Summary: SPOILERS. Blair remembers. Chuck surrenders. CB. Viva la Chair.

Taking a break from Charade, but it will be updated sometime this week! Ok here comes my shameless pimping: Read Charade, too! If you like my style, you are sure to love Charade. It's funny. : D

In this story, there's kind of a large tone change in the middle. Probably due to the fact that they were written on two separate days, me having experienced to separate things. Still, I like the contrast, and I hope it doesn't bug you too much!

Read and Review! Please and thank you!

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As she walks home in the snow, she remembers. She just kissed his best friend, running back to that past; the only one she'll allow herself to acknowledge, and she feels melancholy. She's alone now; with only her loose-fitting beret and her trembling lip, and she remembers the first time she noticed his eyes were hazel.

It was in August the previous summer, when his pursuit for her was almost gentlemanly, and they were in the garden at Serena's grandmother's tea. She remembers her distinct feeling of disgust when she realized that they were matching, again. As if the gods were out to get her; reminding her everyday that, as much as she tried to hide (mentally and physically), he would always find her. She'd never get her heart back.

She'd followed after him when he'd abruptly left the table, and she knew he'd seen the pin. It should make you happy that he even cares, her irrational mind contemplated, it's just a pin, B.

He told her he knew the pin meant something to her, she gave it to the person she loved. His eyes told her he was silently wishing it was his. She cringed inwardly, because even though they were in a fight, she didn't want to hurt him like this. Even though the damn boy left her stranded, she still could feel every single thing he felt. One look at him and his pain was her's. At the moment, his heart was breaking. She looked away, saving herself.

She couldn't speak for a moment, and realized he couldn't either, so she took the opportunity to look back up at him. She wondered what he was thinking, the details of his subsequent plan. It was then that she saw it, after years of believing an absolute lie.


He sputtered, and locked eyes with her once more. They were. They sparkled in the sunlight, with speckles of gold and green. How could she have never seen it?


"Your eyes. They are hazel."

"What are you talking about, Waldorf? My eyes are brown. And this is not the time."

"No, they're not. They're hazel. You never noticed?"

"I always just saw brown. No one's ever told me otherwise."

She understood then, that so did she. She always saw brown. Before she'd fallen for him, she never had seen the boy behind the layers. She saw single-layered, womanizer Chuck Bass, and nothing more. The way he was looking at her suggested that everyone else had only seen brown, too, and in turn, so had he.

She saw him. She knew him. Every single part of him. She knew things he never even knew about himself, she made him feel things the world told him were impossible for him to feel.

She wished they were different. She wanted to make him see all the potential; all the wonder she experienced every time she looked at him. But she was too busy hurting. And he was too busy trying to fix it.

She remembered how broken the boy had looked that day, his sea foam green suit seeming to have dulled a few shades. She promised herself she wouldn't alienate him forever. She said to herself that one day she'd make him see. He wasn't the person he thought he was; he was so, so much better. He had hazel eyes.

Yet here she was, a year and half later, and she hadn't accomplished a thing. She'd found him on a rooftop, convinced that he was nothing, sure that the world didn't care about him about him a bit, brown eyes cast on the city street below him.

It was all he thought he was. She thought she could fix it.

She'd gotten him down from the ledge that night, sure, but as Cyrus would say, it was not enough. She couldn't make him see all the striking greens, golds, caramels, and even sparkly reds. He refused to see beneath the brown.

She'd gone back to him, Nate, to flee from the need for reassurance. Even though Nate lacked many admirable traits, he was very sure of himself. He'd always known he'd be someone's perfect prince one day. No one needed to tell him his eyes were blue. He just knew.

So she tried her best to adapt to the change, spending her days squinting tightly until maybe, the light could reflect in his eyes the way they did in Chuck's.

It never worked. But it was something to work towards.

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Chuck Bass has always lived a life of privilege. He has not had to work for much and has certainly never had to sacrifice before. It takes him 18 years until he learns exactly what sacrifice feels like.

The day before Valentine's Day, Lily decides she wants to have a get together the next day. The last time they all saw each other was too sad of an occasion, and she wants to reconnect with New York. Serena jumps at the chance to distract herself from her last disintegration with Dan, and Eric offers his honest opinion during every step of the planning process.

Chuck spends most of his time in his room, contemplating sacrifice. He wants so badly to scheme. It's the only thing he knows, and his soul is screaming at him to scheme. Get her away from. Ruin them forever. Make her want to stay as far away from him as possible. Scheme.

He comes to startling realization that he can't. For reasons unknown to him, something inside him is different. He's changed. Grown.

He can't keep repeating his mistakes; he has to learn from them and allow them to affect him. He knows that trying to breaking them apart will only hurt her. He'd hate himself even more if he did that.

Lily worries when he says nothing as Nate and Blair are added to the guest list.

"I can handle it," he finally announces to the family. So, he's lying. He needs them off his back, and he'll be trying his damndest to make sure that it becomes true as soon as possible. So it's not a total lie.


The party has begun, and Chuck has realized he and the bartender have a lot in common. He tells him to be on the lookout for him later; they will probably be spending the entire night together. The bartender nods in approval.

A hundred or so guests make their way in, but he only sees two people. One is a little too pleased with himself; the sight of the other is making his head spin. He goes to grab a chair to bring back to the 'tender when he runs into Serena.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I'm fine, Sis. Really. I don't understand the concern."

"Well, maybe it's because," she leans in and whispers, for his own sake, and he's glad. He doesn't want anyone else hearing this.

"Maybe it's because they've been together for all of one week and you haven't been in the same room as them yet. Or maybe it's because you'll have to sit and watch them together when you know you're in love with her. Maybe it's because there really isn't that much alcohol in this place. Take your pick."

"I'm fine with all of it, Serena. I promise."

"Even the loving her part?"

He sighs, grabs one of her elbows, and drags her into the nearest storage closet. He will tell her this one time and one time only and it better not leave this tiny, tiny room.

"I've come to some sort of peace with this whole situation."

"Peace? When she was with Lord Marcus, you plotted for hours on end. Now suddenly there is peace?"

"I'm going to tell you my reasoning, and you will tell no one, understood?"


"I used to just want Blair with me. I was overwhelmingly selfish and I wanted her to be mine and only mine. I've…grown…in the past few moments and I've come to the decision that…even though it may be very difficult for me… I just want her to be happy. If that is with dear Nathaniel, than it's with him."

"Are you serious, Chuck?"

"Look at her out there. I haven't seen her that happy in months. I've been this dark looming cloud in her life, and I don't want that anymore."

"Are you sure?"

"If she's happy, I'm sure."

"Okay. Let's…go, then."

They walk back outside and Nate's arm is draped around her shoulders. She's giggling in his ear and, Chuck's right, she looks happy. Serena looks over at Chuck and notices his brief moment of pure, unadulterated misery, but he disguises it well with a vodka chaser.

"Chuck," she whispers, "You know this whole situation would be completely different if B heard what you said? All she ever wanted was…everything you've come to be. And now you're suffering for nothing."

He sighs and leans against the wall.

"Blair's happiness is not nothing. It's everything."

Serena placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I think…God; I think you just became my hero."

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Two hours later, Serena had wondered off with the declaration that Chuck was harshing her mellow and it was horrible timing. Chuck was not so sure he was going to make it through the night without hitting someone.

Across the room, Nate and Blair were dancing lovingly. Their facial expressions were reminding Chuck of those of a just-married couple, and he was once again feeling the need for a shot. He motioned for one while his feet tapped impatiently on the floor.

Before the shot could even arrive, Chuck spotted it. He really thought he could handle this, but clearly he was dead wrong.

Nate's hand was resting on Blair's lower back. The most intimate of places to put ones hands during a social gathering. The gesture that said to the world, "She is mine, and it will stay that way for a very long time." His blue eyes sparkled at her, all perfect, like Cinderella's motherfucking ball gown, and his brown ones felt inadequate.

She rested her head on Nate's shoulder as he drew her near, and Chuck pushed his way through the crowd and onto the porch.

He thought he could do this. He felt so stupid. He wanted her to be happy; it was the most important thing, and he was letting Nate's hand placement nearly ruin it for him.

Just then, he heard the patio door slide open. Serena.

"I'm fine, okay S? I just…bit off more than I could chew. I thought I could handle them together tonight. I just, wasn't prepared for all that."

The silence is deafening, and the wind blows towards him. Vanilla and Chanel No.5 hits his nostrils. Fuck.


"Are you…okay? I saw you storm out and, well, the whole party kind of stopped. You looked really upset."

"I'm fine. Just needed a little air. I didn't realize Lily could fit so many people into this apartment."

"You don't look okay, Chuck."

"I think you should get back to the party, Blair. I'm sure it's dull already with you out here."

She paused and placed her drink down. She took a step near him, and his eyes sparkled in a brief moment of hope. Then, it vanished, as he reminded himself of his place.

"I'm not doing this as some personal attack on you, Chuck."

"I know. I kind of wish that you were. It would be so much easier."

"Me, too."

"But you look happy, Blair. And please trust me when I say that it's all that matters to me. That you're happy, that is."

Her heart is flipping, and she sees gold glimmer at her, full of honesty. He really has changed. He hasn't tried to break them up once, and now here he is, alone on the terrace, drowning in his own misery, not willing to say anything because he doesn't want to interfere in her happiness.

Happiness. She snorts to herself. She couldn't be happy, starring into a sea of unified blue for the rest of her life. She needs vibrancy. Color. Preferably, gold, green, caramel, and red.

"B. What's wrong?"

"I'm not…happy."

"I don't understand."

"I could…I could try to move on, Chuck, I could try to adapt. I could put on a show like I'm happy and like I enjoy moving backwards, but I don't. I could pretend that I love blues. I could live my life, simply tolerating it all. But it's not enough."

"Blair, I-"

"I know you think that you only brought sadness to my life, Chuck. You think you're some ghost of gloom that follows me everywhere I go, and I'd be better off with someone like Nate. You're wrong, yet again, Chuck. I need you in my life."

"I-I don't know how not to hurt you, Blair."

"You could never hurt me if you let yourself love me."

He gulped, and she took a step closer, placing both of her hands on the sides of his neck.

"Did you ever look?"


"Do you remember? When I told you that you have hazel eyes? Did you ever try and see?"

"I did, once. I couldn't see."

"I know, Chuck. But I see. I see every single time you look at me, and I want you to see. You are so much more than you think you are, Bass."


He sighs, deciding that now is the opportune moment. He's trying his best not to blow this, because he wants his chance to see. He wants to know what his eyes truly look like. This tiny brown haired vixen with her hands on his face is offering him a chance, and this is the first time in his entire life that he feels like he might be ready.

"Blair, I'm in love with you."

Make the right choice, Blair. Don't let my issues get in the way of your chance.

"And I'm still in love with you."

She treads her fingers in his hair, and kisses him slowly. He feels himself falling off the deep end, knowing full well he'll be her's for eternity. It's not as scary this time.

He deepens the kiss, encasing her tiny frame in his arms. He's dizzy, and he's a little ashamed of himself. His stomach is flipping uncontrollably, and he's once again forgotten his name. But when he closes his eyes and brings her even closer, he sees gushes of greens, golds, caramels, and reds.


A/N: Ever notice that Ed Westwick has hazel eyes? You can kind of see it in this picture: .com/gallery/another-ed-westwick-pic/

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