're because of me. This is the first time in a really long time that we've been together again, and it feels completely new. I was surprised when I felt my own pulse, for I feel that half the time I'm alive, I can't hear it, unless someone scares me really good. Ever so slowly, her eyes start to droop, and then her head shifts to the side, her hands growing slack. I find that soothing, watching her sharp and calculating face turn into a comfortable small smile, her lips slightly parted. I lean into her, and kiss her tenderly, careful not to wake her.

As I pull away, I get up out of bed. I have no memory of how we got here. As my back is turned against her, I look at the full moon, and find that kind of creepy. Are there going to be werewolves? That is not what I should be thinking when I'm supposed to be sad. I don't know whether to leave or stay. If I stay, she'll leave me-I'm certain of it. If I leave, she'll be sad, which I don't want. I don't really care about myself when I'm around her. Well, maybe a little bit about me. I decide to compromise. I'll dress, and when she wakes up, and decides to leave, I'll just say I was about to leave. And if she decides to stay-which I doubt will happen-then I could say I was…cold or something. I decide only to put on pants and a shirt, and head to my desk, where I keep pictures of my mother in the left drawer, buried deep beneath files he hadn't read through, and ideas that had been abandoned. Amelia "Misty" Bass had Bette Davis eyes, Vivien Leigh's innocence, Marlene Dietrich's seductiveness and Audrey Hepburn's sophisticated ways. I had no idea where the depression came from, though.

My eyes are starting to feel droopy as well, so I rest my head on my laptop. Before I drift off to sleep, I almost drunkenly say, "I love you, Blair."

I wait for her response, just to see if she's really asleep. Good, she is.

"Oh, that's great."

My head snaps up so quickly, I get whiplash. "My God, Blair. You're awake?" I stand up, ready to face any ridicule. It's easy to walk out of her life a second time. Well, no it's not, but he can take a challenge.

"With that kiss, it's hard not to be awake." She laughed a little.

I break out into a smile, which I cover up by coughing. I walk closer, and she covers herself up by pulling the covers up to her shoulders. I stop, in case it makes her feel uncomfortable.

With the covers up to my shoulders, I still feel exposed, as if Chuck had x-ray vision. Which I certainly hope he did not have, for I was still stark naked. He just looks at me, and doesn't move. I look over his shoulder, and he sighs. I decide to let him on the bed, and he crawls over my legs, and snuggles in deep inside the covers. Without warning, I dip my head down towards his, and kiss him deeply. I breathe in his scent, even if it smells like smoke. My hand lets go of the duvet, and travels to his arm, and I hold on to him. It's just subconscious, it feels like the right thing to do, and it comes naturally to both of us, I suppose. Eventually, he responds, and I feel happy. Truly happy.

I smile as I stop kissing him. "You dumb shit."

He smiles as he says, "You spoiled brat."

As we lay there, I think that we can coexist after all. Maybe with a little restraint, I'll fight the urge to gouge his eyes out the next time he peers at some other girl.

La fin

A/N~ So, yeah. This is so sad! I'm finished! No more! Fini! But, I like the ending. Do you? (uh oh, you know what that means!) Please, I'm lonely, give me some spare thoughts. .....or change, I'm a starving genious author. :D Maybe I'll do like an epilogue or something....but I have no ideas(and no drive) so, yeah. If you reveiw, then it's a different story altogether. Hmm, i'm thinking a wedding or something. GROUP BRAINSTORM, MY FAVORITE! Spit out some ideas for your old pal, Rosalyn.