Blair was pacing the empty van der Woodsen foyer; her mind derailing into hysterics, and it'd only delve into homicidal rage if all semblance of control she had on the situation managed to escape from her death-claw grasp. And that was not a failure she was willing to live with, not when it was Dan Humphrey who had the chance to seize the upper hand. She played for keeps, and that wasn't going to change now. Blair Waldorf was not going to change—she refused to.
She went the window and peered out at the busy street below. Counting back from 20 she consciously stilled her thoughts; she wasn't out of this yet.
-―-―――
Five minutes had come and gone and Dan hadn't made his way up the stairs yet. He could tell himself that it was for Blair, she wanted everything timed out and strategized, well she was getting it. Mostly, though, she'd disrupted him mid-motion and now he didn't have the conviction to follow-through. He almost laughed, all the plans and ruminations he came up with regarding Blair Waldorf were instantly null when called into action. Dan was like a deer caught in the headlights when it came to the predatory gaze of one Upper East Side brunette.
He shook his head and marched forward. He wasn't going to gain anything by stall tactics; there was no anticipating where any of his and Blair's interactions would lead. There was no predicting any dealings with Blair Waldorf. She was an enigma he never expected to unravel, and he didn't really want to. She could have her secrets everyone was entitled to them; he just wanted to retain his ticket of admittance. Dan was enthralled, long past the point of return, and he couldn't say he regretted the occurrence.
-―-―――
"It's you and me, Blair. I need you. I'll always need you." Chuck's eyes had born into her then, such a gaze always made her wonder if he had access to her soul. He always had a way of caging her, making her feel as though she was exposed to the bone. Sometimes she liked that feeling of recognition, knowing where she stood. Not tonight.
Tonight she wanted to remain covered, sheltered.
His hands were clasped at her shoulders, and he pulled her to him. They were cheek to cheek then nose to nose.
Blair jerked back. "I can't."
"I want you, Blair."
"Get some sleep, Chuck. I'll listen to the rest when you're ready. It's enough for one night."
He gathered his jacket in a fist before putting it back on. He faced her then, his voice monotone: "Don't want to inconvenience you any longer, I'll return tomorrow. Thanks for lending an ear. You're always there for me, Blair. Thank you.'
She'd walked him to the door, but he'd twisted back and stared at her. She was frozen. There she was all over again: stripped and divulged.
"I kissed someone." Then she closed the door on him.
-―-―――
The words had left Dan's mouth, he'd said it, and he was still left standing. The world hadn't imploded, and Blair Waldorf hadn't thrown him out of her penthouse. More so, she had accepted his suggestion of 'just one kiss.'
"So?" There had been a challenge there, another opportunity for either of them to turn back around and return to their oppositional ranks.
"So." Blair's reticence faded away, replaced by expectance.
If this had been anyone else's story, if Dan and Blair weren't the protagonists, Dan would have kissed Blair and everything would've been set in motion. Awakened feelings, fairytale retellings, movie endings—it wasn't going to be that easy. This was Dan Humphrey and Blair Waldorf, and neither was going under without a fight. Not all fights were big, showy productions but that didn't negate the reality of it. Dan who until recently had only a morbid curiosity when it came to all things Blair; Blair who barely suppressed her aversion these four years. She was absolutely ruthless when push came to shove and that could be downright terrifying; he refused to be hedged off and wouldn't buy into her pretense—this perplexed Blair.
Aside from the trivial they only crossed paths in times of need: when Dan toyed with his typically unseen dark-side, and when Dan was the only one to break through the mine-field that was Blair's being. The status quo worked for both sides, Dan could return to his loft in Brooklyn and tell himself he hadn't really changed… it began and ended with Blair Waldorf, subtract her from the equation and it'd all fall by the wayside. She could allow the Brooklynite one… or two redeeming qualities, he was human after all and there were far more important things to dwell over.
Had time stopped? They both just stood there and… nothing.
"Oh, for crying out loud Humphrey," why should she have to wait? For someone like Blair Waldorf where societal roles meant everything there was undoubtedly the unwritten rule that girls were pursued by boys and that was that. However, Waldorf-Humphrey had never played by the rules and that wasn't going to amend itself now.
In one fell swoop she had tugged him to her, her hands buried in his collar, and they clashed together. If clashed meant seamlessly melded together, yes they clashed. Irrefutably. Their lips were pressed together and Blair loosened her hold on him, slightly. Her hands shifted instead to his shoulders, and Dan's right hand clutched her at the narrow of her waist. The barricade may have weakened but was still in place; her hands and arms divided them still. His other hand slid behind her neck, his fingers burrowed into her hair. Her hands almost rose further.