Disclaimer: No, the characters are not mine.

Pairing: Dan/Blair.

Summary: They are never quite together but never quite apart.

Timeline: I think six years after the finale (the final scene).

Notes: I don't know what is this. Sorry. I didn't even read it again to fix my mistakes, I just... I really don't know.

Your words in my memory.

(Did I love you? I don't know.

I just know I love you now.)


He writes. Mostly about her, hundreds turned thousands of pages filled with unadulterated longing that will only belong to him and her and to the way they are never quite together but never quite apart.

And he wonders, oh he wonders… what if…

She loved him.

What if she loved him?

The way her lips used to curve upwards, the way her eyes shone in the night, her soft fingers running across his skin…

She loved him.

Oh, yes, she did.


What if she didn't?

No. No, she didn't. Of course she didn't…

That's why she's gone.

But then he remembers her hair tangled in his neck, the lazy lips kissing his chin, her hands cupping his face before kissing him until she fell asleep, and he just knows…

Not even Blair is that good at deceit. She loved him.


Was it ever real? Was she fooling herself?

Sometimes at night, she feels as if she misses him. But that can't be true, because she didn't love him. Didn't she? She didn't love him, she loved Chuck.

(She loves Chuck, doesn't she?)

He was a distraction, something she used to distance herself from the reality that Chuck and her were not going to be.


Maybe she loved him? Maybe just a little bit? Maybe she loved him the way people only love in the good movies.

You know, that kind of life-changing love that only changes your life when you realize it's completely gone.

Did she love him?

Or maybe she just misses him. A lot.


He lays in bed alone. The cold on his side only reminding him of the way her body used to fit against his. (Like when she told him that his hair sucked and then she smiled and kissed his chin again, and he laughed just because he was so fucking happy.

And now this is the reality.

Is she sleeping by his side? Is he touching her the way he used to? Like when he ran a hand across her back and whispered silly things in her ear.

"You talk an awful lot, Humphrey," she would say.

Oh, but now the silence makes him realize that he only ever wanted to talk to her.


Oh, he loved her. She loved him, too.


Here they are, years later. Years filled with a divorce for him, a loveless marriage for her, and dull life that they don't want to live anymore (they never really wanted it, if they are honest with themselves).

They are more in love than ever. They are in love with what they could have been.

They never were, just because… Just because they gave up too soon, both in different ways.

And now all they have is that stupid doubt: What if…

What if we loved each now?

(It's not like they ever stopped.)