Disclaimer: I do not own GG. If I did, the show probably wouldn't be as fucked up as it is right now =P I do, however, own this story.

Therefore © by drifted-haiku.2010. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of moi.


06.

Does anybody know how to hold my heart
How to hold my heart?
'Cause I don't want to let go, let go, let go too soon

Serena calls twice a day to check in.

Nate calls once every two days with some inspiration quotes about not letting life getting him down (he really wants to punch Nate out, mostly from jealousy, not irritation).

His dad calls once a week to give his love and toconstantly remind him that his arms are always opened, whenever.

Jenny calls when Nate doesn't to apologize for the stupid quotes and that she's also here, if he ever needs a listening ear.

He however, ignores them all every damn time, and thinks about listening to the voicemails but he doesn't want pity; and as much as he loves them, talking doesn't make it better so he does what he thinks is best and erases the messages. He knows that they care; and they know that he's okay, or will be.

Then he shuts the world out and goes back to what he does best when his someone breaks his heart; he broods and wallows in his writing. This is his road to healing, his purging process of getting everything out, and strangely enough, he thinks this might just be his best writing to date.

Then night before his book is due, he sits and stares out of his window with a glass of wine in hand, almost in a celebratory mood; he has to wonder if this is the calm before a storm. Taking a sip, his doorbell rings like clockwork. Scratching his head, he ambles over to the door. He peers into the peephole but the visitor has clearly steered clear of it. "Hello?"

"Open the door, Humphrey."

He almost drops to his knees from sheer shock. "Blair?"

"I said open the door, Humphrey."

Bossy and demanding—that's her alright.

Sucking in a deep breath, he unlocks and finds her standing outside like how she did on the night of the wake. Only this time, she doesn't have her back to him or looks nervous at all. In fact, if he could say so, she looks angry and altogether disorganized. Her hair that she usually styles in a bun or loose curls are frizzier than normal and she looks as if she hasn't slept a wink. Don't get him wrong; she's still gorgeous but she's an aberration from her normal self. "What—uh—what are you doing here?"

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes and saunters into his place like she owns it.

"Why, Blair, please come in—" remarks Dan sarcastically as he turns around. "Really Blair—"

"Who the hell do you think you are, Humphrey?" she interrupts, poking his chest with her finger. "How dare you show up at my place like that?"

"What?"

She flashes him a deadly glare (one that Medusa wishes she has) and crosses her arms. "You left me the morning after, without saying a word of goodbye, then show up unannounced—to which I might add—do you not own a phone or something? The next time you feel spontaneous, pick up the damn phone and make a call or something."

He backs away and holds up his hand in surrender as she rants. A light bulb suddenly goes off. "Wait—did you just show up here in the middle of the night just to tell me that?"

She pauses; mouth opens, looking bewildered like she hasn't fully registered the act. "Wha—what?"

His mouth curves into a satisfied grin.

She shoves him roughly. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Humphrey," warns Blair. "You know this is your fault."

He only rolls his eyes in response. "What else is new?"

"This—look at me—This dress is a disaster—" she holds up the cheesy, flowery print, "it's something only a middle age woman, who wouldn't know what style is if it hits her in the face, would wear but for some reason, I'm wearing it. I haven't been eaten well—" she stops to make disgusted face at him "—and no, I'm not bulimic again. I haven't slept well either. Just what the hell did you do to me?"

He gasps dramatically and holds a hand to his chest. "Me? Me? Why do you automatically assume it's me? What about your—" he pauses and swallows hard. "Chuck Bass?"

"Like I didn't think about that," she retorts, and brushes the bangs from her eyes. She looks like a mess, a beautiful mess. "You've bewitched me," she rants, obviously confused and frustrated. "I don't know how Humphrey but when he kissed me, he tasted like fine wine and I craved for your mint toothpaste instead. What the hell is wrong with me?"

He holds a finger to his temple, trying to process everything she's said, including the fact that she's indeed here, in his apartment. It's a fact that he's still struggling to believe. "What are you trying to say, Blair?"

"That you put some kind of voodoo on me because I can't stop thinking about you, Humphrey. I don't know why. I don't care why. Just take it away." She looks like she's about to cry and he couldn't help but lets a chuckle escape. Unreasonable, she is.

"And how do you propose I do that?" asks Dan, amused. "Take away the voodoo, that is."

"I don't know but you have three days," she says and starts for the door. "If it doesn't stop, I'm going to skin you alive and you'd wish you had never crossed paths with me, Humphrey."

When she walks pass, he manages to grab onto her arm (something he has learned from his mistake in the past) and swings her around. "Wait, you can't just show up to my apartment in the middle of the night, ranting about some useless curse that doesn't exist and then just leave like nothing happened at all."

"I'm Blair—"

"Yeah, I know. Blair Waldorf. I think the whole planet knows that but you still haven't answered me," he then loosens his grip, "what are you doing here?"

"Gee Humphrey, it's time like these that makes me wonder if there's an actual brain in that head of yours," she then rolls her eyes in a dramatic fashion, "it's like I told you. I need you to remove the curse."

He chuckles, not at the absurdity of her statement but at the seriousness of her tone. "Oh yeah? And what if I don't want to remove the curse? What if I want you to keep thinking of me until you lose your mind like how I'm losing my mind thinking of you?"

She blinks innocently. "I don't see how you're thinking of me is my problem."

He laughs.

"And FYI Humphrey," she says, leaning closer, "if you want to win me over, you're going have to be quicker on your feet and in your thinking." With that she saunters over to the door; hips swing side to side.

"Wait, are you telling me that you want me to chase you?"

"If I have to explain everything to you—"

"You do know that you make no sense whatsoever, right?"

"You're not supposed to understand me, Humphrey," she says; exasperation hinders her voice. "You're supposed to spend your whole life trying to figure me out like Fulcrum's last conundrum."

He flashes a lopsided grin. "Isn't it easier just to tell me that you like me too?"

"Depends," she then pause; her lips curve wider than Cheshire cat. "How long would it take you to realize that instead of questioning me, you should be kissing me instead?"

He laughs, knowing that a kiss is the one thing he has no problem obliging (for the rest of his life, he plans to do just that, if not more).


Author's Note. Surprised? I know I am. I never once thought that this story would actually get an ending so I'm happy that I did accomplish something. While I know there are probably questions left hanging like whatever happened to Chuck or how did that relationship end, I actually was going to build it into the story where CB have a heart to heart and Blair would find out why he left all the time. She would then realize that it's because they're both being dishonest with their feelings, mainly Blair about her feelings for Dan, which is greater than she thinks it was. (Hence when she does realize it, she and Chuck parted and she went to search for Dan.)

Alas, that didn't work out because I didn't know how to incorporate it into the story. Anyway, I wanted this story to show that while Dan loves Blair, he couldn't make her come to him even if he tries (recalled that Serena's said the same thing) and that it must be her who's willing, which ends up happen at the end because she's finally let go of her past, of her love for Chuck and is ready to accept him.

There won't be an epilogue. I've wrestled with this decision and I think it's best to end it here. Whatever happens to them is up to you, which brings me to my next point. Thanks to all the wonderful readers who have been so patient to see this story through. Without you, I'd not have the inspiration to finish so cheers! Thank you and hopefully you've enjoyed reading this as I've writing this.