Title: The Secret Emotions of Blair Waldorf
Rating: PG 13 for language
Disclaimers: I don't own GG or anything like that – I just love the characters
Summary: As Blair Waldorf thinks back on her life she remember Chuck Bass. Goes into detail on that 'lost' week in the finale until the very end. Spoilers – all of Season 1.
Recommended Songs to listen while reading:
"Come On" by Tegan and Sara, "Die Alone" by Ingrid Michaelson, "Falling for You" by Jem, and "Hold on" by Bif Naked
When Blair Waldorf was seven years old Charles Bass had harshly pulled her curls and stuck his tongue out at her. She disliked him from that moment forth but realized that someone who would be able to cause mayhem without preamble was worth something. So she accepted him since he was Nate's best friend, and the boy did have his uses.
When Blair was eleven years old Chuck Bass offered her a blunt. She was appalled and demanded that Nate stop hanging out with Chuck. Nate shrugged off and ignored her suggestion. Blair figured he had his uses; a very useful tool when dispatching girls that got in her way. Chuck had no morals, no scruples and absolutely no decency. When Chuck was the first to loose his virginity to the skank Georgina Sparks, a small fleeting jealous vibe passed through her. It should've been her and Nate. She ignored his arrogant swagger for as long as she could. Yet before she knew it he walked like that… always.
When Blair was fourteen years old she got into a HUGE fight with Nate since he forgot their anniversary. She told Serena it was over for good between them. She ignored Chuck as he smiled devilishly at her during their 'break-up week'. She was used to his leering looks – what UES girl wasn't? It was also the first time she saw someone having sex. She decided to look for Nate in Chuck's house since he wasn't returning her calls and they had been over long enough in her book. As she walked into Chuck's bedroom she saw Chuck Bass fucking a senior on his four-poster bed. She remembered the way his muscles flexed as he entered the girl over and over, she remembered the moans of pleasure and the way his closed eyes matched the twitching of his jaw. When she squeaked she also saw those previously closed eyes open and fall into horror as he took her in. She turned and ran.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, running after her, with nothing but a bed sheet covering his lower half and a very erect penis.
She was sure her face was the color of a tomato and as much as she wanted to run away; she was transfixed by the sight of the tent in the middle of his body.
His face turned into a slight smirk.
"Interested?" he leered, enjoying her discomfort.
"Ugh, I'm gonna need therapy." She moaned, turning away from him.
"I excel at therapy." He chuckled. She ignored that.
"I'm looking for Nate," she took a deep breath, composing herself and looking at nothing but his face with renewed determination.
"Of course you are, you've been looking for that poor boy all your life," he stated, letting the sheet fall right under his protruding hip bone. She was secretly intrigued about how he would look without the blanket.
Not that she would look, for Christ-sakes!
"Fine, whatever. Go back to your previous activities." She scoffed and turned to leave.
"One day you may not mind me naked so much, Waldorf." He called after her, still enjoying this.
"I'm sure – after my lobotomy!" she called back, closing the door behind her.
She didn't see his serious expression and his sudden need to go back to pounding whoever it was that he was pounding.
When Blair was sixteen years old she gave Charles her virginity. It almost made sense. If it wasn't Nate – who else would it have been? He was different than the last time she had seen him naked. More muscle, more manhood, more hair… everywhere. After they were done, her chest felt like it would blow up any minute and the feel of his leg-hair brushing against her own smooth legs lulled her to temporary sleep. It must have been an hour later when his soft snore woke her. They had ended the night at his suite, after several times in the back of his limo. The clock on his nightstand read 5:15am. She was royally and utterly fucked. No… really. She was absolutely fucked – chucked – blocked…. Yes, with his arms draped protectively over his waist she was blocked from exiting what should've been the most special of all nights. This was a disaster.
In her moment of creativity she attempted to dislodge the sleeping man from on top of her and that's when he moaned and said her name. Her eyes widened as she felt his erection grow once more. This was crazy! How many times could he be back to bat?
His eyes opened and he began kissing her. She would've stopped him. She should've stopped him, slapped him, hit him and insulted him. But she let him kiss her because of what his tongue was doing to her mouth at that moment. Like she was drunk and hazy. He probably got her high. She knew she couldn't trust him.
When he fell asleep the second time, she was able to untangle herself from under him and make it home before Dorota came to wake her. She brushed her teeth seventeen times. She could still taste him.
The night of her birthday Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass cuddled for first time. She would not call it cuddling – but what else would you call it when this guy – this man which you've seen naked more times than your forever-boyfriend – softly runs his hands through your hair and inhales the scent? Cuddling, right? Cuddling. He was cuddling her. So she decided to fuck him until his eyes rolled back and he fell asleep with a satisfied little-boy smile. Her and her wobbly legs made it to her house on time to see Dorota glare distrusting at her direction.
Between classes, not long after that encounter, a strong hand grabbed her and pushed her into a janitorial closet she didn't even know existed before this. And before she knew it, Blair Waldorf was being fucked by Chuck Bass in this dusty and possibly rat-infected closet. And it was amazing.
He called her 'baby' for the first time as he came.
She decided, then and there, as they snuck back to class that this was getting completely out of control. She had to end this before she ended up bringing him to her bed.
That afternoon she did bring him to her bed. Their make-out session was interrupted by Nate and his 'heart on his sleeve speech'.
She knew she had to meet Nate for his tux-fitting but she decided to go shopping with Iz for some shoes. As she walked out she saw him, lounging outside of his limo, scarf billowing in the wind. She quickly got rid of Iz and jumped into his limo without acknowledging him until he was on top of her, door closed and lips suckling her neck.
"Don't go meet him," he implored after, as they put their clothes back on. He wasn't looking at her and she refused to look at him.
Their 'relationship' was a house made out of Jell-O and it trembled every few seconds, just waiting to melt with too much heat.
"We're just going as friends," she clarified, taking out her compact and checking her make–up. And he was sliding next to her, lifting her and sitting her gingerly between his own legs, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. She secretly loved when he held her like this.
She could see his face in her compact mirror and signed, closing the mirror.
"I'm late," she whispered since he begins doing that which she hates.
Smelling her hair and – cuddling.
"You smell like me." He whispered huskily against her ear.
"Well you were on me." She murmured, getting distracted as he paid particular attention to her that spot just behind her ear.
"On you, in you," he continued, his hands now reaching out for hers.
Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass then held hands for the first time. Intertwined fingers.
His limo dropped her off in front of Nate's tailor and as she glanced back she saw his face. She decided to ignore it because Chuck Bass would never ever look sad.
When she decided to break things off with him it was because she was supposed to be with Nate. Her life had been a mini-roller coaster in the short days she had been with him and it was all up to her to put a stop to it. Plus, she couldn't trust him.
Weeks later, when Chuck Bass rejected her it had been the lowest point in her life. It was like her Chuck was gone. The one who stopped having sex with a girl if she called him and needed his help; the one who would pull her curls and leave her crying, the one who smirked and leered at her even with Nate at her side, the one she first saw naked. He was just gone. Destroyed and all that was left was a cold – hating man. A man, she realized she helped create.
In the next few months she could barely look at him and any looks that did get crossed between them where usually filled with hate. Because as far as she was concerned she would hate Chuck Bass for the rest of her life. Because he was absolutely hateful. She imagined when she would be old, crippled and full of Botox she would curse the day she gave up her virginity to that little boy who pulled her curls.
Fuck him and his pink bow-ties.
Of course, life was a bitch and she was forced to turn to him for help. She had to call him and when Blair Waldorf held the phone in her hand (shaky and desperate) she knew if there was one person she could call it would be him. She hope that some of the old Chuck was left, enough to care.
She would be civil. She was, after all, looking for help. She was desperate. This was last resort. So yes… she had deleted his number from her phone. But he had the same number since the fifth grade. So yes, she remembered it.
"Are you drunk dialing again?" he asked as he answered the phone.
There was a soft current that went through her belly because she realized that he hadn't deleted her number. That or he remembered hers – which was unlikely since he received countless calls from random hoes.
"Truce, ok? I need your help," And she went straight to business. Cold, calculating Blair was all he was ever going to see. "Serena is missing – is she with you?"
"No… Serena didn't come home last night." He replied, his voice was smooth, silky and just as sensual as she remembered. She secretly admitted to herself that she loved his voice– but she wasn't going to think about it now. Her friend was missing and she was desperate.
"Oh god…" he sensed the whimper in her voice and she mentally cursed herself.
"I thought she was with you…" he said.
And that's when the words rushed out – it felt like before their entire mess had started and she would call him, crying and upset because of something or other that Nate or Serena had done. And he just listed, he always listened.
"Chuck – oh god, come to my place, please! I need you, I don't know where she is – I'll explain everything there."
He didn't say anything, he just let the rush of her words come out and she hung up. Hands shaking as she exited the cab.
After Serena had confessed her secret they had to get ready for the rehearsal dinner. While Serena dried her hair Blair picked out her jewelry and that's when she saw it. The necklace he had given her. She opened the soft box and looked at it. It was absolutely perfect. She had worn it twice. Once – it was all she wore as he buried his face between her legs. The other it was at cotillion. That night they had plans to meet up after the dance – perhaps to Victrola? She didn't know, he had been the one to plan out the evening. But that evening had gone completely different than what either of them had though would go.
So she had never worn it again. She wasn't even going to take it with her to France. She wanted to leave it behind along with everything that reminded her of him.
"B?" Serena asked coming up behind her.
"You're going to wear that?" Serena was desperate to talk about something other than what was on everyone's mind.
Blair fingered the necklace and put it back in her drawer. "Not yet."
That night he offered her a ride to her place. They didn't speak and for that she was grateful; she didn't know what to say. What do you say to a man who likes to smell your hair?
His jaw was sharp as he looked out the window, his hand in a fist tucked under his chin. She thought he had never looked more beautiful and Grecian. Nate was perfection in itself but Chuck was rough and made of all sharp angles. From his brow to his nose to the angular chin. He was intense and she understood why women just threw themselves all over him – ranging from mothers to teeny-boppers. You name it, Chuck had bed them all.
"Don't you have plans for tonight?" the question popped into her head before she could prevent her mouth from spitting it out.
He turned to look at her; the shadows making him look more dark and mysterious than she had ever seen him.
"My father is getting married tomorrow, Waldorf," he said, quietly. "And I'm worried about Serena."
The soft current that wondered into her stomach slipped back in sent her a shiver. She cleared her throat and looked down, accusingly at her stomach. He cared about Serena. Nate had cared about Serena but it was different. Chuck cared about Serena the way she had always wished Nate would. Like a sister; like someone to protect because she was a friend not because he was fascinated with her and her long legs. Serena was her sister and his man (whose fingers she had held intertwined a long time ago) cared about her just as much as she did.
Her life was so utterly and completely fucked up. Nothing was supposed to be the way it was, nothing was going the right way, nothing. Nothing at all.
When the limo stopped at her house it was his turn to clear his throat.
"Thank you… you know… for everything." It was lame; lame was her new middle name.
He didn't say anything, just starred at her. Shadows still covering his face.
"So what are you going to do about?" he asked suddenly.
Her stomach flipped itself like an omelet at his words. What did he want her to do about? Sit on his lap and thank him properly?
"Bass – " She said in a warning tone.
"About Georgina, I mean," he stated, his head tilted slightly and she secretly admitted that she loved it when he looked at her that way.
"I don't know. I have to formulate a plan," she opened the door and slammed it in his face.
She stood there for a minute, him behind the door, she clutching her purse, and nearly jumped when his window was suddenly lowered.
"Care to formulate together?" he asked.
She shrugged and as she bounced up the steps to her home she knew he was at her heels.
The next morning, as she slammed the door in his face she immediately decided she needed a different dress. She didn't feel like wearing the dark green anymore. She wanted something prettier, something happy, something he would lik– something else.
So she decided to wear pink. Because pink was a color she was oddly attracted to at the moment. Plus she wasn't tempted to wear a certain necklace since the collar wouldn't permit her to do so.
In the wedding, it was something about the way he was looking at her as she retold her story of Georgina Sparks. She was smiling and he was looking down at her with lo- she didn't know what he was saying with his eyes, all she knew was that he gave her the perfect line to go back to how things were.
When she kicked him, his breath was strong against her skin and she secretly admitted that she loved this banter-thing they had going on. She hated him, of course. It was the basis for the banter.
Later, when he stood up and before he even said anything, the current that was now softly flowing through her stomach did a bounce that she didn't expect. She secretly admitted that he was more handsome than she had ever given him credit for. When he spoke and he looked at her; she started going through her rolodex of memories and realized that Nate had never looked at her in that way, had never had spoken that way and most certainly had never done such a gesture.
She gave him a smile because what else could she do? Plus she though the champagne might stop the current in her stomach.
When she saw him standing and watching the happy couple dance her feet carried her to him and she secretly cursed them. And then he was holding her. She secretly admitted to herself that he danced like a gentleman should. That she could dance with him for the rest of her life. That their eyes met at just the right angle.
And he was apologizing and his words felt like honey on her soul and she felt her resolve was slowly melting because he was being the man she needed him to be. And when he kissed her, her toes did a happy dance in her pink Christian Louboutins.
He basically told her he loved her but not quite so she took his hand and they entered his limo – fingers intertwined.
They didn't kiss in the limo because she was cuddling against him, her head on his shoulder as he kissed the top of it.
"We should've done this sooner," she murmured.
"Everything has it's time," he murmured right back.
It was the third best limo ride of her life – because they were content and at peace. When they arrived at her house he got out first, helping her out.
He was being a gentleman and she didn't know how to act because this might actually mean he was a Chuck Bass who no one had met before. A Chuck made just for her.
He kissed the back of her hand. "Breakfast tomorrow?"
She smiled. "Is that going to be like our thing?"
"I've been wanting to make it our thing," he reminded her and she secretly loved the way he remembered things (unlike Nate who couldn't remember if he brushed his teeth).
He didn't say anything else because he knew her answer was yes He stood next to the car until she entered her building before leaving. The current in her stomach apparently liked this.
They decided to meet at Gustavs for early brunch (he decided when he texted her) and she secretly loved the way he could make plans without it all falling on her lap.
When she arrived, in a light blue cotton dress, he was already waiting for her and he stood, just like a gentleman would, and kissed her good morning. She admitted later that she blushed. He helped her to her seat and when the waiter came he ordered for her.
She huffed a bit and they bickered back and forth for a minute because she could order for herself. Of course, she secretly admitted that he ordered exactly what she would've ordered.
"I've seen you eat enough times to know what you like," and he began reading his newspaper, starting with the social page.
She glared at him for a minute before realizing they were being watched by an elderly couple with fond smiles on their faces. "He does the same thing to me, he's done it for fifty four years." The lady said, nodding at her husband's direction.
She would've kicked him under the table as he chuckled softly at the woman's words if they hadn't been in public.
After brunch she excused herself to go to the bathroom and he eyed her carefully, saying nothing. As she entered the bathroom she was tempted to do what she always did… but there was something in the way he had looked at her as she had walked away from the table.
He knew. And that killed her.
As she sat down again he had already covered the check.
"Let's go for a walk," he suggested and she nodded, taking his offered hand.
They walked silently next to each other, fingers intertwined. That's when the cameras where pulled from a couple of girls and their silly phones and she knew that they were about to face their public.
His hand tightened around hers and swiftly pulled out his own phone, calling the limo. Once inside she sighed and he did something he had never done. He laughed.
She was startled because she was sure he had only really laughed a selected amount of times.
"Blair – I have no idea what I'm doing," he admitted, smile still on his face. She secretly loved his smile because it was hers and only hers.
She was the one to scoot over next to him and pull his face down, their lips touched tentatively. "Am I your first girlfriend?" she asked, playfully.
There was a fleeting emotion that went through his eyes but he recovered quickly and the waves that were now moving in her stomach gave her a warning splash. She knew in that moment that he was not strong enough yet. He was not ready. She knew it but the moment was so soft and short and he smelled so very good and she fit in his arms so very well that she pushed it to the back of her mind and continued kissing him.
"I'm going to make a shitty boyfriend," he said, pulling back – almost panic in his eyes.
"Most likely, but I'll walk you through it," she smirked and she could see he liked it when she played with him. He liked it a lot.
Dinner was spent with her mother and her investors but as her phone vibrated in her hands she thought perhaps she could live through it.
Can I come over? C.B.
She smirked, ignoring her mother's slight glare but she responded to his text regardless.
20 min. mom w/ ppl here. xo, B
It didn't take him long to respond.
What r u doing 4 summer? C.B.
She rolled her eyes.
France. Dad. xo, B
Desert was served. Thank goodness.
y? xo, B
There was no way she was going to eat the chocolate torte.
Tuscany sound good? C.B.
Her stomach was warm and soft.
"Can I be excused, mother?" she asked. Eleanor was not happy, she could tell.
"Is something wrong, Blair?" her tone was waspish.
"No," she answered simply. Eleanor's eyes were glued to her back as she retreated to her room.
Blair Waldorf, at age seventeen, pulled out her phone to call a slightly unrecognizable Charles Bass and tease him because he was being such a romantic.
"Tuscany?" she asked as he picked up.
There was silence in the other line and she could see him squirming in his leather shoes.
"I'd love to," she answered before he broke out in hives.
She could hear that he was silently grateful. It was bad enough that he had to text her. She secretly admitted that she loved how shy he could be when his feelings were exposed.
"Ok, that's good. How's dinner going?" he asked, sharply changing the subject.
"Boring," she replied, lying back on her bed.
"Really?" he asked, and she sensed it – that huskiness in his voice that meant he wished he hadn't suggested that they take things slowly.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Lying on my bed," he responded.
A smile crept to her lips and that newly discovered side of her purred in excitement. "Me too."
She could hear his interest peek.
"What are you wearing?" his voiced purred and the waves in her stomach made a bee-line to her groin.
Hours later, as she lay asleep she felt a shifting in her bed.
It was her mother and she sat up, worried.
"What happened?" she asked, anxiously. Her mother rarely joined her in bed. Eleanor touched her hair and smiled slightly, looking down at her.
"I just realized something today – as you walked away." Eleanor whispered. She studied Blair's face until Blair had to look away. "You're all grown up."
"Mom –" Blair started.
"And… there's something else. Something I haven't seen before. I just saw it today – for a moment as you were in table."
Blair remained carefully quiet.
"If I didn't know better I'd think you were in love." She chuckled and Blair's stomach froze like the Arctic.
"Mom, that's ridiculous – you've seen me in love for years with Nate." Blair began looking around her room because she just couldn't look at her mother.
"No… this was different." Eleanor said. "Never mind, I get emotional every decade or so, you know?"
Blair nodded and laid back down as Eleanor walked away. She lay looking at her ceiling, trying to figure out what to think, what to feel, what to do…
She instinctively reached for her phone and did her #2 speed-dial.
It took a few rings before he answered the phone. "What happened?" his voice sounded worried.
"You where asleep," she said, sheepishly, tucking her covers under her chin.
"Well, yeah… it's…. 4:13am." He grunted, annoyed.
"I miss you," she confessed. She could tell this woke him up very quickly. "And I didn't call you for phone sex, so down boy."
"That's a disappointment," he stated but she could tell he was slightly touched.
"I want to see you tomorrow," she stated, her heart beating.
"Humm?" he answered.
"Chuck?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry, I'm half asleep," he replied and she could tell she was loosing him.
"Ok… so tomorrow. I want a carriage ride around central park." She decided.
"You're a demanding little thing, anyone ever tell you that?" he chuckled.
"Now, listen – cause this is important." She stated. "I will wear a black dress and pink heels."
"Go on," he leered.
"Chuck! Focus," she demanded. "You will be in a suit, of course. And you will pay the driver to ride us out of Central Park."
He was silent on the line. "Are you awake?"
"Traumatized is more like it," he responded.
"Blair, I'm not making a fucking fool out of myself just so you can re-enact a scene from Fucking and the City." He was annoyed.
"Good night, Chuck."
"Good night Blair."
Of course it was 6:45am before she was able to get back to sleep.
Serena woke her for an early shopping spree which Blair declined as she dragged herself out of bed. She scrubbed her face and brushed her teeth and as she walked out to find none other than Chuck Bass lounging on her unmade bed.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped, walking around him. He pulled a Christian Louboutin bag from the floor.
"I don't apologize, Waldorf." He stated.
"So you buy me shoes instead?" she asked, eyeing the bag carefully. She did enjoyed being pampered and Chuck was known to have the taste of a gay man.
"Are you going to try them on?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"I'm probably not going to like them," she deadpanned but grabbed the bag anyways.
"I doubt it," he smirked.
"They're probably not my size," she pulled the box out.
"8 ½. And from the Fall collection," he eyed her.
They were perfect, she secretly decided.
"I thought they would be nice on you as we strolled down the streets of Tuscany." He said after a minute.
"I guess I can find something to wear with them," she sighed and then smiled at him. "You're forgiven."
She saw him visibly relax a little.
"Just don't do something that a present can't get you out of," she put the box down and sat in front of him.
"I don't plan to. But… I suck at this boyfriend thing so you're gonna have to be patient and not attempt to lights, camera, action this relationship."
A smile crept to her face. "You don't get nearly enough credit for your romantic statements."
She pulled him to her and she was surrounded by his smell – and she was going to melt. She secretly loved the way he kissed. Like this was the last kiss they would ever share, like this the was moment that life was created for.
"Blair Cornelia Waldorf!"
Chuck sat up so fast she wondered if he got a nose bleed.
Eleanor was not happy. Blair in her robe, Charles Bass' hands under the robe – yeah. It was going to get interesting.
"Charles Bass!" her mother cried, as if it was the end of her social life.
"Mrs. Waldorf, how are you today?" Chuck attempted before she stuck him with a glare that Blair had never been able to perfect. Now he knew where she got it from.
"Aren't you leaving?" Eleanor hissed at him.
"No," he stated, and Blair felt the waves in her stomach crashing against rocks. "I intent take Blair to the park. We're going on a carriage ride. You're welcomed to join us."
Blair's head swiveled to her mother as Eleanor studied Chuck (more like scrutinized him) as he stood his ground. No one had ever stood up to Eleanor. Not even her father.
"Are you dating my daughter?" she finally asked.
Blair felt sick. The temptation to hug the toilet took over her until she felt she couldn't breath. Then Chuck did something she hadn't expected. He grabbed her hand.
"Yes. Yes I am. I apologize for not telling you sooner, it happened very suddenly." He replied in a clear voice but she could feel his hand slightly sweating.
Eleanor turned her attention to Blair. "For the love, Blair. Put some clothes on!" She turned to Chuck once more. "And you! This is the rule; if you two are going to be in the room, the door will be opened and you will both be completely dressed. Is that clear?"
They both nodded like naughty children.
"Blair, you should've invited Mr. Bass for dinner last night. Maybe then you wouldn't have looked so bored," he mother made a grand exit and waited for Chuck outside the door.
Chuck gave her one last look with his signature smirk and followed her mother outside.
"Mrs. Waldorf, have I mentioned how absolutely stunning you look lately," she could hear her boyfriend tell her mother. "Almost refreshed."
She rolled her eyes and sat on her bed. This was a nightmare.
She eyed the shoe box next to her bed and she decided she had just the right pair of jeans to match her new Chuck-shoes.
They didn't go on a carriage ride because Chuck confessed that after an Eleanor confrontation he was ready to eat. So he got them a table at Butter and she glared at the mean hostess just so she knew Blair Waldorf was no longer waiting on anyone. By the look the hostess gave Chuck, Blair knew she had gotten her point across.
"I like your mom," Chuck stated out of the blue as their plates were taken away.
"That's a first." She smirked and eyed him carefully. He was being sincere and this pleased her. "I'm going to the restroom."
His head snapped to attention and he looked at her intently. "Blair…."
"I'm not… I'm just not, ok?" she avoided his gaze like the plague. With Nate it had been so simple. He had never noticed. Never bothered. She'd been sticking her finger down her throat since she was 12, for Christ-sakes!
It was a beat before he answered. "Because you're beautiful, you know."
His words made her melt in her leather chair and she secretly admitted that no one had ever made her feel that way. He looked almost ashamed that he had let it slip and looked away.
A small smile formed on her face and she looked around. "How long have you known?" she asked, quietly.
He studied her for a moment, unsure if he preferred this subject to their last. "We were twelve…" he started, still looking at her intently. "… It was Christmas and both you and Nathaniel had come over. We decided to head to Jupiter, remember? You excused yourself before we left and when you came back you looked pale and shaken. I didn't say anything because… well because it wasn't my place. I decided to go to the restroom and when I did… I could smell it."
Her eyes were downcast and she felt her heart hammering against her chest. That had been the first time she had done it. The very first time.
"I thought… maybe you were just sick… then a few weeks later… same thing. You went to the restroom and came out pale. It didn't take much to figure it out."
"Nate never did," Blair interrupted him.
He didn't say anything but just stared at her. What was he to say?
"I really am just going to the restroom," she gave him a small smile – which he returned, hesitantly.
Gossip Girl reported before they made it back to his hotel room that C & B where the new B & N. This made his jaw twitch and she kissed him to make it better.
The next day she woke in his bed and she had a moment of panic before she realized her mother had left the night before to London. This made her relax and lay back down on top of his chest. This woke him and he asked her if she wanted to shop for some things for their trip. She happily agreed.
She caught him smelling her hair and she finally asked him what he liked about her hair.
"I've wanted to touch it for as long as I have memory of you," he replied.
"We were seven," she murmured. "You pulled my hair."
"How can you remember?" he asked, running his fingers though it.
"I cried, I thought you were just awful." She admitted and he laughed.
"I was awful."
"You were. I hated you."
"I first smelled it when we were like eleven… I think," his eyes became glaze as he remembered.
"No. We were ten. It was my tenth birthday party. You and Nate came dressed like Gargoyles." She told him and he laughed.
"You so did. Both of you chased me and Serena around the house," she recounted. "You pounced me and that's when you smelled my hair."
"You hit me, I remember," he realized.
"I didn't know what to do. Here you were, smelling my hair, with a fanged-mask on your face."
"What's a girl to do?" he asked.
"I remember because we didn't see you a while after that because your mother die-" and her words died on her lips.
The mood changed so drastically that she had no idea how to ever fix it. Anyone who knew Chuck Bass, which was very little people, knew that the subject of his mother was one not touched.
"I mean… I'm sorry, Chuck," and she did the only thing she knew how to do. She tightened her grip on his chest, pressing her face to his skin.
They didn't talk about it the rest of the day as he accompanied her from store to store and spared no expense on her whims.
It was nearing the end of the day when they ran into some of the boys from school; they looked elated to see Chuck and he greeted them, still holding some of Blair's bags in his hands. The boys looked at his packages and then at Blair and there was a universally unspoken talk between them.
Chuck Bass was whipped. She saw the shadow in his eyes again. That inevitable shadow crossed his eyes. She had to fuck him seven times before the shadow left his eyes and was replaced by pure bliss.
She didn't need bulimia when fucking Chuck Bass worked out all the calories she had consumed in the past two weeks.
The next morning they were ok. Just ok. They held hands and talked about Tuscany and even met up with Serena for lunch. Serena, of course, was eyeing Chuck like he was about to break her. Chuck for his part, found it endearing. He of course, called her on her sisterly behavior.
"Relax, sister. I plan to keep the asshole part of me hidden. For a while, at least."
They would be leaving for Tuscany in two days and she hadn't begun to pack. She dismissed him, amidst his passionate kisses, so she could begin putting together her summer wardrobe.
"I like this Bass boy," Dorota mentioned to her casually as they closed her first Vuitton chest.
She didn't say anything but she secretly loved that Dorota approved.
"I'm having dinner with investors," he told her the next day over the phone. "They think Victrola has potential to be franchised."
She smiled into her phone. Not everyone knew how smart he could be if he wanted. If he wanted to be a shark in business he could be better than his father. "I'm very happy for you, do you need moral support?"
She felt his mood change. "What type of support do you have in mind?"
"Chuck Bass, I fucked seven times two days ago." She hissed at him. She could hear him chuckling in the other line.
"I love it when you talk dirty, Blair," he said. She groaned and hung up.
Her phone vibrated a minute later.
I'll send the car 7.
She smiled and frantically called for Dorota. She only had 3 hours!
When she entered the car she expected to be alone in the ride but there he was sitting, black suit and a sharp cherry-tie with a small, tasteful and elegant bouquet of white and red hydrangeas.
Her smile melted his stony face and he pulled her to him, kissing her as if it where the last time would be together.
"You bought me flowers," she murmured, touching his eyebrow as she studied his face.
She secretly loved his face.
"If I knew that was all it would take to get you in my arms like this," he smirked. She swatted him playfully and then proceeded to kiss him once more.
"Nice necklace," he commented, with something like pride in his eyes. She attempted not to blush but she knew she was.
"Yeah, some guy got it for me," she said airily.
"Nice guy, eh?" he inquired, repeating the same action he did the night he first placed it on her neck and she felt shivers in the tiny spots where his fingers brushed lightly against her collarbone, making sure all the little pieces were in place.
"He's alright. I might keep him."
When they arrived at the restaurant Blair was pleased that one of the other investors had brought his wife. It would be all too Pretty Woman if she was alone with a bunch of men trying to eat her escargot. Not that she would ever let them slip. At age five she had been taught the proper way to eat snails.
The dinner went into easy conversation and Blair saw for the first time Chuck Bass the business man. He was in control, like when he made his speech to her at his father's wedding, he was steady and to the point. He knew what to do, what to say, how to look and how to look just vulnerable enough for the investors to want in. He was passionate about it. Chuck Bass did business the way he fucked.
By the time the dinner was almost over her hand had crawled on its own up his leg and she was desperately needing to be alone with him. Him talking had turned her on so bad she could hardly look at desert.
"No offence, dear boy," one of the skeptical investors stated. "But why exactly would we venture into such a business with a seventeen year old boy,"
The table went quiet and Blair was pretty sure that Chuck's temper may cause him the entire deal.
She decided that this was as close to admitting anything to herself and him as far as her thoughts of him went. At least for now. "Excuse, Mr. Holliday, is it?" the man looked her over. "What exactly where you doing at seventeen?"
The man glared at her and she stood her ground, giving him her best Queen B look.
"Graduating high school, I presume." He ground out.
"Probably wondering if you would get lucky with the head cheerleader on prom night, right?" she asked, sweetly but from the corner of her eye she could feel Chuck pressing his hand against his mouth to stop from laughing. This secretly pleased her. He admired her. "Well, since at seventeen Charles here has more sense than you and your two heads had at his age, I should think you would take some pointers. Especially at your age. You never know when a younger, richer, more good-looking and smarter young lad will come around and sweep your company off its feet." She laughed her best society laugh. "I don't know much about business but the little that I either know or am interested in I would think that you wouldn't question age but more the sense and the strength of the idea."
Chuck struck gold, the investors were won over. And Chuck did love his golf outfit.
The moment the door closed behind them in the limo Chuck was on top of her, kissing her frantically, inhaling her like she was his real meal.
"You were so fucking sexy in there," he said between kisses.
"Did it turn you on?" she asked breathlessly.
From his response she knew her answer loud and clear. They hardly made it back to her house before their clothes were off and they were making noises she was sure were making Dorota fume.
They slept together the entire night, waking every few hours, making love once more and then falling asleep again, sticky in each other's arms.
She secretly admitted to herself that she was in love with him.
When she woke he joined her in her shower and the sex was the best they ever had. By the time they climaxed the water was running cold and she was shrieking, shivering as he held her close, attempting to dry her up. She looked up at him at that moment, both naked in her bathroom and he furiously rubbed a towel over her, dabbing her face and kissing her brow.
"Chuck… don't break my heart, ok?" she felt the need to say.
He gave her a look of almost sadness. "I couldn't live with myself if I did."
When they dressed in robes and entered her room Dorota was pulling the sheets from her bed furiously and glaring at Chuck. "Ms. Serena called – she coming over."
"I'll be leaving, I haven't packed and I want to see my father before we leave." Chuck stated, grabbing his clothes that had been neatly pilled on top of her chaise by an angry Dorota.
Blair suddenly felt like holding him. "Wait," she told him and they held each other closely.
"I'll see you in a few hours," he smiled down at her. "Teach you what they say about the mile-high club."
Dorota made an indignant noise.
"Ok. Don't be late. I'll be there early because I want the-"
"Jump seat, I know." He smirked.
"We're going to have a great time," she insisted and leaned her forehead against his.
"We will," he promised and then kissed her forehead, heading out.
She watched him leave an sighed.
Later, when texted her.
Dad coming late. I'll take a commercial flight. C.B.
She felt the waves that she'd been feeling in her stomach start to slow down. Like they were expecting a storm and there was an eerie silence.
When she arrived in Italy and checked into his hotel she decided to give him five hours.
Five hours should be enough.
Seven hours later she had fallen asleep wearing her "welcome to Italy dress". A tiny white mini-dress that made her butt look like it belonged to J-Lo.
Her back hurt from sleeping in the odd angle but nothing compared to her heart. She decided to call him then.
He didn't pick up the first four times but the fifth was the charm.
He was drunk and she could feel it.
"You're not coming," she stated.
"Blair-" he began but she didn't want to hear him. His voice was poison to her and she hated that she'd allowed him in so much that her entire heart would die from his betrayal.
"Shut up," she snapped. She would not cry. She just wouldn't. "I had a secret to tell you. But you don't deserve to know it. Don't you ever speak to me again, Chuck Bass." She spit his name, throwing back his cocky remark at his face and angrily yanked the battery out of her phone. She then stomped on it.
She stared at the phone, broken and smashed.
She had an Eleanor Waldorf breakdown. What was next, an eye lift?
She had to do something, she couldn't breathe. She knew it. She just knew it was temporary. That shadow had taken over his eyes and she hadn't been there to stop it. To save him. To save them.
She was done. She was done saving relationships that didn't want to be saved. She was not going to be swimming alone. If he wanted her he was going to have to swim for her.
A/N – the companion piece will be what happens next but this time in Chuck's point of view. I hope you all liked it. Please let me know what you think since I'm new to writing Chuck/Blair and appreciate pointers. I will be posting part 2, which is already written but waiting to be Beta'd later this week.