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If you were a freshman at Constance or a pitiful insolvent Lower West-sider who starves for the details of every shining elites new amour or blackmail scandal, you'd be expecting Blair Waldorf to saunter down out of the new golden breakfast palace no more than a block away from her penthouse right around this time of morning accompanied by her loyal maid carrying Prada or Bendels to add impression. You'd expect our Manhattan princess to be hand-in-hand with her royal fiancé, or her unfortunately characteristic sex fling business dealer, possibly even the poor ignorant Brooklyn-boy writer she'd find her out of her mind now to consider being attracted to.
And you wouldn't expect any less from her golden companion Serena Van Der Woodsen. Anyone with a sense of routine (or basic decency genuine enough to be considered respect) would assume New York's it girl to be cruising the busy streets of her city with her phone to her ear conversing with a new business partner or (more likely) her best friend while chattering about her new erotic loverboy she only met by chance around this time of morning. On her way to anywhere she deems suitable for a relaxing coffee break where she'll feel proud for ordering a two table seat only to wait for someone to join her subconsciously and drink her cold flat white by the window which is appropriate enough to suit the weather this season.
You may be disappointed to find out from anyone searching for the same women on the same January 2nd that neither girls discussed were anywhere near the positions you had predicted (or moreso hoped) them to be, and you would never find out that the girls were settled in their bedsheets in the brunettes respective room entangled in the limbs of the other as they read the New York Times and drank their warm and sweet Jasmine, making brief comments as they went along, but mostly finding console in their silence.
If you asked them what they were doing at this time of morning they'd give you the benefit of the doubt of being somewhat closer to correct than whats true in reality, telling a fake tale of crossing 37th to meet someone or pick up anything they craved or lacked. They might make you believe they were lacing their
louboutins or touching up their lipgloss preparing for a long evening of exaggerated ordeals. When in reality they had no intention of leaving their bed or their arms until the mid-afternoon.
If you could look into their minds you would see a calming scenery and an easily deciphered monologue. Rather than a scramble of thoughts and cloud of stress like every other day. You would see they felt settled and satisfied with their position, which isn't common for them or anyone on this side of the city.
In their infamous (and not particularly proud) highschool years the two young women were never known to be settled or organized with their romantic partners and sexual encounters, but since highschool was 5 years ago and they had never since heard those chimes blowing through the mouths of every city landmark and every Gossip Girl notification, they had forgot they ever once existed. They were satisfied with each other, and they never had anything to worry about as long as they had the others lips to kiss and clothes to rip off every night.
They may be too reluctant, or shy, to admit how happy they were whenever they were together. Serena was known for her rocky romantic history but with Blair it was the first smooth sailing she'd ever experienced. Blair took a long time to accept herself and who she was too scared to admit she was, but she always felt comfortable enough to confide in Serena. Given her past of inconsistent playboys and false unhappy connections, having her best friend and newfound life partner was the most warm feeling she could only dream of deserving. But she would never tell you if you asked.
"Let me see the tea, my dear?" Blair moreso ordered than requested.
"It's nearly empty, and it's getting cold. Would you like me to call Dorota to fill us another serving?"
"I gave her the day off. She's probably with Vanya and the kids in their substandard Queens apartment." Blair waved her hand away from herself when offered the saucière, the blonde automatically knowing to set it on the bedside table.
"I never was a huge fan of Jasmine anyway. God, that top is hideous. Doesn't match the bag at all" Blair pursed her lips together as she squinted askance at the fresh magazine page. Serena chuckled at the sting in her lovers voice.
"And you've never been a huge fan of fleeces either. Although you'd look insanely hot in one." You could hear the grin in the blondes voice without looking.
Blair tried to fight the small smile breaking through her features "And you would pull off every outfit in this magazine a hundred times better than any of these models. I'm sure they'd be flying off the shelves to see Serena Van Der Woodsen in a sleeveless flutter." The brunette remarked pointing to another model on the page.
"I have like six of those, and you know you'd be the first to see before I wear them out." Serena stroked the older girls stomach with her knuckles as she turned her head around her shoulder to kiss her on the cheek. Then on the lips. Where they stayed for a couple seconds, connected. Only pulling away after a few tongues exchanged and giggles pouring out into other mouths.
"You know I know you look good in anything. And I love you." slipped through the lips of a proud blonde who spoke in a tone that sounded like she knew she was right. Only met with a grin and an eyebrow raise.
"Everyone knows, and I love you too." For maybe the 30th time this morning, Blair let a genuine smile appear on her bright features as the words left her mouth. She seemed to do that a lot more often when with her best friend.
They both snickered once again and exchanged more kisses to foreheads and shoulders, before returning to their earlier activities of tea and magazines. They were happy to spend their lazy morning this way, entangled and satisfied.
Anyone could observe and be able to say neither of them had ever appeared so settled and carefree with their previous partners on simple mornings like these. Always a new scheme or new issue or new organization they needed to follow through with and connect loose roots to. They never had to worry about that together. They were comfortable as they were, with no intention of going back.