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So! During my break I actually managed to write something! I know! I'm shocked too! It's Blair/Chuck (of course!) so I hope you guys enjoy!
Title: Heavy is the Cost
Author: mojotastic
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through episode 113, Thin Line.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except a somewhat worrying obsession with Blair/Chuck.
Summary: Chuck doesn't apologize and Blair never forgives.
Author’s Note: Feedback is my anti-drug. Seriously. Feedback. I will love you forever.
Heavy is the Cost
He calls her even though it’s 2:30 in the morning on a Monday night. He’s drunk, which he plans to use as an excuse. Chuck decided to tell her he was sorry three hours and six drinks ago. Now he finally feels ready.
On the hotel stationary in front of him, he’s outlined talking points. His eyes are bleary now, so he can barely make them out in the dim light from the bedside lamp.
“Sorry for calling you a whore. Not whore. Great.” Two blocks of words are nearly blacked out, but Chuck clearly remembers writing ‘I miss you’ and ‘I hate you’ and scrawling out both until the paper gave way beneath his pencil. He feels he has enough material for an apology.
She picks up on the eighth ring, not that he’s been counting.
It takes her ten seconds to finally speak. He’s not counting that either.
“What do you want? Do you know what time it is?” She sounds mad and tired and slightly curious.
“I…” His list isn’t helping. “How are you?” His words slur tellingly.
“You’re drunk.”
“I saw you yesterday. With Dan Humphrey. In Brooklyn. How the mighty have fallen.” This is going all wrong.
“What, are you stalking me now?” She’s angrier at the assertion that she would travel to Brooklyn of her free will than the fact that he might be following her.
“No. I just…needed to go there. For a reason-“This is perhaps not the best drunk dial conversation.
“I’m hanging up.” And she does.
Chuck Bass flops ungracefully back onto the bed and stares at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry.” But she’s gone and the dial tone doesn’t accept his apology.
***
Blair leaves her apartment building and rolls her eyes when she sees him leaning against the adjoining brownstone.
“I’m getting a restraining order,” Blair tosses blithely over her shoulder as she walks by.
He thinks he glimpses a smile as she passes. He can’t decide if this should comfort or worry him.
***
Serena is spinning the glass of champagne in her hand as Dan Humphrey glares at him. Humphrey reminds him of one of those small, yappy dogs that growls when people get too close to their owner. He can’t remember the boy straying more than five feet from Serena’s side all evening.
At the center of the room, Chuck’s father is making a speech thanking everyone for coming to his engagement dinner.
Chuck blows a kiss at Serena from across the room and she rolls her eyes and pretends to pay attention to the speech. Next to her, Blair’s lips quirk, just an inch, into the ghost of amusement.
When she notices him looking, her face turns blank and she looks away.
***
He catches her alone when the night is almost coming to a close. She’s getting her coat out of the massive walk in closet. He leans against the doorjamb as she searches.
“Are you planning on ignoring me forever?” The question comes out droll, instead of desperate, which was the effect he was going for.
“I don’t know. It is hard ignoring someone who refuses to leave you alone.” Her back is to him as she continues to search through the sea of swaying designer clothes.
“Yours is the red one on the right,” he says casually. She grabs the coat and has it on in record time. She’s trying to push past him but he stops her with an outstretched arm.
She stops in front of him, radiating annoyance. She arches her eyebrow and crosses her arms and looks about one second from ending his life. She’s never looked more hostile or more inviting. For the first time in months, Blair’s stony, beautiful face looks familiar in its contempt for him.
“What do you want from me?” The planes of her face contain more annoyance than wounded pride.
He doesn’t know why he decides to kiss her, but he does. He leans in and her hair smells like the expensive perfume she uses when it brushes his face.
He flatters himself that she doesn’t pull away for a few seconds more than shock would dictate. In those few seconds the kiss manages to be alarmingly simple and pure, the exact antithesis to everything they are, separate or together.
He flatters himself that when she hits him, it’s with far less force than she would normally use. Her language, however, makes up for this in its colorful expression of her disapproval.
As she walks out of the closet she touches her lips lightly with her fingertips. He thinks that the look on her face isn’t entirely disgust.
***
She sits down next to him on a park bench as he smokes. She’s smoothing the skirt of her uniform and straightening out the creases instead of looking at him.
“You’re skipping class?” He can’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. The words Blair Waldorf and delinquent never fit together in the same sentence.
“Wasn’t in the mood today.” She pulls at the hem of her skirt and Chuck notices the dirt that clings to her pristine knee-highs. Her hair is messier than he’s ever seen it before and the shirt tails of her uniform hang free. She looks like she took fashion tips from Serena’s school of looking like an effortlessly beautiful hobo.
She shivers in the wind and he takes his scarf off and deposits it around her shoulders. Blair continues to avoid looking at him.
“We could go back to the hotel. I have a fully stocked mini-bar. Clothing optional.”
“Is that what you do when you ditch? Drink in your hotel alone?” She finally makes eye contact and now he’s the one to break it.
“Well, when you put it like that Waldorf, it sounds sad.” He drops the cigarette and stamps it out with his foot but doesn’t look at her.
“It is sad. Both of us are sad,” she rises from the park bench and brushes off her clothes. Blair looks at him and takes a step backward.
Chuck joins her and they walk to the Palace in silence. Occasionally, as they walk their hands brush. Blair crosses her arms over her chest and shudders as if the contact chills her.
Chuck thinks he should say he’s sorry. He’s been trying to say it for months, only he veers away at the last minute every time. It’s like a game of chicken that he always loses.
He wants to apologize, but that would mean acknowledging what happened. In this way, too, they are similar. Like Blair, Chuck is trying to redefine reality. Perhaps if you ignore something long enough, it ceases to exist.
END
Hope you liked it! I have a feeling you'll be seeing more Blair/Chuck fic in the future. I love my Blair and Creepy Rapist Dude pairing.
~Morgan
Title: Heavy is the Cost
Author: mojotastic
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through episode 113, Thin Line.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except a somewhat worrying obsession with Blair/Chuck.
Summary: Chuck doesn't apologize and Blair never forgives.
Author’s Note: Feedback is my anti-drug. Seriously. Feedback. I will love you forever.
He calls her even though it’s 2:30 in the morning on a Monday night. He’s drunk, which he plans to use as an excuse. Chuck decided to tell her he was sorry three hours and six drinks ago. Now he finally feels ready.
On the hotel stationary in front of him, he’s outlined talking points. His eyes are bleary now, so he can barely make them out in the dim light from the bedside lamp.
“Sorry for calling you a whore. Not whore. Great.” Two blocks of words are nearly blacked out, but Chuck clearly remembers writing ‘I miss you’ and ‘I hate you’ and scrawling out both until the paper gave way beneath his pencil. He feels he has enough material for an apology.
She picks up on the eighth ring, not that he’s been counting.
It takes her ten seconds to finally speak. He’s not counting that either.
“What do you want? Do you know what time it is?” She sounds mad and tired and slightly curious.
“I…” His list isn’t helping. “How are you?” His words slur tellingly.
“You’re drunk.”
“I saw you yesterday. With Dan Humphrey. In Brooklyn. How the mighty have fallen.” This is going all wrong.
“What, are you stalking me now?” She’s angrier at the assertion that she would travel to Brooklyn of her free will than the fact that he might be following her.
“No. I just…needed to go there. For a reason-“This is perhaps not the best drunk dial conversation.
“I’m hanging up.” And she does.
Chuck Bass flops ungracefully back onto the bed and stares at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry.” But she’s gone and the dial tone doesn’t accept his apology.
***
Blair leaves her apartment building and rolls her eyes when she sees him leaning against the adjoining brownstone.
“I’m getting a restraining order,” Blair tosses blithely over her shoulder as she walks by.
He thinks he glimpses a smile as she passes. He can’t decide if this should comfort or worry him.
***
Serena is spinning the glass of champagne in her hand as Dan Humphrey glares at him. Humphrey reminds him of one of those small, yappy dogs that growls when people get too close to their owner. He can’t remember the boy straying more than five feet from Serena’s side all evening.
At the center of the room, Chuck’s father is making a speech thanking everyone for coming to his engagement dinner.
Chuck blows a kiss at Serena from across the room and she rolls her eyes and pretends to pay attention to the speech. Next to her, Blair’s lips quirk, just an inch, into the ghost of amusement.
When she notices him looking, her face turns blank and she looks away.
***
He catches her alone when the night is almost coming to a close. She’s getting her coat out of the massive walk in closet. He leans against the doorjamb as she searches.
“Are you planning on ignoring me forever?” The question comes out droll, instead of desperate, which was the effect he was going for.
“I don’t know. It is hard ignoring someone who refuses to leave you alone.” Her back is to him as she continues to search through the sea of swaying designer clothes.
“Yours is the red one on the right,” he says casually. She grabs the coat and has it on in record time. She’s trying to push past him but he stops her with an outstretched arm.
She stops in front of him, radiating annoyance. She arches her eyebrow and crosses her arms and looks about one second from ending his life. She’s never looked more hostile or more inviting. For the first time in months, Blair’s stony, beautiful face looks familiar in its contempt for him.
“What do you want from me?” The planes of her face contain more annoyance than wounded pride.
He doesn’t know why he decides to kiss her, but he does. He leans in and her hair smells like the expensive perfume she uses when it brushes his face.
He flatters himself that she doesn’t pull away for a few seconds more than shock would dictate. In those few seconds the kiss manages to be alarmingly simple and pure, the exact antithesis to everything they are, separate or together.
He flatters himself that when she hits him, it’s with far less force than she would normally use. Her language, however, makes up for this in its colorful expression of her disapproval.
As she walks out of the closet she touches her lips lightly with her fingertips. He thinks that the look on her face isn’t entirely disgust.
***
She sits down next to him on a park bench as he smokes. She’s smoothing the skirt of her uniform and straightening out the creases instead of looking at him.
“You’re skipping class?” He can’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. The words Blair Waldorf and delinquent never fit together in the same sentence.
“Wasn’t in the mood today.” She pulls at the hem of her skirt and Chuck notices the dirt that clings to her pristine knee-highs. Her hair is messier than he’s ever seen it before and the shirt tails of her uniform hang free. She looks like she took fashion tips from Serena’s school of looking like an effortlessly beautiful hobo.
She shivers in the wind and he takes his scarf off and deposits it around her shoulders. Blair continues to avoid looking at him.
“We could go back to the hotel. I have a fully stocked mini-bar. Clothing optional.”
“Is that what you do when you ditch? Drink in your hotel alone?” She finally makes eye contact and now he’s the one to break it.
“Well, when you put it like that Waldorf, it sounds sad.” He drops the cigarette and stamps it out with his foot but doesn’t look at her.
“It is sad. Both of us are sad,” she rises from the park bench and brushes off her clothes. Blair looks at him and takes a step backward.
Chuck joins her and they walk to the Palace in silence. Occasionally, as they walk their hands brush. Blair crosses her arms over her chest and shudders as if the contact chills her.
Chuck thinks he should say he’s sorry. He’s been trying to say it for months, only he veers away at the last minute every time. It’s like a game of chicken that he always loses.
He wants to apologize, but that would mean acknowledging what happened. In this way, too, they are similar. Like Blair, Chuck is trying to redefine reality. Perhaps if you ignore something long enough, it ceases to exist.
END
Hope you liked it! I have a feeling you'll be seeing more Blair/Chuck fic in the future. I love my Blair and Creepy Rapist Dude pairing.
~Morgan
cheerful
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