If We Were A Movie: Chapter 12!
Title: Never Say Never
Author: mpgirl
Pairing: Chuck/Blair
Chapter: 12
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: about a 1,000
Summary: If one didn't know any better, which Blair Waldorf does of course, one would think they were a young couple in love.
AN: Thanks to Alicia!
Previous Chapters.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Picture, you're the queen of everything
As far as the eye can see
Under your command
I will be your guardian
When all is crumbling
Steady your hand
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Reality:
“I knew you liked your kinks, but I never realized you were such a voyeur Chuck.” She smirks at him.
He looks at her, eyes hardening instantly to cover the pain so visible just seconds before. She doesn’t even have time to protest, he grabs her hand harshly and pulls her close to him, and into the nearest storage closet.
Once inside, Blair seethes, keeping her voice quiet, hoping not to give them away. “Hands off Bass! Who knows where they’ve been.”
His nostrils flare and he backs her into a corner. “You used to like my hands on you, Waldorf. Brushing your hair out of your face, drawing circles around your . . . ”
“No need to remind me of my brief mental insanity.” She tries to get way, but he takes her pale hands and thrusts them over her head, tangling his leg between her parted thighs, trapping her.
“Hey now, we both know it was never brief.” He bites back, leaning so close to talk in that way no one else does.
She forces her eyes to look into his, avoiding his full lips that are so tantalizingly close.
“Let me go, Bass.”
“You don’t really want me to.”
She rolls her eyes and brings her lower lip between her teeth, biting down in her impatience to be free of this precarious situation.
He cracks his neck, now flushed with memories of how she used to nibble on his lower lip until it swelled slightly, just enough pain for it to be pleasurable.
She notices the change in him. His amber eyes are still hard but the intensity that radiates from him isn’t just from the thrill of having the upper hand.
And in that moment, without him quite knowing it, the power shifts to her.
“Maybe not,” she whispers.
“What was that?” But she knows he heard her loud and clear.
“I’m not going to say it again.” She can’t believe she said it aloud once, let alone that he hasn’t caught her in the lie yet.
(Her eyes matched her mouth, and Blair Waldorf has never been as great of a liar as she likes to think she is.)
Her thumb traces circles on the back of his palm, and his grip loosens at the tender gesture. She smiles shyly, maneuvering his hand in hers, so they’re fingers are gently entwined.
If one didn’t know any better, which Blair Waldorf does of course, one would think they were a young couple in love.
He gapes at her, suspicion clouding his expression, but this is all she needs, with this opening and the slam of her foot, she’s free and he hits his head on the wall behind him.
“Son of a bitch!” He fumes.
She holds her ground. “It was the only way.”
“That’s your fucking problem, you only see things one way. Like you’re gonna die if it doesn’t turn out that way. Life and your plan diverged a hell of a long time ago Blair. Get with the program.”
“Oh just give up already Chuck! I’m never going to choose you over him, and I can’t see why anyone else would,” she counters.
His eyes level with her and she sees pain there. A blink of her eye and she convinces herself it was just the way the light was hitting his face.
Blair straightens her shoulder and speaks with an arrogance Chuck would admire in a different scenario. “You’re the one who needs to get with the program.”
And then she walks away, and he lets her. No faintly heard ‘Blair!’ as she turns the corner. She doesn't even notice the distinct feeling of his eyes on her.
He gives up.
She doesn’t feel bad for him, not really.
He’s the beast, she’s the beauty, and outside of fairytales that beast won’t ever change into the Upper East Side Prince she needs.
It's better he breaks early, before someone really gets hurt.
He’s not hurt, no one can hurt him, she repeats it over and over.
She doesn’t feel bad for him, not really.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Movie:
She smiles at him slightly. He doesn’t smile back. Chuck Bass rarely ever does, but he looks at her and motions the bartender she had just shooed away back over.
“Another.”
He doesn’t say anything to her. He seems so somber. This silence, it is killing her, but it is better than being alone.
“Are you going to just sit here the whole damn night Waldorf?” He questions, his eyes just grazing over her.
“Does it bother you?” She wonders aloud.
Chuck purses his lips, and then says so plainly, “Not really.”
It’s a small exchange, but she’ll take it. Small talk can lead to more. Maybe they can start over, be friends like before, she’d like that.
Maybe just sitting here is enough for now.
Maybe.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Reality:
And then she walked away, and he lets her. No faintly heard ‘Blair!’ as she turns the corner. She doesn't even notice the distinct feeling of his eyes on her.
She feels nothing but the weight of rejection from the person who was always there lingering in the background, watching and waiting.
She'd wanted it to be like last time. She'd wanted him to fix what was broken like he had when she arrived at Victrola, all those many weeks before.
Blair longs to go back to that, to the feel the sway in her step and the flush on her cheeks. She misses looking in the mirror and seeing her eyes shine like the very diamonds he had bought her.
Now when she studies her reflection, all she sees in darkness.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Author: mpgirl
Pairing: Chuck/Blair
Chapter: 12
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: about a 1,000
Summary: If one didn't know any better, which Blair Waldorf does of course, one would think they were a young couple in love.
AN: Thanks to Alicia!
Previous Chapters.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Picture, you're the queen of everything
As far as the eye can see
Under your command
I will be your guardian
When all is crumbling
Steady your hand
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Reality:
“I knew you liked your kinks, but I never realized you were such a voyeur Chuck.” She smirks at him.
He looks at her, eyes hardening instantly to cover the pain so visible just seconds before. She doesn’t even have time to protest, he grabs her hand harshly and pulls her close to him, and into the nearest storage closet.
Once inside, Blair seethes, keeping her voice quiet, hoping not to give them away. “Hands off Bass! Who knows where they’ve been.”
His nostrils flare and he backs her into a corner. “You used to like my hands on you, Waldorf. Brushing your hair out of your face, drawing circles around your . . . ”
“No need to remind me of my brief mental insanity.” She tries to get way, but he takes her pale hands and thrusts them over her head, tangling his leg between her parted thighs, trapping her.
“Hey now, we both know it was never brief.” He bites back, leaning so close to talk in that way no one else does.
She forces her eyes to look into his, avoiding his full lips that are so tantalizingly close.
“Let me go, Bass.”
“You don’t really want me to.”
She rolls her eyes and brings her lower lip between her teeth, biting down in her impatience to be free of this precarious situation.
He cracks his neck, now flushed with memories of how she used to nibble on his lower lip until it swelled slightly, just enough pain for it to be pleasurable.
She notices the change in him. His amber eyes are still hard but the intensity that radiates from him isn’t just from the thrill of having the upper hand.
And in that moment, without him quite knowing it, the power shifts to her.
“Maybe not,” she whispers.
“What was that?” But she knows he heard her loud and clear.
“I’m not going to say it again.” She can’t believe she said it aloud once, let alone that he hasn’t caught her in the lie yet.
(Her eyes matched her mouth, and Blair Waldorf has never been as great of a liar as she likes to think she is.)
Her thumb traces circles on the back of his palm, and his grip loosens at the tender gesture. She smiles shyly, maneuvering his hand in hers, so they’re fingers are gently entwined.
If one didn’t know any better, which Blair Waldorf does of course, one would think they were a young couple in love.
He gapes at her, suspicion clouding his expression, but this is all she needs, with this opening and the slam of her foot, she’s free and he hits his head on the wall behind him.
“Son of a bitch!” He fumes.
She holds her ground. “It was the only way.”
“That’s your fucking problem, you only see things one way. Like you’re gonna die if it doesn’t turn out that way. Life and your plan diverged a hell of a long time ago Blair. Get with the program.”
“Oh just give up already Chuck! I’m never going to choose you over him, and I can’t see why anyone else would,” she counters.
His eyes level with her and she sees pain there. A blink of her eye and she convinces herself it was just the way the light was hitting his face.
Blair straightens her shoulder and speaks with an arrogance Chuck would admire in a different scenario. “You’re the one who needs to get with the program.”
And then she walks away, and he lets her. No faintly heard ‘Blair!’ as she turns the corner. She doesn't even notice the distinct feeling of his eyes on her.
He gives up.
She doesn’t feel bad for him, not really.
He’s the beast, she’s the beauty, and outside of fairytales that beast won’t ever change into the Upper East Side Prince she needs.
It's better he breaks early, before someone really gets hurt.
He’s not hurt, no one can hurt him, she repeats it over and over.
She doesn’t feel bad for him, not really.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Movie:
She smiles at him slightly. He doesn’t smile back. Chuck Bass rarely ever does, but he looks at her and motions the bartender she had just shooed away back over.
“Another.”
He doesn’t say anything to her. He seems so somber. This silence, it is killing her, but it is better than being alone.
“Are you going to just sit here the whole damn night Waldorf?” He questions, his eyes just grazing over her.
“Does it bother you?” She wonders aloud.
Chuck purses his lips, and then says so plainly, “Not really.”
It’s a small exchange, but she’ll take it. Small talk can lead to more. Maybe they can start over, be friends like before, she’d like that.
Maybe just sitting here is enough for now.
Maybe.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Reality:
And then she walked away, and he lets her. No faintly heard ‘Blair!’ as she turns the corner. She doesn't even notice the distinct feeling of his eyes on her.
She feels nothing but the weight of rejection from the person who was always there lingering in the background, watching and waiting.
She'd wanted it to be like last time. She'd wanted him to fix what was broken like he had when she arrived at Victrola, all those many weeks before.
Blair longs to go back to that, to the feel the sway in her step and the flush on her cheeks. She misses looking in the mirror and seeing her eyes shine like the very diamonds he had bought her.
Now when she studies her reflection, all she sees in darkness.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .