Chapter Text
she isn't quite sure what she was thinking, coming here, with chuck by her side no less. she’d spent the past months avoiding brooklyn (without him, there was no reason for her to leave the upper east side after all) and avoiding everyone that served as a reminder of what could have been. she must have written hundreds of emails by now, spilling out her guts and detailing every moment of her days, like he was her very own diary, every email ending with variations of i miss you, i’m sorry, where did you go, come home. every day, with every kiss pressed to her lips, she tells herself that she doesn’t need him, that there is absolutely no reason that she should be losing sleep over dan humphrey of all people, not when she finally has everything she’d ever wanted, and yet every night, when chuck has turned his back to her, she reaches out to the copy of inside nestled beneath her pillow, traces her finger along the worn out edges, and for a brief moment, allows herself to imagine a different fairytale.
and yet, here they are. when chuck had abruptly ended one of his many business trips (and really, god knows what he actually gets done during these trips since nothing about bass industries seems to have changed, not for the better, at least) to return to new york, she immediately knew something was wrong, every conversation like a ticking time bomb, and she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, until it did. it had been like her entire world just blew up when he’d brought up dan and jenny’s return to new york in the most nonchalant way possible, with a not-so-subtle scrutinizing glance her way. she’d tried her best to keep her face blank, but based on his raised brow she would say she didn’t do too well, not that she really noticed at the time. she had been so convinced that when humphrey finally came back, she would never forgive him, but now that he was actually coming back, she wasn’t so sure anymore.
chuck had been the one to insist on them going to lily’s party. blair was prepared to insist on going as courtesy and out of respect to lily and rufus, who have been nothing but nice to them despite all the falling outs, and had expected him to reject any idea of them celebrating the humphreys, but she guesses that this is another one of his tests, for despite the fact that she chose him, and he loved to act like he never had any competition at all, it seemed chuck bass is still that insecure boy that doesn’t think himself deserving of love.
she’s not at all surprised by the possessive arm that curls around her the entire time they’re at the party and the way he makes sure to press a kiss to her cheek or her lips every time someone’s gaze lingered on them. it makes her restless and suffocated, not that these feelings were strangers to her. in fact, in the past months, she’s become quite familiar with feeling like this. restless, because now aside from trying her best to run waldorf designs, which just is not going too well for her, and ordering dorota around, she, blair waldorf, has absolutely nothing to do. aside from chuck and dorota, she truly has no one. suffocated, because as always, chuck’s love only comes in extremes. sometimes, its smothering, other times, its cold and lonely. but that was fine, because when he loved her, it was all she ever wanted.
when she finally spots dan in the crowd, it was all she could do to not run after him right away. she’d imagined this very occasion so many times with so many different scenarios that she has no idea what to say (dan was always the one that was good with words anyway), and so she does what blair waldorf does best : denial. she avoids it, tries her best to pretend nothing has changed, like everything was just the same as it was the last time they saw each other, calls him humphrey like she used to (she only calls him dan in her head and in her dreams now). as soon as the words escape her lips, she regrets it. and so when the party is over, when chuck has once again turned his back to her, she slips out the back door, calls a cab and heads down to the only place that has ever felt like home for the first time in months.
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here they were, just as they used to be, except not. 6 months ago, she would have rested her head against his shoulder, or she would be curled up in his embrace, him lightly brushing his lips against the crown of her head, sometimes her cheek. even if they had been seated on opposite sides of the couch, there was always a sense of closeness. her legs draped across his lap, his fingers dancing over her ankles, or his arm stretched over the couch, just enough to touch her. now, they were pressed against the sides of the worn out couch on opposite ends, avoiding physical contact at all costs, even refusing to make eye contact, and it felt like they were seven seas apart. just as they used to be, except not.
she wonders what he's thinking. she always used to know what he was thinking, not because she actively wanted to (really, sometimes his opinions were truly unwarranted), but he always said what he was thinking, in a way she didn't know was possible. always wore his heart on a sleeve, so much so it worried her, having watched him get his heart broken by the golden girl time and time again. she'd never admit it, but she had promised herself she wouldn't do that to him, and yet. he's unreadable now, staring down at the ground, eyebrows furrowed, biting his lips like he always did when he was thinking hard. she wonders what he's thinking. is he cursing her out? is he forming all the insults in his head before spitting them out? maybe he's thinking what a fool she is, maybe he's thinking about the pretty blonde in the hospital, maybe he's thinking how much he hates her, about how he'd much rather be anywhere else but here, how he'd rather be with anyone in the world but her. she can't blame him, she'd do the same (if not worse. no, she'd definitely be doing much worse).
the silence stretches out, so quiet she was sure he could hear how quickly her heart was thumping. the sirens of an ambulance go off outside, matthew healy's voice echoing softly in her ears from the neighbour's speakers (i don't want your body but i hate to think about you with somebody else), the loud creaking of the pipes, rain pit-pattering against the windows. she hears him sigh, and this time, she's the one that breaks the silence.
"where have you been?"
"i thought we went over this blair, it's not any of your concern and i'm not telling you anything until you tell me why you're here."
his tone is still bitter, but soft and resigned. considering what it could have been, what it was just an hour ago, she takes it as a good sign that he's letting her talk at all.
"it's been horrible the past few months. it wasn't, this isn't how i imagined things would be. i thought waldorf designs would be at the top of its game, on the cover of every magazine, shops always full of some of the world's top stylists and celebrities, that i would be blair waldorf, high brow fashion designer, following in her mother's footsteps. instead im just blair, the end of the waldorf legacy. the sales at waldorf designs are horrible, i can't blackmail my way through life anymore, the name waldorf means nothing without any of the talent and skill, and the only time waldorf designs shows up on any tabloids or magazines is to call my designs ugly or tacky, or god forbid, boring. hell, i can't even be on tabloid fronts as chuck bass' girlfriend because bass industries is going to hell and the name chuck bass means nothing anymore other than for people to call him disgusting and worthless because girls are coming out about past experiences with him, all these sexual assault accusations and he won't even tell me if they're true! everytime i ask him about it he just tells me he loves me and i just, i don't know anymore, "
he's watching her carefully, taking in the tearful eyes and flushed cheeks, there is no sympathy in his eyes, but still he won't say anything. she sees the ghost of a bitter smile when she mentions the sexual assault accusations, and she wants to slap him, because how, how dare he rejoice at one of the worst things she's had to endure; (she doesn't stop to think about how selfish it is of her, to consider this her demise when victims have had to endure so much to gather up the courage to speak up, doesn't stop to think about what happened to jenny humphrey, twice, until much later), but for as much as she wants to slap him, she wants to kiss him, because it is just so dan of him to do so.
"being with chuck is not as i thought it would be either," her voice is quieter now, airing all her insecurities and fears for the first time in forever, "i'd always thought that no matter what people said, as long as we loved each other it would all be okay, but it's not." she's looking down at her hands, anxiously twisting her fingers, "what if this is how i'll have to live out the rest of my life? have i really lost everything?"
"no, you haven't lost everything." she looks up at him now, asking all the questions she won't say aloud. he must sense this, because he goes on, "you have you, blair, and that's better than anyone else on this planet as far as i'm concerned."
she's finally feels the warmth and relief she thinks she might have come here for, and shuts her eyes lightly, let's the tears that have been welling up in her eyes roll down her cheeks. she's already gotten much more than she expected, and stands up to leave when she feels his slender fingers curve around her wrists, asking her to stay.
when she turns towards him, she gets the surprise of her life. dan smiles at her, the most genuine smile she's seen in months, and pulls her flush against him, pressing his lips to hers. his kiss is soft, but demanding. asking, begging for more. they kiss like it's something they've done a million times before, like there was never any time lost. kissing dan is like a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows in cold weather and snow, cheeks hot and blushing, his childlike smile spreading against her lips. they kiss like they've never kissed before. the space between them burst slowly into sparkles, and her heart misses beats and she can't stop tugging at his shirt, like he just could not be close enough. maybe it lasted a minute, maybe it lasted an hour. all she knew was him and the softness of his lips, and later that night, when she reaches her climax, it feels like falling.