Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, obviously.
So the chapter is kind of confused but it's done on purpose. This is Chuck's pov and he's...not in his right state of mind. Or maybe it's a little because I still don't have an English beta. Any volonteers ?
He woke up to a pair of wide amazing blue eyes staring at him. The most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen (sorry Nathaniel). Fairy eyes, sparkling and mischievous, full of sadness and joy at the same time. And something else, something he recognized without being able to explain it. He took a look at the owner of those eyes, realizing that, apparently, his head was in her lap.
"Even better," he muttered while taking a closer look at the stranger.
Definitely not a fairy, he thought, fairies don't dress that hot. But then, fairies were not really his field of expertise.
"Hi, I am Chuck bass. Who are you?"
Before she had time to respond, he continued, settling himself at a better angle on her lap.
"Don't answer that," he said. "I know who you are, you're a hallucination. I'm 80 percent sure. The 20 percent left think you're a fairy, by the way. Or a hooker, you're just too hot to be a fairy. But then, fairies are not really the creatures I know best. I should ask Blair, she knows a lot about fairy tales."
Oh right, Blair wasn't talking to him. That was kind of why he had left. Among other things.
He couldn't believe he was so drunk that he forgot about that. But again, it was kind of the point of getting drunk in the first place. He chuckled at how good he was at self-destruction, even when he didn't really mean to.
And it may or may not have been the alcohol but the mysterious stranger seemed to understand his thoughts. The only logical explanation, and Chuck had always been good with logic, was that she was a fairy.
Suddenly he could feel her stroking his hair, and gently caressing his face. His full drunken attention went back to her; she appeared both motherly and mischievous. This was all so surreal, but what in his life wasn't?
His life had always been this strange mix between fairy tale and nightmare, everything around him running too fast to let him really acknowledge how fucked up it was, which was probably the real purpose of fast cars and a shit ton of coke.
Never stop, never look back. Otherwise...
Well, he wasn't really sure he wanted to know what would happen otherwise.
Weirdly, like everything else that night, her presence, her gentle touch, were reassuring. It felt good and it felt right. Comforting in a way that was unknown to him. He looked up at her, really looked this time. And what happened surprised him even more. What he saw, or rather what they shared, because you can't just watch through someone's soul like that without exposing yourself, was like nothing he had ever experienced before (and that was saying a lot, because he was Chuck Bass after all).
He saw her pain. Almost felt it, physically. He saw fire, this raw energy burning inside her without any real purpose. He saw all of her scars, the betrayal, the fighting. He saw love. He saw hope. He saw her consuming lust. He saw her need for destruction and her hate. He saw her intelligence and her Needs. He saw her secrets and mysteries. He caught a glimpse of the life, the force inhabiting Effy Stonem.
He saw himself. Everything he saw in her was echoing inside of him. As if he was just looking through the bloody looking-glass, and peeking at a distort version of himself.
His breath was short, his heart pacing.
"Who are you?" he asked again, but the meaning was different this time.
His voice was low and soft, almost silky. The spark was back in his eyes, alongside a piercing curiosity. He knew she understood him beyond the words.
"The same way you're Chuck, I'm Effy."
"Delighted to meet you."
His typical smirk printed was back on his lips, and he pressed it to her hand. He was Chuck Bass again, no longer this shadowy self-pitying version of himself. With her by his side, he had this feeling he was whole again. He could do anything. He needed to find a way to keep her there.
"It's Mirko, right? Fuck, for a sex-crazed coke-head this guy has always been way better than I give him credit for. He found you. He's good."
"You're not from here," he stated, as if anyone was from expensive hotel room. "Where are you from?"
"You don't need to hear my story. And I don't need to hear yours. There's no point in that, not when mystery is so much better," she said matter-of-factly.
"That's true," he said. "No stories then, but what are you doing here? What are you after?"
"I'm trying to lose myself," she shrugged.
"I am myself too on a trip to perdition, planning to dwell there for a while. Care to join me?"
She smiled and he smirked back. It already seemed to be an old habit. He opened his arms to her and she crawled inside them, letting him hold her while she was half resting on him. There were a few whispers before he fell out of consciousness.
Neither of them was good at trust.
Both of them were use to sleep alone.
Chuck threw girls out of his king-sized bed after one night. He never actually slept with anyone. Not even Blair. With her he couldn't sleep, he was way too afraid she would disappear the moment he would closed his eyes. So he just watched her as she slept, holding her tight so she wouldn't slip away.
In the end he had been the one disappearing while she was asleep. He couldn't stand imagining how hurt she must have felt the morning after. But when he had woken up that night, watching her just hurt too much. She was so beautiful and trusting. He couldn't stand it. How could she be so beautiful and so trusting with him? He didn't deserve beauty and trust, and he had been delusional to even think of it. He needed to go. To get away from her before he tainted her. And get away from any trusting soul, in a place where he could fully sabotage himself, and only him. Away from anyone he could disappoint, from anyone who cared, from anyone he could hurt. In the finest place for destruction and more importantly, a place where she wouldn't be able to find him.
That's why he came to Paris in the first place. The poor girl had such an idealized, romantic idea of Paris she would never look for him there.
Sleepover weren't Effy's thing either. The only person she had been able to sleep with was Tony. When they were little, whenever she had a nightmare (which used to be quite frequent) she would sneak into his bed, without a word. And he would understand, and hold her hand and pet her hair until she fell asleep. It slowly became a comforting routine that they both needed. But then he betrayed her, left her all alone. And she just couldn't sleep anymore. First her parents gave her some pills, but they did weird things to her brain, so she stopped taking them. She gave up on sleeping and started going out every night instead of facing the cold loneliness of her room. She started slow; she was still pretty young, balcony, roof, playground, park and stuff before really going out drinking and partying. But after his accident, it started all over again. It begun while he was still unconscious, or so the doctors claimed. He seemed to be responding to her touch so she got into the habit of lying down next to him in his hospital bed, so he could feel her presence.
Keeping all of this in mind, one could consider that what happened next that night was a miracle, or fate like Chuck Bass himself would think later. Still holding each other firmly, they both fell asleep on the comfortable leather couch.