One shot - When two hearts start beating together (I’m in love, woo!)
Title: When two hearts start beating together (I'm in love, woo!)
Author:
choco_dreamer
Characters: Blair, Chuck
Rating: PG for very little use of certain unpleasant four letter words - and no, it's not just 'Nate'. [No offence to all the Nate fans out here! It's only a jk - possibly of bad taste?]
Word Count: 1720
A/N: I'm going to pretend most of 2.20 never happened - I couldn't get myself to handle writing CB with CV in the background - I would get really angsty over it and I write horrible angst. But this is not pure fluff either [I guess I write horrible fluff too - eek, maybe I just write horrible everything ><]. Set after 2.19 and contains a slight spoiler from the synopsis for 2.21. A one off fic, and the title is from a Kylie Minogue song that's been playing in my head.
Summary: Stupid hearts and heart pins.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything - technically, not even this laptop I’m using.
“Miss Blair, mail for you.” Dorota stands outside her open room door, a crisp white envelop in one hand and the letter opener in the other.
“Leave it by the piano Dorota. I’ll check it before I leave to take breakfast for Nate.” Blair leans in to the mirror, applying the last stroke of mascara. There, perfect. She looked like a Chinadoll - beautiful and vulnerable. Maybe Nate would want to comfort her again. Maybe he’d put his arms around her and she’d look up at him with her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling, and he would touch her hair and she would touch his face and he would lean in and - oh! Yes, there were definite possibilities of looking like a Chinadoll. Not that she was thinking of any. Of course not! Her and Nate were purely platonic. A friend being there for another friend in their time of need - and that was it. So what if he took her to all his family gatherings now. So what if she had just smiled and kept quiet when Tripp had asked her whether she was Nate’s new girlfriend. She hadn’t said anything because she had just stuffed some of that delicious pie in her mouth and she couldn’t possibly say anything intelligible without spraying some of it all over Tripp’s face. Not because she didn’t want to admit to Tripp the true nature of hers’ and Nate’s relationship. Clearly.
She stores the make up back in place and walks into the living room, stopping at the piano to pick up the envelop. Her eyes fall on the sender’s address - it was from the Colony Club! Nate’s grandfather had promised to talk to them if Blair, uh, helped Nate see the advantages of going to an Ivy League school like Yale - and by the looks of how things had gone, she was a great little helper! Maybe this was it. She grabs the letter opener and opens the envelop, quickly unfolding the letter and skimming through the content.
“We are please to inform you…impressed with your application…an interview to…next Sunday at 10am.” Next Sunday? Well that didn’t leave her much time. There were so many things that needed being done! She was going to have to write it all down in a list for Dorota.
“Miss Blair,”- speaking of Dorota - “Mister Chuck for you.”
What.
She turns around and finds Chuck Bass, hands in pockets, strolling into the living room - her living room - acting like he owns the whole damn building. Well he owned nearly every other building in the UES, so it’s possible he just gets confused as to which he owned and which he didn’t.
“What are you doing here, Bass?”
“Good morning to you too, Waldorf,” he drawls.
“Dorota, I thought I told you never to let this piece of dirt into the house again!”
“I told Mister Chuck -” Dorata splutters. “But she couldn’t resist the Bass charm,” Chuck finishes off, winking at Dorota. Dorota looks incensed and walks off, muttering in Polish.
“What do you want, Chuck?” She’s not sure she’s ready for this today.
“My, my, someone’s in a hurry to chase away their guests,” he smirks, “Afraid dear Nathanial will starve to death if he doesn’t get his breakfast in time?”
There was no need for him to look so happy at that thought.
“I have a lot of things to do, so I would appreciate it if you could be quick.” she bites out crisply.
For a moment it looks like he might say something funny about what Blair just said, but changes his mind when he sees her glaring face.
“I didn’t think you’d end up being Nate’s carer girl, making his breakfast every fucking day.”
And suddenly she’s so angry. How dare he barge into her house, without so much as a necklace from Tiffany to say he’s sorry, and stand here insulting her!
“Don’t pretend I didn’t fight for you Chuck.” Her voice is dangerously low and she tries to hold back the tears that start filling up in her eyes.
“Somehow I don’t’ think running back into the arms of Nathanial is called fighting, Blair.”
So that’s what he thought? That she just pranced right into the open arms of Nate as soon as the going got tough? Maybe he thought that the little fairies Nate talks of seeing when he’s stoned senseless were real too. Well then she should probably explain things a little bit.
“Oh, I fought for you Chuck! I fought finger and nail until I realised I was scratching at a door that turned out to be a wall.” The tears were now falling down her cheeks hard and fast as the words that were rolling off her mouth. Somewhere between the pent up anger and frustration that was boiling inside of her, spewing in the form of words, she was aware of being thankful for applying waterproof make up - or her face will be looking like a punched up panda’s right now. Thank god for messed-up musings about Nate wanting to comfort a teary-eyed Blair. “I talked you down from a rooftop ledge and all you could do was leave me on an empty bed and go play with your Thai hookers. I gave you my heart and all you could do was crush it into pieces and fling it back at my face!”
“You never gave me your heart,” Chuck mutters to the floor.
“What?” There must be wax in her ears because she didn’t think she heard him correctly.
Chuck looks up, directly into her eyes. “You never gave me your heart, Blair. You gave it to Nate, you gave it to Lord-fucking-Marcus, but you never gave it to me.”
“Uh, wha - I - you - I don’t believe this.” She’s nearly speechless. [Blair Waldorf is never really speechless - she prides herself in the witty remarks and retorts she makes]. She feels like she wants to laugh hysterically and slap him across the face, hard, at the same time. She wants to shake this poor-excuse-for-a-human-being standing in front of her, admittedly starting to look at her a bit nervously right now [maybe it’s the murderous expression on her face? Oh no, she hopes she’s not being too expressive towards someone who hardly knows what feelings are], until he gets some sense knocked into that thick head of his or drops dead on the floor, whichever comes first. She takes a step forward, her fingers still curled tightly around the letter opener. Chuck shuffles a small step backwards. She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself down. It wouldn’t be becoming of a young lady trying to get into the Colony Club after all to go around stabbing people with letter openers. “You put me through living hell, tear me down to little pieces, drive me into a breakdown, and now all you can talk about is some stupid, heart pin?”
“It’s not stupid, Blair. I know what it means to you. It’s your way of showing the world where your heart belongs.”
“What, that -”
“Let me finish, Blair.”
Oh, so he was on a roll now, was he?
“You never gave me that heart pin because you don’t want the world to know about you and me - Chuck Bass. Chuck Bass, the womanizer. Chuck Bass, the alcoholic. Chuck Bass, who has never had a mother and his father never loved him.”
“Don’t make this about your insecurities, Chuck!”
“I’m not making this about my insecurities, Blair, I’m making it about yours. You can’t be happy without knowing that the rest of the world approves of you and your perfect little life. You want your Prince Charming, but you can’t handle it when all you get is a Dark Knight, so you chace your Prince Charming until that fairytale in your head is complete and you can be happy again.”
“I can’t be happy loving someone who doesn’t know if he loves me back!” she shouts at him, her voice breaking. “I never gave you that heart pin because I don’t have to Chuck. I know where my heart is all the time - I know who it belongs to. I don’t need to convince myself I love you because I know, every fucking day, that I do!” She takes a deep breath. She needs to get herself together. She blows her nose into the tissue in her hand - a very rough tissue. She looks down and thinks she’s going to get a mild panic attack when she sees it’s the letter from the Colony Club she’s blown her nose into. Thank you God, for making her day that much worse.
There’s a pause, and - “is that what it takes, Blair?” Chuck asks softly. “You need me to say those three words to you?”
And then Blair looks at him. For the first time in weeks, she takes a step back in her minds eye and takes a proper look at him. At that soft hair she loves burying her hands in, that strong jaw she loves running her thumb along, and those intense eyes she could just get lost in forever. A hundred and one memories come flooding back into her head and she has to shut her eyes to stop them from overpowering her.
Is it?
“I don’t know, Chuck.” And she doesn’t.
He steps closer, until he’s only inches away from her and she can feel the warmth of his body encircling her. Her heart starts thumping faster and she thinks that her head is going to explode from the all the noise it’s making. Or maybe she’ll just go deaf and won’t be able to hear what Chuck is about to say next. Well, that wouldn’t be too cool.
Stop beating so loudly you stupid heart.
He takes her face gently in both his hands. She unknowingly places a palm over his chest and is surprised to find his heart beating as fast as hers. Beautiful brown eyes meet beautiful brown eyes.
“Blair Waldorf, I love you.”
And she knows that it’s enough. Enough to erase the heartbreaks of the past, and enough to face the heartaches of the future. “I love you too, Chuck Bass,” she whispers as his lips come crashing down on hers.
Author:
choco_dreamer
Characters: Blair, Chuck
Rating: PG for very little use of certain unpleasant four letter words - and no, it's not just 'Nate'. [No offence to all the Nate fans out here! It's only a jk - possibly of bad taste?]
Word Count: 1720
A/N: I'm going to pretend most of 2.20 never happened - I couldn't get myself to handle writing CB with CV in the background - I would get really angsty over it and I write horrible angst. But this is not pure fluff either [I guess I write horrible fluff too - eek, maybe I just write horrible everything ><]. Set after 2.19 and contains a slight spoiler from the synopsis for 2.21. A one off fic, and the title is from a Kylie Minogue song that's been playing in my head.
Summary: Stupid hearts and heart pins.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything - technically, not even this laptop I’m using.
“Miss Blair, mail for you.” Dorota stands outside her open room door, a crisp white envelop in one hand and the letter opener in the other.
“Leave it by the piano Dorota. I’ll check it before I leave to take breakfast for Nate.” Blair leans in to the mirror, applying the last stroke of mascara. There, perfect. She looked like a Chinadoll - beautiful and vulnerable. Maybe Nate would want to comfort her again. Maybe he’d put his arms around her and she’d look up at him with her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling, and he would touch her hair and she would touch his face and he would lean in and - oh! Yes, there were definite possibilities of looking like a Chinadoll. Not that she was thinking of any. Of course not! Her and Nate were purely platonic. A friend being there for another friend in their time of need - and that was it. So what if he took her to all his family gatherings now. So what if she had just smiled and kept quiet when Tripp had asked her whether she was Nate’s new girlfriend. She hadn’t said anything because she had just stuffed some of that delicious pie in her mouth and she couldn’t possibly say anything intelligible without spraying some of it all over Tripp’s face. Not because she didn’t want to admit to Tripp the true nature of hers’ and Nate’s relationship. Clearly.
She stores the make up back in place and walks into the living room, stopping at the piano to pick up the envelop. Her eyes fall on the sender’s address - it was from the Colony Club! Nate’s grandfather had promised to talk to them if Blair, uh, helped Nate see the advantages of going to an Ivy League school like Yale - and by the looks of how things had gone, she was a great little helper! Maybe this was it. She grabs the letter opener and opens the envelop, quickly unfolding the letter and skimming through the content.
“We are please to inform you…impressed with your application…an interview to…next Sunday at 10am.” Next Sunday? Well that didn’t leave her much time. There were so many things that needed being done! She was going to have to write it all down in a list for Dorota.
“Miss Blair,”- speaking of Dorota - “Mister Chuck for you.”
What.
She turns around and finds Chuck Bass, hands in pockets, strolling into the living room - her living room - acting like he owns the whole damn building. Well he owned nearly every other building in the UES, so it’s possible he just gets confused as to which he owned and which he didn’t.
“What are you doing here, Bass?”
“Good morning to you too, Waldorf,” he drawls.
“Dorota, I thought I told you never to let this piece of dirt into the house again!”
“I told Mister Chuck -” Dorata splutters. “But she couldn’t resist the Bass charm,” Chuck finishes off, winking at Dorota. Dorota looks incensed and walks off, muttering in Polish.
“What do you want, Chuck?” She’s not sure she’s ready for this today.
“My, my, someone’s in a hurry to chase away their guests,” he smirks, “Afraid dear Nathanial will starve to death if he doesn’t get his breakfast in time?”
There was no need for him to look so happy at that thought.
“I have a lot of things to do, so I would appreciate it if you could be quick.” she bites out crisply.
For a moment it looks like he might say something funny about what Blair just said, but changes his mind when he sees her glaring face.
“I didn’t think you’d end up being Nate’s carer girl, making his breakfast every fucking day.”
And suddenly she’s so angry. How dare he barge into her house, without so much as a necklace from Tiffany to say he’s sorry, and stand here insulting her!
“Don’t pretend I didn’t fight for you Chuck.” Her voice is dangerously low and she tries to hold back the tears that start filling up in her eyes.
“Somehow I don’t’ think running back into the arms of Nathanial is called fighting, Blair.”
So that’s what he thought? That she just pranced right into the open arms of Nate as soon as the going got tough? Maybe he thought that the little fairies Nate talks of seeing when he’s stoned senseless were real too. Well then she should probably explain things a little bit.
“Oh, I fought for you Chuck! I fought finger and nail until I realised I was scratching at a door that turned out to be a wall.” The tears were now falling down her cheeks hard and fast as the words that were rolling off her mouth. Somewhere between the pent up anger and frustration that was boiling inside of her, spewing in the form of words, she was aware of being thankful for applying waterproof make up - or her face will be looking like a punched up panda’s right now. Thank god for messed-up musings about Nate wanting to comfort a teary-eyed Blair. “I talked you down from a rooftop ledge and all you could do was leave me on an empty bed and go play with your Thai hookers. I gave you my heart and all you could do was crush it into pieces and fling it back at my face!”
“You never gave me your heart,” Chuck mutters to the floor.
“What?” There must be wax in her ears because she didn’t think she heard him correctly.
Chuck looks up, directly into her eyes. “You never gave me your heart, Blair. You gave it to Nate, you gave it to Lord-fucking-Marcus, but you never gave it to me.”
“Uh, wha - I - you - I don’t believe this.” She’s nearly speechless. [Blair Waldorf is never really speechless - she prides herself in the witty remarks and retorts she makes]. She feels like she wants to laugh hysterically and slap him across the face, hard, at the same time. She wants to shake this poor-excuse-for-a-human-being standing in front of her, admittedly starting to look at her a bit nervously right now [maybe it’s the murderous expression on her face? Oh no, she hopes she’s not being too expressive towards someone who hardly knows what feelings are], until he gets some sense knocked into that thick head of his or drops dead on the floor, whichever comes first. She takes a step forward, her fingers still curled tightly around the letter opener. Chuck shuffles a small step backwards. She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself down. It wouldn’t be becoming of a young lady trying to get into the Colony Club after all to go around stabbing people with letter openers. “You put me through living hell, tear me down to little pieces, drive me into a breakdown, and now all you can talk about is some stupid, heart pin?”
“It’s not stupid, Blair. I know what it means to you. It’s your way of showing the world where your heart belongs.”
“What, that -”
“Let me finish, Blair.”
Oh, so he was on a roll now, was he?
“You never gave me that heart pin because you don’t want the world to know about you and me - Chuck Bass. Chuck Bass, the womanizer. Chuck Bass, the alcoholic. Chuck Bass, who has never had a mother and his father never loved him.”
“Don’t make this about your insecurities, Chuck!”
“I’m not making this about my insecurities, Blair, I’m making it about yours. You can’t be happy without knowing that the rest of the world approves of you and your perfect little life. You want your Prince Charming, but you can’t handle it when all you get is a Dark Knight, so you chace your Prince Charming until that fairytale in your head is complete and you can be happy again.”
“I can’t be happy loving someone who doesn’t know if he loves me back!” she shouts at him, her voice breaking. “I never gave you that heart pin because I don’t have to Chuck. I know where my heart is all the time - I know who it belongs to. I don’t need to convince myself I love you because I know, every fucking day, that I do!” She takes a deep breath. She needs to get herself together. She blows her nose into the tissue in her hand - a very rough tissue. She looks down and thinks she’s going to get a mild panic attack when she sees it’s the letter from the Colony Club she’s blown her nose into. Thank you God, for making her day that much worse.
There’s a pause, and - “is that what it takes, Blair?” Chuck asks softly. “You need me to say those three words to you?”
And then Blair looks at him. For the first time in weeks, she takes a step back in her minds eye and takes a proper look at him. At that soft hair she loves burying her hands in, that strong jaw she loves running her thumb along, and those intense eyes she could just get lost in forever. A hundred and one memories come flooding back into her head and she has to shut her eyes to stop them from overpowering her.
Is it?
“I don’t know, Chuck.” And she doesn’t.
He steps closer, until he’s only inches away from her and she can feel the warmth of his body encircling her. Her heart starts thumping faster and she thinks that her head is going to explode from the all the noise it’s making. Or maybe she’ll just go deaf and won’t be able to hear what Chuck is about to say next. Well, that wouldn’t be too cool.
Stop beating so loudly you stupid heart.
He takes her face gently in both his hands. She unknowingly places a palm over his chest and is surprised to find his heart beating as fast as hers. Beautiful brown eyes meet beautiful brown eyes.
“Blair Waldorf, I love you.”
And she knows that it’s enough. Enough to erase the heartbreaks of the past, and enough to face the heartaches of the future. “I love you too, Chuck Bass,” she whispers as his lips come crashing down on hers.