A/N: I am feeling just lovely after a week of vacation at the lake, so I ended up writing not one, but two chapters for you! Does this mean double the reviews? You know you love me ;)

Chapter 7: Little Hell

What if everything's just the way that it will be?
Could it be that I am meant to cause you all this grief?
My warship's a-lying off the coast of your delicate heart,
And my aim is steady and true as it's been right from the start.
-"Little Hell" City and Colour

Serena's eyes were glazed over, and she felt them starting to flutter to a close as the opera stretched on. While she didn't want to get caught dozing during the opera, Blair had her eyes shut, so what was the harm? No one would be able to tell the difference. But just as Serena made her decision, she was jolted by a thunderous wave of applause through the theatre. Blair's face was plastered with a smile, and her dainty hands clapped in a strict, polite rhythm. Serena rolled her eyes and joined in with the rolling thunder of applause, kicking one leg over the other and defying protocol by remaining seated during the standing ovation. But when she felt Blair's smoldering glare burning holes in her back, she grudgingly stood with the rest of the Manhattan socialites and sighed, clapping for a spectacle she had so not enjoyed.

Ten minutes and a quick sprint away from an infatuated, burgundy-suited, doorman later, and Serena had finally reached the outside of the theatre. The air smelled like cigarettes, trash, and greasy street food, but given the choice, she'd choose it over the overly-perfumed, stuffy air of the theatre every time. She glanced over her shoulder to ask Blair if she wanted to stop for gelato on the way home (she was really craving a few scoops of raspberry from Il Laboratorio del Gelato), and unlike most nights, she was not going to take no for an answer. She had sat through an entire overly dramatic opera just for Blair, and her ears were still ringing from the soprano's ridiculously high and screechy final note. The least Blair could do was eat some gelato. No, not even that. All she had to do was watch as Serena stuffed her face with the creamy dessert. But when Serena swiftly turned in Blair's direction, flicking both her swishy, mermaid-like aqua colored gown and her golden locks aside in the process, she realized that her best friend was not on her heel as she had expected. Oh God, thought Serena, her mind racing. Chuck…

...

"Lilly?"

"Blair?"

"What are you doing here?" both said at once, concerned blue eyes peering into slightly puzzled brown ones.

"Serena and I came together, me out of love for the theatre, and her out of love for me," Blair answered with a grin. "I wish she had told me you were coming, because then I wouldn't have made her miserable by accompanying me. Plus, I'm sure you were much less disruptive during the performance."

"That sounds like Serena," said Lilly, in a way she hoped shielded the slightly anxious edge to her voice. She laughed softly, nodding and adjusting her already perfectly aligned diamond necklace instinctively. "It was lovely seeing you Blair," she continued, her words coming out more rapidly as she became aware that Chuck would be back with their flutes of champagnes in his hands at any second. "And while I wish it didn't have to be so brief, unfortunately, I simply must – "

"Chuck," Blair breathed. Lilly placed a graceful white hand on her forehead and sighed. It appeared she was too late to prevent their sighting, but then again, perhaps she would have only been delaying the inevitable anyway.

"I'll just leave you two to speak," she said quietly, not expecting either to cast an eye in her direction. She ducked out of the way, but not before grabbing one of the flutes of bubbly, gold liquid out of Chuck's firm grasp. "Thank goodness for alcohol," she murmured in a voice so low it was incomprehensible to both Blair and her stepson. She subtly tipped the crystal in their direction. "Liquid luck from me to you." And with that, she took a few uncharacteristically large gulps and drained the entire contents of the glass.

"Chuck," Blair said again, louder this time. "I didn't know you were going to be here." She was noticeably fidgety in her glittering black Valentino and pulled at her glossy curls as she spoke. Though the dress fit her like a glove, it suddenly felt like it was constricting her airways, and she quivered as a bead of sweat slithered, serpent-like, down her neck.

"I didn't know you were going to be here either," he answered, his jaw clenched as he attempted to appear nonchalant. But this was Blair. He was sure she could see right through his flimsy façade, his lame attempt at pretending like she was just another person to him, like she wasn't…her. He felt his hands start to get clammy and realized they were shining with perspiration, so he immediately shoved them into his pockets where they only proceeded to sweat even more. "Well, at least not until I showed up at Lilly's and Serena looked about ready to strangle me with my scarf." He smirked, hoping to elicit at least a small smile in return and was pleasantly surprised when Blair giggled at his remark.

"Yes, she has been quite protective of me these days," Blair admitted. "Though I don't think Serena would be willing to attempt snatching that J Press off your neck in order to strangle you. You're far more protective of that thing than she is of me." Chuck grinned.

"True. But I seem to remember it looked pretty good on you, too."

"I look good in everything, Bass," said Blair, throwing him a snooty look and shaking out her coffee colored ringlets in disdain.

"You don't do yourself justice, Waldorf. You look incredible in anything. Or nothing," he added in a low drawl, wondering if she would react negatively to sexual jokes when their interaction still felt so new, so raw, despite its familiarity. It was like relearning how to swim after living in the middle of the desert for a time. While you once crashed through the bottomless blue depths of the ocean comfortably, now it appears ominous and formidable, and even a tiny wave's white foam softly curling around your feet can feel dangerous.

"Alright, enough with the flattery." Blair rolled her eyes even though her heart swelled as it always did when Chuck complimented her so genuinely. Though she didn't miss the sexual innuendo, she didn't mind it. This was Chuck after all. He had rarely gotten through a conversation without using one since the sixth grade and since she knew there were still feelings weighing down the air around them, anything that lifted at least a little bit of the weight was welcome. "I actually wanted to thank you."

"For?"

"The peonies, obviously. 730, though?"

"You mean you don't understand?" Chuck asked in surprise. "I must say, Waldorf, I'm disappointed. I thought you'd know the reason by now." He raised a single eyebrow in question. How could she not have figured it out?

"Oh please, Bass. It means two years, obviously."

"Yes," Chuck confirmed, relieved that Blair got his intended meaning. "But if you understand, then why did you ask about the number?"

"Because," Blair sighed, feeling another two drops of sweat crawling down her neck and criss-crossing down her back until finally reaching their destination - the smooth folds of her gown's shimmery onyx fabric. "While I understand the obvious meaning, the two years, I was wondering if there was something else behind that." Chuck's other brow shot up. He hadn't planned on her asking him about the flowers so soon. No, scratch that. He hadn't even gotten so far as to consider the possibility that she would ask about the meaning at all. So instead of opening his mouth and allowing his words to trip over themselves in confusion, he parroted her question back to her, hoping she might offer some insight into what she expected him to say.

"Something else?"

Unfortunately, she responded as simply as possible.

"Yes."

"Well," he began, "I uh – "

"Blair!" Serena linked her arm through Blair's as soon as she reached her. Though the gesture was usually affectionate and friendly, this time, Serena's arm appeared more like a rigid metal cuff, keeping Blair firmly locked to her side. "There you are! We should really get going, don't you think?" Without waiting for an answer, Serena continued babbling, her fake bubbly demeanor overflowing in false positivity. "We really need to get some gelato, because I am starving!" Blair teetered unsteadily on her five-inch Louboutins as Serena rocketed her around. "Bye Chuck!" Serena called, lifting a manicured hand for a weak goodbye offering as she dragged Blair away.

Gossip Girl: Seems like B is in for an early exit from the opera. But why isn't her king chasing after his Queen B? It seems this fairytale romance will never reach its "happily ever after." You know you love me.

There's a degree of difficulty in dealing with me.
From my haunted past comes a daunting task of living through memories.
If we could just hang a mirror on the bedroom wall
Stare into the past, and forget it all...