Trigger Warning for Sensitive Content: This chapter touches on Blair's Eating Disorder.
Scrutinising her reflection in the mirror, Blair's bloodshot eyes and blistered lips stared back at her accusingly.
As soon as she had returned to the ballroom, a feeling of nausea hit her and she found herself rushing to the bathroom.
Unlike before, Blair hadn't forced herself to purge.
The familiar physical release that came with emptying herself completely was something she had almost trained herself out of seeking after months of therapy. But the act of vomiting, though unpleasant, brought a strange sense of solace that Blair hadn't truly felt in weeks...
As the nausea subsided, Blair's racing heart began to steady, and her thoughts slowly regained clarity.
Nate's feeble attempts at an explanation and Serena's hurried apologies continued to echo in Blair's ears, but their remorse had fallen disappointingly short of what she had needed to hear.
Seeing her best friend and her boyfriend gasping and moaning and impossibly entwined with one another had sent Blair spiralling; tears falling, chest tightening, desperate for oxygen and desperate for control.
Control. Inevitably, it always came back to a need for control for Blair. Control and stability.
She leaned against the cool marble sink, watching as her hands continued to tremble. The burn of alcohol and vomit lingered in the back of her throat—shameful, reproachful and impossible to ignore.
Suddenly, her eyes widened.
Blair should have known she was being watched before their eyes met in the mirror.
His dark eyebrows raised. Her spine straightened. He was trying to read her. She didn't want him to.
A silent battle of wills ensued.
Instinctively, Blair attempted to school her features into the very picture of composure. The corner of her lips twisted into a humorless smile as she turned to address him.
"I had heard that you tend to lurk in the ladies' room, Bass."
Chuck smirked lazily. "Usually with more nefarious intentions, I assure you."
"Always the voyeur..."
"You know how I love a show."
Blair could feel the weight of his gaze upon her. His presence suffocated the already tense air in the bathroom. As always, Chuck seemed to take up more than his fair share of the oxygen available.
"What do you want, Chuck?", Blair asked eventually, her voice laced with a coldness that she hoped would keep him at bay.
She could handle it. She could handle all of it. Alone.
Chuck's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and something else that Blair couldn't quite decipher.
Clearly, he wasn't going anywhere...
"Well, it seems I've stumbled upon a rare moment of vulnerability from the one and only Blair Waldorf," he sneered.
Blair's grip on the sink behind her tightened, her knuckles turning white. She hated how effortlessly Chuck could unravel her, how he always seemed to know exactly which buttons to push to get a rise out of her.
"Save your snark for someone who actually cares, Chuck," Blair retorted sharply, her voice betraying her by cracking.
She observed him keenly, hoping fruitlessly that he hadn't noticed.
Chuck's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them.
He stepped closer, his solid frame casting a shadow over her.
"You know, Blair, you can pretend all you want, but I see right through you," he said, his voice low and filled with a strange mix of concern and something else Blair couldn't quite decipher.
A challenge perhaps?
Blair felt her cheeks flush involuntarily as they circled one another, mentally matching stride for stride as they always did.
There was something exposing about the way Chuck looked at her, and although it was the last thing she wanted, Blair couldn't look away.
Blair knew that Chuck intimidated most of the girls at Constance, and with good reason too. What Chuck Bass wanted, he usually got—or at least, that's what he wanted people to believe.
Blair knew better.
From a young age, Blair had seen his desperate attempts to gain Bart's approval. She remembered the countless hours that a five year old Chuck had spent perfecting his bow tie in front of the mirror, hoping to impress his father with his maturity. Blair had been there for Chuck during all the unnoticed birthdays, silently supporting him alongside Nate and Serena with classic gangster movie marathons and Polish Pastries from Dorota.
Blair had even been there with Nate to haul Chuck's drugged drunken ass out of the snow after he, Serena and Georgina Sparks had somehow decided that it was a good idea to go naked sledding during a school trip to Switzerland in the seventh grade.
She had stayed even when Bart had arrived on the Basses private jet, had been there to give Chuck an encouraging nod while Nate clapped him comfortingly on the back as the three young teenagers sat in a row watching a scowling Bart sign a check to pass along to their disgruntled headmistress.
In turn, Blair had relied on Chuck's presence more times than she could count. He was the first person she called on nights when Serena was missing, and Chuck had stood beside her on the sidelines, cold, bleary-eyed and hungover, during more than half of Nate's lacrosse games last season.
When the Waldorf penthouse was empty, and Blair insisted she was fine staying home alone, Chuck was always ready on the other end of the line to distract Blair from the silence with scandalous tales and salacious stories about their fellow students at Constance and St. Jude's. These stories would later serve as the perfect ammunition against her enemies if they dared to cross her.
They relied on each other, all four of them. They were a family. Chuck may have boasted about his ability to see right through Blair, but she could see him just as clearly.
She stared him down defiantly.
"What are you doing here, Chuck?"
"I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Blair scoffed, her voice dripping with bitterness. "How noble..."
Chuck smirked almost affectionately. "Only for you, Waldorf."
Blair's breath caught in her throat as she looked into Chuck's eyes, seeing a glimmer of genuine concern that never failed to take her aback on the rare occasions she saw it.
For a moment, she considered letting him in, allowing herself to lean on Chuck in the absence of Serena and Nate, as she did on those solitary nights in her family's penthouse.
But then, the memory of what happened when she trusted people resurfaced, and she released the edge of the sink, stepping away from him.
With a forced smile, Blair turned towards the door, ready to leave the bathroom and the night's humilating events far behind her. But before she could take a step, Chuck's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.
"Blair," he said, his voice softer now, devoid of its usual arrogance. "Talk to me."
Blair's eyes widened in surprise as she felt Chuck's fingers close around on her wrist. She turned to face him, a new challenging light flickering in her gaze.
"How long have Nate and Serena been seeing each other?", she asked, almost certain that while it was highly unlikely Nate would be able to keep a secret from her, he'd never manage to keep one from Chuck.
Chuck glanced at his Rolex nonchalantly. "As far as I know...", he replied, raising an eyebrow. "A little under an hour..."
"Did they leave together?"
He seemed to contemplate her question for a moment, knowing he was driving her insane with suspense. Classic Chuck...
"No."
Blair's eyes narrowed, studying Chuck's face for any signs of deception. "Are you absolutely sure?"
He nodded curtly. "I put them into separate cabs myself."
For a moment, Blair almost felt hopeful.
If tonight truly had been a one-time mistake and both Nate and Serena had chosen to part ways afterwards, Blair couldn't help but wonder if she could salvage her relationships with both of them.
After all, Serena had been her best friend since they were just four years old, and Nate had been her boyfriend since they were twelve.
Surely, bonds like those were unbreakable.
But then, the image of Nate and Serena entwined in each other's arms flooded Blair's mind once again.
The memory loomed over her. Blair saw their matching flushed faces, long tangled limbs bronzed from a summer spent in the Hampton's sun and dishevelled evening attire.
Could she truly move past it all?
"I hate this," Blair admitted eventually, unable to stop the words as soon as they started to spill out. "I hate all of this. I hate Serena for having sex with Nate, and I hate Nate for wanting her more than—", her voice trailed off, not wanting to say it.
Chuck finished her thought for her. "More than he's ever wanted you."
Blair frowned, staring daggers—that level of honesty wasn't appreciated. "How dare you!"
Chuck shrugged as though it were obvious. "Blair, you guys have been dating since the seventh grade and neither of you have had any inclination to take things further than second base—"
Blair opened her mouth to protest, angry that Chuck knew such intimate details about her and Nate's relationship even if Serena had known them all along too.
"—there's clearly no spark..."
Blair was seething with anger as Chuck continued to push her buttons.
"You don't know anything about Nate and me," she retorted, her voice dripping with venom. "We have plenty of spark!"
Chuck raised an eyebrow, unfazed by Blair's outburst. "Actions speak louder than words, Blair. And the fact that Nathaniel chose Serena over you speaks volumes."
There it was; the truth unvarnished.
Eyes narrowing further, Blair's anger now mixed with a tinge of hurt. Chuck's words cut deep, reminding her of the insecurities she had tried so hard to bury—the insecurities that had been so brutally exposed due to Nate and Serena's betrayal.
Blair remembered how Nate's eyes had lingered on Serena as she had tried to reassure her that their actions meant nothing. Blair had seen how heartbroken Nate had looked afterwards, almost more upset that Serena regretted their encounter than he was that his own girlfriend had discovered it. The memory made Blair taste bile.
Trying to decode him as he did her, Blair studied Chuck intently.
Despite his constant teasing about her idealistic perspective on life, Blair knew that Chuck possessed a similar inclination to fabricate his own facades. In fact, his existence was one of carefully cultivated disillusion.
Blair clenched her fists, trying to control her temper.
Even though she knew Chuck was just trying to provoke her, his words cut deep. And if he knew exactly where to press to find bruises, so did she...
Blair took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before responding. "You may think you know everything, Chuck, but you don't know the first thing about love or loyalty," she shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. "I doubt you ever will."
Blair was accustomed to seeing a myriad of expressions in his coppery eyes, ranging from annoyance to amusement and respect to anger.
Chuck was impossible to look away from in moments like these, a kaleidoscope of dark scattered fragments unabashedly on display, mirroring the hidden pieces of herself.
Blair knew she should pull away, put some distance between them, but she found herself rooted to the spot, unable to tear her gaze away from him.
For a fleeting moment, a flicker of pain crossed Chuck's features, as if Blair's words had struck a nerve. But he quickly masked it with a sneer.
"What about you? Blair Waldorf; the virgin queen? Married and monogamous at fifteen? Nate's future first lady when his grandfather pushes him into politics one day?"
He scoffed. "It was never going to work, Blair. That's not you!"
Blair didn't like to be thwarted, and she certainly did not enjoy admitting that she might not be able to arrange her world and the people inhabiting it to her satisfaction. She had always strived for perfection, for stability, and yet here she was, faced with the reality that her carefully constructed world was crumbling around her.
"Why?"
Chuck smirked. "Because you're Blair Waldorf, that's why."
"Becuase I'm Blair Waldorf?", Blair asked incredulously.
Chuck's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unexpected and difficult to decipher his face.
Was that pride?
After all their squabbling, the look should have surprised Blair but it didn't. If anything, it was a testament to how effortlessly she and Chuck could twist each other's emotions.
"Becuase you're Blair Waldorf."
Blair could feel the heat radiating off his body and he was now close enough that she could feel his breath on her face. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and for once, utterly incapable of conjuring a snarky comeback in his presence.
"Why do you always have to push me, Chuck?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
His gaze bore into hers, a mixture of intensity and something else she couldn't quite place.
Chuck offered her a sly lopsided smile. No one ever took him seriously when he smiled like that, which was, of course, the point.
"Because I'm Chuck Bass..."
Blair rolled her eyes a little impatiently at her friend's familiar punchline, but she felt some of the venom in her veins subside at the familiarity of it all. "That's not a good enough reason."
"Because you want me to", he answered simply. "Admit it, Blair. You like the challenge as much as I do. We're the same that way."
Rather unexpectedly, Blair felt herself being drawn in. Her heart raced in her chest and a sensation of warmth spread through her entire body as she locked eyes with Chuck. Her throat tightened.
"I'm nothing like you."
Chuck only smiled in return, silently calling her bluff.
Her gaze flickered instinctively to his lips, then back up to his eyes. With a slightly shaky hand, Blair reached out to touch his jaw.
She felt Chuck's hooded eyes trace the contours of her face, fixating on her lips as if he was truly seeing her for the first time since entering the bathroom. As they inched closer, his hand found her waist and his grip on her hip tightened, inhaling the scent of gin and vomit that Blair knew clung to her.
"Are you sure?" Chuck's voice was wavered with a strange uncharacteristic vulnerability and uncertainty. It was as if he expected Blair to reject him at any moment.
A heavy, uneasy feeling settled in Blair's stomach.
Was it the lingering pain from Nate and Serena's betrayal? Or was it the fear of Chuck tasting the remnants of gin and vomit on her breath and connecting the dots to her peculiar behavior at the lunch table and her frequent visits to the psychiatrist after school?
Blair couldn't bear the thought of Chuck's pity if he found out about her problem. She doubted that she could even meet his gaze if he didn't look at her like she was the most powerful girl in the world.
Suddenly, the spell was broken.
It was all too much. Chuck was too close, her insides were too raw, and if they continued, Blair wasn't sure where it would lead or if either of them would be able to stop. They would have been no better than Serena or Nate.
So with a jolt, Blair pushed him away.
"I want to go home", she said firmly, sparing them both the inevitable feelings of regret.
Chuck nodded in agreement, his usual cockiness replaced by a somewhat dazed expression.
Rather than being stung by the rejection, he almost looked relieved.
"Let's go."
A/N: Sorry this chapter took a little longer than usual but I had a bit more to iron out with it. I hope you enjoyed this. Thank so much to everyone who has been following this story so far! I love hearing what you guys think xx