Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
A/N: So I know I haven't updated this story in FOREVER, I know, I know, but I never gave up on the idea to finish it someday. It took a while for me to get back to it, and I won't let that happen again.
I've re-written some of the earlier parts and I think this story has really matured. I hope some people are still interested in finding out the ending.
Guys, guys, anyone out there?
Read, enjoy, I'm sorry for the long hiatus.
Sugar, we're going down
A one night miracle was not enough to change a man like Chuck Bass. He woke up the next day like he did the one before, hung over. His head was pounding, his mouth so dry and throat sore. He couldn't feel his nose, but he knew it had bled during the night. He set aside the pretty girl in his arms and tried to get up. His whole body hurt. He could barely stand on his legs, and he felt incredibly dizzy.
He needed coffee and a Xanax, he needed Mirko, he needed a bath, and most of all he needed a line. He left the sleeping girl behind without a glance.
He didn't know his blood marked her in his sleep.
He remembered a time when he used to think, maybe I should just stop doing this shit, before taking his first line of the day. Now he just stopped thinking.
He kicked a passed out Mirko, in what appears to be the remains of an early morning orgy. Chuck didn't know any of the girls. Hookers maybe, is the girl from last night one of them? Effy?
He wasn't sure he wanted to know, so he just kicked Mirko harder. The man managed to look both like a baby and a corpse when he slept.
He wasn't sure how it happened, but the girls left and now it was just him and Mirko and the girl and he had his first line of the day.
He kept sniffing like a fucking dog, and he hated it. When Mirko told him his bath was ready, he was starting to lose it. How can Cocaine, which is just a substance, plenty of pretty little shiny molecules united in a fine line of white powder, affect his Thoughts, his Brain and his Body like that?
All he wanted was to cure a broken heart.
That made him laugh like the demented man-child he is. Mirko gave him a look, and he has been getting this one specific look more and more often lately, se he just said thanks, and went to take his fucking bath.
From the extravagant tub, he had one of the best views of Paris. How sick he was of this fucking town. Everything there looked and sang of Blair.
He needed something else to focus on, some other place to go, some other girl to fuck. That's how the memory of Effy resurfaced in his fucked up brain. Weirdly enough, he didn't want to fuck her. She was hot and attractive and, importantly, right there in his hotel room. But she was also a Fairy, a shadow, and his double, his sister.
He wouldn't fuck her he decided, at least not now.
But he had other plans.
He's going to Hell and she's coming with him.
Review, please, let me know what you think and whether I should continue, what direction you think this should take.
Effy/Chuck are either separated at birth, or soulmates, which do you think?