Divided Heart (Chuck/Blair)
Title: Divided Heart
Pairing: Chuck/Blair (Gossip Girl)
Length: 1411 words
Rating: Uh..oh man,I'm horrible at this...nothing too explicit...really
Summary: Blair's POV: Imagining of the promo scene of CB on the roof in the "Seventeen Candles" (1x08) promo
Note: This is my third fanfic ever and my first in literally like three years so...yeah...I warn you haha.Also,I ended up liking this so perhaps I'll write some more to follow this one,maybe a Chuck POV. Also,the fic is kind of "based" around the lyrics of "Divided Heart" by Kristina Hoffman
You, you catch me in
Deceit of what I might have been
Then I’m dying
And I’m begging for your healing touch
Any you, you make me feel
Summer sunlight then darkest chill
And I’m crazy, Oh I’m crazy, crazy over you
Craving for you
Tie me up, undone again
I am divided
Tie me up and down again
Divided heart
The cool November breeze spread itself around her shoulders, the reminder of a lover’s touch. Or the reminder of the lover who was not there. She wouldn’t cry because she refused to. She believed, no matter who suggested otherwise, that as long as she told herself not to, it wouldn’t happen. Life didn’t make sense otherwise. Her mother would be very disappointed if she knew Blair was hiding from her own party. The party is nothing without the hostess, darling, she would remind her. Blair often prided herself in this fact; if she wasn’t there, who would be? It was another one of those things she chose to believe, another one of those things she knew was not true. The faint whisper of the music crept inside of her ears though and here she was, faced with the very harsh reality, the very real fact that they were all going on without her, as she stood on the roof, watching the taxi cabs drive by, pretending she was still the queen of something. Hell, at this point she’d take anything she could get. She should have felt grand, on top of the world; but instead, she felt very small, very insignificant, like the child in the corner, watching the grown ups dining on brie and caviar. She caught herself in the reflection of the window and shuttered. Seventeen and she looked like seven year old, dressing up in Mommy’s best, trying on pearls that were not hers. Turning away with a snap of her neck, she reminded herself not to forget. They were hers. She owned them. They were for her. A boy had given them to her, a boy who loved her and had loved her from the moment he pressed his hand against hers; still the echoing of silence played over and over again in her head. Do you love me? Do you love me? And nothing. But she knew he would call. She knew he would call because he couldn’t possibly not. He couldn’t possibly not when they belonged together. This was one more thing she told herself if she believed hard enough, would be true. With each moment that passed though, she stopped believing just a little more.
“Cinderella’s not at her ball?”
Her body flung around as the sound of his voice prodded her chest. She wouldn’t have to had to turn to know it was him. Her body moved without her control though: when she drunkenly inched her way towards him, captured his lips in hers, fumbled with the ivory buttons of his shirt, clung to his chest even after they were done. She didn’t know why and honestly, she didn’t want to. In the answer, she feared, lay something truly terrifying or something she just didn‘t want to have to know. “It’s my party,”she snapped. He kept walking towards her but she was frozen in place. Nowhere to go and part of her prayed he’d stop. “And you’ll cry if you want to?” She rolled her eyes but the smile on his face remained. “What are you doing here, Chuck?” She wasn’t sure why she now felt her hand clinging to the side of the building. He was only an arms reach away and she was scared he might touch her. “I came to check on you, Princess. Word is you skipped out on your own party. Very dramatic,”he teased. She jumped just a bit at the silkiness of his voice. No, it must’ve been the air. She let go of the wall and paced to the other side of the roof, past him, grumbling only, “I’m fine.” It was better if she looked away. They were alone again and she didn’t need any reminder of last time. It was permanently seared in her memory. She told herself it was a mix of the champagne and the bright lights. It was disorienting and how could anyone honestly blame her for not resisting? No one could. Blame her, that is. “I’m fine,” she repeated, forcing her eyes to study some insipid flower pot on the side of the roof.
“I didn’t ask if you were fine.”
A cool shiver ran down her spine. God, why was it so cold up here? She was shivering and jumping like it was the middle of winter. The flower pot had failed to hold her attention though. Her eyes could no longer avoid his. If only it weren’t for the way he seemed to look at her, the faint smirk hidden, or perhaps not so hidden, beneath his lips. “Well I am…in case you were wondering. It’s my seventeenth birthday. Why wouldn’t I be happy?” “I didn’t ask if you were happy,”he replied but she pretended she didn’t hear. His head moved down towards the ground and he walked back towards her. This time she let him. It was a lot easier when he wasn’t looking directly at her. He stopped at her side and gazed out at the city skyline, clenching his jaw slightly. Another shiver. “You cold?” She shook her head and she thought she could make out a smile dancing on his lips. She wondered if he felt like a god up here, above it all or if like her, it only made him feel smaller. Just the slight possibility made something press tightly up against her chest.
“Nate’s not here…” he started So, that’s what he was here to talk about. Her eyes grabbed on to his. It was the first time she could look at him without looking away. “Nate loves me,” she affirmed, “Whatever he's doing, wherever he is, he will call at midnight" but before she could even get out the words, she could sense his comeback. Or maybe she knew it before she even said anything at all. And there it was in all its glory, right on the heels of her defense: “Care to make a wager?”. She wanted to grab him, hit him in the chest, tell him he was wrong, that he was wrong about her and wrong about her and Nate and wrong about whatever he thought happened the night before, while they were riding home in that limo. She didn’t though and chances were if she did grab him, that’s not how things would play out anyway.
“You really believe he’ll come running to your side like some Prince Charming?” She felt the words creep up her spine, but she couldn’t bare not to hear them. “Or is that just what you want to believe?” Suddenly, the cold air seemed to have vanished. She felt a fire erupting inside of her chest, boiling against her throat, and scorching the inside of her mouth. She wanted him to feel just an ounce of what she felt, standing over the skyline, because his smirk, the way his eyes glittered, the certainty in his voice, made her think he felt just the opposite, like he knew everything she didn’t, like he was forcing her out of where she was sure she belonged. She wanted to hurt him, just tear back a bit of control. “What happened last night was a mistake. It never should have happened. I didn’t know what I was doing!”she barked. He took a step towards her, no sign of surrender just yet.
“You didn’t know what you were doing?”
“No!” Another step closer.
“I think you did.”
“Well, you’re wrong.” Another step.
“I think for the first time in a awhile, you did.”
“I didn’t.” Another step.
“I think the girl up on that stage has been dying to come out for a long time.”
She swore he touched her hand first and that’s what made her do it. It was uncontrollable. It was instinct that made her kiss him. She told herself she was thinking of Nate. But as her arms fell around his neck and his hands explored to slope of her back, she was not thinking of Nate. He pulled away this time; she was almost waiting for him to ask if she was sure. The taste of his lips still saturated hers. She wanted to reach out for him, press herself once more against his chest, where she felt something, where she didn’t care what that something was. The lights of the Triborough Bridge caught his eyes as he studied her like a portrait and for a moment, she felt like everything below them was small and insignificant.
“Happy Birthday, Blair.”
Pairing: Chuck/Blair (Gossip Girl)
Length: 1411 words
Rating: Uh..oh man,I'm horrible at this...nothing too explicit...really
Summary: Blair's POV: Imagining of the promo scene of CB on the roof in the "Seventeen Candles" (1x08) promo
Note: This is my third fanfic ever and my first in literally like three years so...yeah...I warn you haha.Also,I ended up liking this so perhaps I'll write some more to follow this one,maybe a Chuck POV. Also,the fic is kind of "based" around the lyrics of "Divided Heart" by Kristina Hoffman
You, you catch me in
Deceit of what I might have been
Then I’m dying
And I’m begging for your healing touch
Any you, you make me feel
Summer sunlight then darkest chill
And I’m crazy, Oh I’m crazy, crazy over you
Craving for you
Tie me up, undone again
I am divided
Tie me up and down again
Divided heart
The cool November breeze spread itself around her shoulders, the reminder of a lover’s touch. Or the reminder of the lover who was not there. She wouldn’t cry because she refused to. She believed, no matter who suggested otherwise, that as long as she told herself not to, it wouldn’t happen. Life didn’t make sense otherwise. Her mother would be very disappointed if she knew Blair was hiding from her own party. The party is nothing without the hostess, darling, she would remind her. Blair often prided herself in this fact; if she wasn’t there, who would be? It was another one of those things she chose to believe, another one of those things she knew was not true. The faint whisper of the music crept inside of her ears though and here she was, faced with the very harsh reality, the very real fact that they were all going on without her, as she stood on the roof, watching the taxi cabs drive by, pretending she was still the queen of something. Hell, at this point she’d take anything she could get. She should have felt grand, on top of the world; but instead, she felt very small, very insignificant, like the child in the corner, watching the grown ups dining on brie and caviar. She caught herself in the reflection of the window and shuttered. Seventeen and she looked like seven year old, dressing up in Mommy’s best, trying on pearls that were not hers. Turning away with a snap of her neck, she reminded herself not to forget. They were hers. She owned them. They were for her. A boy had given them to her, a boy who loved her and had loved her from the moment he pressed his hand against hers; still the echoing of silence played over and over again in her head. Do you love me? Do you love me? And nothing. But she knew he would call. She knew he would call because he couldn’t possibly not. He couldn’t possibly not when they belonged together. This was one more thing she told herself if she believed hard enough, would be true. With each moment that passed though, she stopped believing just a little more.
“Cinderella’s not at her ball?”
Her body flung around as the sound of his voice prodded her chest. She wouldn’t have to had to turn to know it was him. Her body moved without her control though: when she drunkenly inched her way towards him, captured his lips in hers, fumbled with the ivory buttons of his shirt, clung to his chest even after they were done. She didn’t know why and honestly, she didn’t want to. In the answer, she feared, lay something truly terrifying or something she just didn‘t want to have to know. “It’s my party,”she snapped. He kept walking towards her but she was frozen in place. Nowhere to go and part of her prayed he’d stop. “And you’ll cry if you want to?” She rolled her eyes but the smile on his face remained. “What are you doing here, Chuck?” She wasn’t sure why she now felt her hand clinging to the side of the building. He was only an arms reach away and she was scared he might touch her. “I came to check on you, Princess. Word is you skipped out on your own party. Very dramatic,”he teased. She jumped just a bit at the silkiness of his voice. No, it must’ve been the air. She let go of the wall and paced to the other side of the roof, past him, grumbling only, “I’m fine.” It was better if she looked away. They were alone again and she didn’t need any reminder of last time. It was permanently seared in her memory. She told herself it was a mix of the champagne and the bright lights. It was disorienting and how could anyone honestly blame her for not resisting? No one could. Blame her, that is. “I’m fine,” she repeated, forcing her eyes to study some insipid flower pot on the side of the roof.
“I didn’t ask if you were fine.”
A cool shiver ran down her spine. God, why was it so cold up here? She was shivering and jumping like it was the middle of winter. The flower pot had failed to hold her attention though. Her eyes could no longer avoid his. If only it weren’t for the way he seemed to look at her, the faint smirk hidden, or perhaps not so hidden, beneath his lips. “Well I am…in case you were wondering. It’s my seventeenth birthday. Why wouldn’t I be happy?” “I didn’t ask if you were happy,”he replied but she pretended she didn’t hear. His head moved down towards the ground and he walked back towards her. This time she let him. It was a lot easier when he wasn’t looking directly at her. He stopped at her side and gazed out at the city skyline, clenching his jaw slightly. Another shiver. “You cold?” She shook her head and she thought she could make out a smile dancing on his lips. She wondered if he felt like a god up here, above it all or if like her, it only made him feel smaller. Just the slight possibility made something press tightly up against her chest.
“Nate’s not here…” he started So, that’s what he was here to talk about. Her eyes grabbed on to his. It was the first time she could look at him without looking away. “Nate loves me,” she affirmed, “Whatever he's doing, wherever he is, he will call at midnight" but before she could even get out the words, she could sense his comeback. Or maybe she knew it before she even said anything at all. And there it was in all its glory, right on the heels of her defense: “Care to make a wager?”. She wanted to grab him, hit him in the chest, tell him he was wrong, that he was wrong about her and wrong about her and Nate and wrong about whatever he thought happened the night before, while they were riding home in that limo. She didn’t though and chances were if she did grab him, that’s not how things would play out anyway.
“You really believe he’ll come running to your side like some Prince Charming?” She felt the words creep up her spine, but she couldn’t bare not to hear them. “Or is that just what you want to believe?” Suddenly, the cold air seemed to have vanished. She felt a fire erupting inside of her chest, boiling against her throat, and scorching the inside of her mouth. She wanted him to feel just an ounce of what she felt, standing over the skyline, because his smirk, the way his eyes glittered, the certainty in his voice, made her think he felt just the opposite, like he knew everything she didn’t, like he was forcing her out of where she was sure she belonged. She wanted to hurt him, just tear back a bit of control. “What happened last night was a mistake. It never should have happened. I didn’t know what I was doing!”she barked. He took a step towards her, no sign of surrender just yet.
“You didn’t know what you were doing?”
“No!” Another step closer.
“I think you did.”
“Well, you’re wrong.” Another step.
“I think for the first time in a awhile, you did.”
“I didn’t.” Another step.
“I think the girl up on that stage has been dying to come out for a long time.”
She swore he touched her hand first and that’s what made her do it. It was uncontrollable. It was instinct that made her kiss him. She told herself she was thinking of Nate. But as her arms fell around his neck and his hands explored to slope of her back, she was not thinking of Nate. He pulled away this time; she was almost waiting for him to ask if she was sure. The taste of his lips still saturated hers. She wanted to reach out for him, press herself once more against his chest, where she felt something, where she didn’t care what that something was. The lights of the Triborough Bridge caught his eyes as he studied her like a portrait and for a moment, she felt like everything below them was small and insignificant.
“Happy Birthday, Blair.”