Story Title: different names for the same thing
Character/Relationships: Blair/Nate; implied Blair/Chuck.
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: Mention of eating disorder.
Notes: written for round 1 of wbcw_las in which i was voted out and had the highest number of votes for being the worst entry! YAY ME.

He smiles.

and all her mind reads is blueblueblue.

His eyes. She's such a sucker. Her knees buckle.

The snow falls down, sprinkles in her hair.

"Kiss Me," She's able to muster.

He smiles, leans in.

She feels fourteen again.

Her hands tangled in his blonde hair.

With her eyes closed, she thinks...

again, again, again.

If her life was a snow globe everything would be perfect.

She runs her hands along the porcelain edges of the bowl and spits the remains of vomit left in her throat into the toilet.

When she looks outside the window. Perfect flakes are falling from the grey sky.

She wipes her mouth.

Decides that winter in New York is beautiful.

Nate texts her.

good morning, beautiful.

She shakes her head, curls flying behind her.

g'morning she mumbles to no one at all.

He takes her out for Sushi.

Three weeks before Christmas and he mentions things like Diamonds and Tiffany's and Audrey Hepburn and Spa Certificates.

"You changed your hair," he remarks when she bites into a California Roll.

"Do you like it?" She asks running her hand nervously through her new auburn strands.

He leans over tucks a stand behind her ear.

Smiles and smiles and smiles.

"Of course I do, sweetheart."

He dips a spider roll in soy sauce and dangles it near her red lips with chopsticks.

He shoves it into her mouth and she laughs.

Laughs without hindering.

He thinks it beautiful, her laugh.

Not much about Blair Waldorf isn't.

They make it to prom and she swears this is such a dream come true.

Theres a list in her side table of the things she likes loves about Nate.

His eyes.

His smell. ( laundry soap and sweat, a tinge of weed, and boy.)

The way he says her name.

The freckle on his left shoulder blade.

How he always has gum. Spearamint. (He tastes like it, always)

The feeling of his shirt in her fists.

His long eye lashes.

His hand inside of hers.

The green sweater with her heart pin sowed into his sleeve. (so my heart is always on your sleeve...)

That he loves her. ( always have, always will )

They are crowned prom king and queen.

She runs her mind over the list. Remembers it, knows it. Kisses him.

Forgets about Chuck in the corner of her eye and everything else that's ever run through her mind.

"I love you sweetheart,"

She smiles, kisses him with purpose, because they're meant to be.

(They are. they are, they are, they are.)

Breathes the night air in, wraps Nate's tuxedo jacket around her shoulders tight.

He holds the door open to The Plaza Hotel and she goes in.

Shines in her golden gown.

It's enough.

Her, him, now.

It's enough.