A/N: Do not adjust your screen, this is an If Only update in less than six weeks after the last one. -lol- I told you guys I had a lot of plans for this, right? I had to update soon. Besides, I think that I'm saving a few of you from jumping outta windows by updating this fast. :D
Something that I need to address is the growing unrest at the episode I'm in right now. Many of you are begging me not to let Hi! Society end the same as it did on the show. This story is about the difference in CB's relationship had one thing gone differently that first night, so there are differences. BUT I'm not changing the story completely. Please trust me to make changes to the story that I think are plausible and will give our beloved couple a firm foundation for the future. Chances are, I hated the same things you did about certain episodes, so please don't jump story if something doesn't go the happy way. Waldass will get their happy here... but this story has a long way to go.
With that said, I hope you enjoy this update. I actually did reply to my reviews this time, after four chapters or so of being too busy to do anything other than write, but I wanted to thank each and every one of you for taking the time to let me know how panicked you are or how much you love my characterizations or my story. It means more than you will ever know.
Special thanks to: LynniePearl for doing pretty much nothing but fainting and drooling and raving over her little sneak preview. Even though she really didn't have to do much, I still love her for easing my fears. -hugs- You rock, girl.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl's Chuck Bass or Blair Waldorf... I just like to put words into their mouths for no other reward than my personal enjoyment.
This chapter gets a little -erm- racy at the end, so please proceed with caution.
If Only
Chapter 20
"Boomerang"
Watching as the elevator doors closed in front of him, Chuck released the breath that he was holding. He'd been numb when he flew from Blair's room, down the stairs, and pressed the button to call the elevator, but he'd still been holding on to the hope that she would follow him.
If there was anything that Blair Waldorf knew how to do, it was put up a fight.
He'd expected her to try to stop him from leaving the conflict; the fact that she hadn't left him utterly confused, especially since he had no idea how the fight had gotten so out of control. She'd been alarmingly vicious, cutting him with words that hurt him at a depth only she would understand.
It was a punishment he hadn't earned and Blair had always been just in her penalization.
He'd seen the shrewd gleam in her eyes just now, when she'd driven the knife into his chest with words that he knew she didn't mean. It was like all she cared about was proving her point, making him suffer for defying her.
That wasn't the Blair that he'd fallen in love with; there was something wrong.
And he'd believed she would realize her mistake fast enough to stop him from leaving. He'd been depending on it, actually.
Now he was slumped against the seat in his limo, leaving her building and wanting nothing more than to melt right through the floor. He'd been numb with disbelief, secure in the fact that she hadn't meant to say that she wanted Nate, but now the pain overwhelmed him.
Each second brought the hurtful knowledge of her choice banging into his head, cracking his heart a little more with each blow. When it finally shattered, he choked back a sob, but remained in control.
He wasn't going to cry about this. Chuck Bass doesn't cry.
Especially over a girl.
No girl had the right to cause him tears; not even the only one to ever dig deep enough to find his heart. To make it beat for her. The only girl to ever make him feel.
What was the point in loving someone if they were only going to hurt you?
If this was even love...
Arriving at his suite, all he wanted to do was crawl into a bottle of scotch and drown in that numbness he was beginning to miss. He'd made a name for himself, had a reputation for being aloof and unfeeling, yet couldn't push thoughts of Blair and what losing her felt like from his mind.
He made it as far as his bed, which just so happened to be the opposite direction of the bar, and collapsed on it. Maybe some sleep would make the wound in his chest disappear; the one that felt like it was gaping open and attracting flies.
The one that used to house his heart.
When Chuck's eyes fluttered open an hour later, the bliss of dream-less sleep was wiped away. It was replaced by the anguish of memories that flooded to the surface when he saw that Blair was lying next to him.
She must have used her key, let herself in while he slept, and then fallen asleep waiting for him to wake.
Laying on her side, she was curled up tightly, arms hugging her chest, and the pillow she was laying on was darkened by tears. Like she cried herself to sleep watching him rest.
She looked like a wreck.
Even though she'd hurt him immensely, he could feel the scattered shards of his heart beginning to inch themselves back toward each other. Like just the thought that she'd regretted her actions could heal him.
He's so in love with this woman. There's just no denying it anymore.
Steeling himself for the conversation that he knew was to come, he resolved to make her work for his forgiveness; even if he was sure she'd already been exonerated. He wouldn't acknowledge that for fact until he'd heard her explanation.
She owed him that much after the roller-coaster of turmoil he'd been through because of her mood swing.
Turned onto his back, he waited silently for her to wake, staring at the ceiling above him as his heart slowly started to knit itself back together.
All it took was a touch of her hand and he was suddenly whole again.
"Chuck?" Blair's voice was soft and timid, her hand just resting on his forearm where it was burning life back into him.
He couldn't answer her. Not just because he told himself that he wouldn't make this easy on her, but because he literally couldn't find his voice. The realization of how vast her power over him actually was had stolen his breath.
There was a rustling from where she lay, and suddenly she was sitting next to him, trying to look him in the eye. If their gazes met, he would lose his ability to resist, he knew he would.
So he turned his head away, toward the wall.
This time, she choked on tears that escaped with his name. "Chuck!" Her hand moved from his arm to his jaw, "Please look at me?"
The tears in her voice were wearing through his defenses, making him long to soothe her fears. It wouldn't be long before he gave into them, but she'd have to go further, fight harder.
If she could fight to hurt him, it was only right she fight to end her own pain.
The hand that was on his jaw was joined by another and they firmly, but gently, turned his head toward hers. His eyes had fallen closed at the touch, the warm, slender fingers cradling his face and the obvious care behind their movements caressing his mending heart.
Frustration and desperation colored her voice when she demanded softly, "Look. At. Me."
Chuck took a breath, accepted his fated fall back into the depths of her eyes, and opened his own.
Blair had bribed a Cabby to get her to The Palace as fast as humanly possible. She'd hit the close door button on the elevator before a little old lady could hobble toward it because she couldn't wait.
And he'd been asleep.
They'd had their first fight as a couple. Their first fight ever...
And he'd fallen asleep.
If she wasn't so suddenly tired herself, she would have slapped him awake right then. A little nap couldn't hurt her, though, so she'd cried the tears that hadn't stopped since he left her penthouse and fallen asleep right next to him.
Then he'd woken and refused to speak.
And she'd begged.
Blair Waldorf had begged him to look at her, to open his eyes, to see what she'd done to herself by hurting him...
And now she couldn't speak.
She had no idea what to say to him, how to explain her outburst, to excuse her behavior, or to apologize for her strange break in composure over something she didn't even understand. All she could do was look into his eyes and see the pain she'd caused.
For once in her life she could actually tell that Chuck Bass had feelings, had them for her, and it stole the breath from her throat. It was like dunking her head in a vat of Vodka; the aroma of something this strong could make you gasp and struggle to breathe even after coming up for air.
He was hurt and she had no idea how to repair the damage.
And he was waiting for her to try.
"Chuck, I..." her voice cracked, "I didn't mean it." She felt a tear run down her face, "It's not true."
He didn't have to speak for her to know what his question would be; his eyes asked why she'd said it. His mouth stayed closed, his facial expression not one of anger but of resignation; obviously he was going to make her earn his responses and she didn't blame him. If it were the other way around, she'd do the same.
Breathing in on a sob, she admitted, "I told the most ridiculous lie and I don't know why I did it." Smoothing the backs of her fingers up and down his cheeks, she added, "Or why you would even believe such nonsense."
Something flashed in the hazel irises meeting her stare, and he spat, "I didn't believe you, but I wasn't going to stand there and take any more abuse." Propping himself up on his elbows, he continued, "You obviously had an ax to grind and I was the closest target. All I did was ask you to explain why you insisted on keeping me hidden when you claimed to care about what we had." His gaze shifted sideways, directing his next words over his shoulder, "Why you'd chosen to be presented to society beside your past instead of your future."
With a sob, she collapsed down onto his chest, her hands clutching his shirt now, anchoring herself against floating away in relief. Even if he was cross with her, at least he was talking now; the sigh her heart heaved made it feel lighter.
Burying her face into his chest, she explained, "I wanted it to be you, Chuck."
He was suddenly frozen solid; "What?"
"I..." she sniffled, "I never said anything because I didn't want to be the reason you lost Nate. It was never my intention to hide you like I was ashamed, I just wanted to wait until you were ready." Her fingers popped the top three buttons open on his shirt and spread the material so that her face could rest against the skin at the hollow of his throat. "I'm sorry you thought that..."
"...That you wanted to keep him as an option? That you were sure we'd fail? That you didn't want all of Manhattan to see you presented on the arm of New Money Chuck Bass?" He spoke with such disgust in his voice, such embarrassed ire, that she pulled her face up and met his gaze again.
He obviously had no idea how she felt for him, no clue how close she was to being irrevocably in love with him.
"I wanted to keep the peace between you and the friend you consider a brother." She cupped his face, finishing softly, "Nothing more."
There was understanding in his eyes for a second, before they turned wary again; "Then what happened earlier?"
"You wouldn't let me explain and I defended myself." Touching her forehead to his, she allowed her breath to mingle with his, "You know, better than anyone, how I get when I feel threatened." Kissing him softly, she whispered, "I'm sorry."
It was the only explanation that she could come up with that made any sense to her... and even that one didn't begin to make her outburst earlier make sense. She could only hope it would be enough for him. If he accepted that, then she could figure out the whole reason later.
She almost cried in liberation when he laid himself down, both of them down, to wrap his arms around her, pulling her closer as his lips captured her own. Forgiveness was being etched into the walls of her mouth and the sinews of her tongue.
They were suddenly back to this afternoon, before the fight, and it was go time. Only now, unlike earlier, she was in desperate need of his touch, to know that they were no longer broken; she'd thought that she'd pushed him away forever.
He rolled them over, laying her down gently with ease, as she removed his shirt. Her outfit was being unfastened, fabric being peeled away from her skin to leave her in her bra, underwear, and tights. Urgency was apparent in each touch of his hands, his fingers kneading her thighs as he pulled the red stockings down her legs.
With him lying between her thighs, his long, lean body pressed against her, her fingers started to fumble in anticipation. Somehow her senses felt heightened; it was more difficult to tame the urgency long enough to get a grip on his pants. She recovered quickly enough and soon they were separated by the thin fabric of their undergarments.
His mouth left hers to scrape teeth down the line of her jaw, down her neck to clamp his lips down on her pulse-point and suck hard. Her hips rose and arched upward into him, nails running down his back to leave faint red scratches that would quickly fade.
She heard his grunt of satisfaction at her reaction and her hands traveled down under the waistband of his boxers to push them past his hips and thighs, digging her nails into his ass to pull his nakedness closer. This made him tear the seam holding the side of her panties closed and pull the ruined garment away before tossing them across the room.
Hardened flesh was straining against her soft, open body, her skin was screaming with the need to connect with him again, so she grabbed his shaft, intent on guiding him inside her.
Yearning for two to become one as soon as possible, because she didn't think she could wait any longer.
Her hormones were raging, lust racing through her veins, but his hand on her hip, lightly guiding her away, broke through her thoughts. When he lifted his hand, she saw the still wrapped condom between his fingers.
Resting her head against his shoulder, breathing deeply while waiting for him to take the precaution, she couldn't believe it. She almost taken him inside without protecting herself.
What the hell was wrong with her today?
All thoughts of anything but fulfillment and completion flew from her mind when he finally buried himself inside her. They coupled clumsily and quickly, impatient and desperate for the completion of coming together; it was only moments before a supernova burst inside of them and he collapsed.
Her heart was pounding out of her chest, her arms wound around him, holding him where his body rested against her, inside of her. Each inch of their separate bodies was pressed together and she could feel his heart beating as erratically as her own.
This was the moment that she could finally admit to herself that this was it. These two bodies were whole together, where they both belonged. Right now.
They were connected to each other and no fight, no misunderstanding was going to change that. Not that she intended to allow another one to occur; she didn't think she could handle another painful battle such as this had been.
There wasn't going to be a way to hide it much longer and it was clear that hiding was the last thing either of them ever wanted to do again. Society's opinion, Constance or St. Jude's opinion, Gossip Girl's opinion be damned.
It was time to come up with a plan for telling Nate.
A/N: Well, that's another chapter up and out! Please let me know what you thought!