fic;gossip girl.
-So I kind of forgot about the whole, B/C vegas idea as soon as I started writing it and ended up with something totally different.
-I actually don't hate it , so feedback is appreciated.
Title: Conversations with the Wind
Characters/Pairings: Blair; Blair/Chuck. Brief mentionings of various characters and very vague Blair/Dan. Blair/Nate.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,030.
Spoilers: very vague spoilers for 1x18"Much 'I Do' About Nothing"
Summary: Sometimes she regretted letting him go, sometimes she wished things were different. But Blair knew she couldn't have been happy with him. But she wasn't happy without him either. .
Disclaimer: Character death. GG belongs to Cecily von Ziegesar, Josh Schwartz, and the CW. Not mine.
Her hair was shorter now, cut in the fashion of her idol. She felt lighter, like things were different but they weren't. It was only one month since graduation and five days since the funeral. She was still wearing black, she was walking around like a widow. It was fitting. Serena called them the married couple, even after the fact. And now, she was completely alone, Nate was long gone and Serena left for California three hours ago. She considered calling Dan but shook her head at the ridiculousness of the thought, they hadn't talked since that horrible night six months ago. When they both walked in the wrong place at the wrong time at separate instances and then walked into each other on the street, leading to something she never wanted to mention, remember, or forget . So she was alone, and ready to start over. She got her hair done after Serena left. It was something Lily van der Woodsen said to her when Blair was just 12 after he pushed her in the mud and everyone laughed at her and said she deserved it "when you feel like your life has ended, begin a different one." And that's exactly what she had convinced herself she was doing. She got her hair cut, a mani & pedi done in a peach color called 'rebirth'. And that's what she wanted to do. She had four days before leaving for Yale. and she wasn't going to Yale acting this, like someone who had lost everything, even if she had.
Her memories were vivd. She felt like she still sitting in the chateau in Tuscany laying on the silk sheets scowling as he walked in. She remember his exact excuse, down to the syllable, about why he was exactly two days and three hours late. She recalled trying to argue with him but ending up in bed with him instead. She remembered how he kissed her and how different it was from Nate, Dan and all the others who came before him. He kissed her like he really knew her, there was a straight forward effortlessness to it, how he didn't try to be gentle or caring. He kissed her like he needed her and he did. He was different then anyone she'd ever kissed, anyone she'd ever loved. And she knew no one would who came after could compare, not that anyone had come after yet.
Blair hated funerals. She hated the feeling in her heart. Like it had been completely shattered, like the glass of red wine he smashed on her floor when she told him it was over, for good. She remembered going up to him the next day absolutely furious and regretful "You stained my fucking carpet , Bass." He looked at her, grinned and told her that she'd never get rid of him, even when he got died fifty years from then . It took Dorota weeks to get the stain out. It was almost half a year since that happened and never did she thinking she'd have to listen to Bart Bass give a eulogy on his beloved son. Sometimes she regretted letting him go, sometimes she wished things were different. But Blair knew she couldn't have been happy with him. But she wasn't happy without him either.
Even when they weren't together, she always found comfort in knowing he was around, somewhere. Even after she told him she couldn't do this, them, anymore, she still looked forward to his spontaneous appearances in her life. She would've never admitted this to anyone, especially him but she loved when he found some reason to talk to her, even though it was usually to insult her. But she also knew, that he already had her all figured out.
Blair hated packing and she usually had Dorota do it for her. But she needed to occupy herself in some way. She took every black item of clothing she owned ,excluding her favorite little black dress and shoved it in a bag to get sent to charity or something. She took everything out of the shopping bags that had been accumulating on her floor since she'd found out and packed it all away in a suitcase, adding in a few of her favorite items from her closet. She wasn't taking the old Blair with her to Yale.She had different hair now, different clothes, and soon would have different friends. Blair couldn't let herself become a crying mess, but she never would because not once since she found out, had she shed a tear. She couldn't cry for him, she couldn't disgrace him with her tears. If she cried wouldn't be crying for him, she'd be crying for herself. She wouldn't betray him like that.
There was two hours left until she left for Yale. And she got rid of any visible reminder that he was in her life. He'd always be in her memory but without seeing anything that reminded her of him, she could at least tell herself she wasn't thinking about him. Then she looked down at her wrist and groaned. It was the scarf. Serena had given it to her before the funeral, she said that he told her to when he was in the hospital. That his exact word were "Give the bitch my scarf." She tried arguing and saying he didn't mean her, but they both knew it was for her. She stared at it and shook her head. The bastard was dead now and still messing with her head. He might of been wrong about when he died, but he was right about one thing,Blair's blank expression that had seemed to become permanent over time had changed to a smile. She'd never get rid of him, maybe she wasn't supposed to. She took a pair of scissors and cut the end of his precious custom-made scarf and threw it out the window. He would freak if anyone did anything to his scarf. Maybe he was supposed to be apart of her, but that didn't mean she couldn't still have a little fun with him. In her eyes, this was a very fitting tribute.
-I actually don't hate it , so feedback is appreciated.
Title: Conversations with the Wind
Characters/Pairings: Blair; Blair/Chuck. Brief mentionings of various characters and very vague Blair/Dan. Blair/Nate.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,030.
Spoilers: very vague spoilers for 1x18"Much 'I Do' About Nothing"
Summary: Sometimes she regretted letting him go, sometimes she wished things were different. But Blair knew she couldn't have been happy with him. But she wasn't happy without him either. .
Disclaimer: Character death. GG belongs to Cecily von Ziegesar, Josh Schwartz, and the CW. Not mine.
Her hair was shorter now, cut in the fashion of her idol. She felt lighter, like things were different but they weren't. It was only one month since graduation and five days since the funeral. She was still wearing black, she was walking around like a widow. It was fitting. Serena called them the married couple, even after the fact. And now, she was completely alone, Nate was long gone and Serena left for California three hours ago. She considered calling Dan but shook her head at the ridiculousness of the thought, they hadn't talked since that horrible night six months ago. When they both walked in the wrong place at the wrong time at separate instances and then walked into each other on the street, leading to something she never wanted to mention, remember, or forget . So she was alone, and ready to start over. She got her hair done after Serena left. It was something Lily van der Woodsen said to her when Blair was just 12 after he pushed her in the mud and everyone laughed at her and said she deserved it "when you feel like your life has ended, begin a different one." And that's exactly what she had convinced herself she was doing. She got her hair cut, a mani & pedi done in a peach color called 'rebirth'. And that's what she wanted to do. She had four days before leaving for Yale. and she wasn't going to Yale acting this, like someone who had lost everything, even if she had.
Her memories were vivd. She felt like she still sitting in the chateau in Tuscany laying on the silk sheets scowling as he walked in. She remember his exact excuse, down to the syllable, about why he was exactly two days and three hours late. She recalled trying to argue with him but ending up in bed with him instead. She remembered how he kissed her and how different it was from Nate, Dan and all the others who came before him. He kissed her like he really knew her, there was a straight forward effortlessness to it, how he didn't try to be gentle or caring. He kissed her like he needed her and he did. He was different then anyone she'd ever kissed, anyone she'd ever loved. And she knew no one would who came after could compare, not that anyone had come after yet.
Blair hated funerals. She hated the feeling in her heart. Like it had been completely shattered, like the glass of red wine he smashed on her floor when she told him it was over, for good. She remembered going up to him the next day absolutely furious and regretful "You stained my fucking carpet , Bass." He looked at her, grinned and told her that she'd never get rid of him, even when he got died fifty years from then . It took Dorota weeks to get the stain out. It was almost half a year since that happened and never did she thinking she'd have to listen to Bart Bass give a eulogy on his beloved son. Sometimes she regretted letting him go, sometimes she wished things were different. But Blair knew she couldn't have been happy with him. But she wasn't happy without him either.
Even when they weren't together, she always found comfort in knowing he was around, somewhere. Even after she told him she couldn't do this, them, anymore, she still looked forward to his spontaneous appearances in her life. She would've never admitted this to anyone, especially him but she loved when he found some reason to talk to her, even though it was usually to insult her. But she also knew, that he already had her all figured out.
Blair hated packing and she usually had Dorota do it for her. But she needed to occupy herself in some way. She took every black item of clothing she owned ,excluding her favorite little black dress and shoved it in a bag to get sent to charity or something. She took everything out of the shopping bags that had been accumulating on her floor since she'd found out and packed it all away in a suitcase, adding in a few of her favorite items from her closet. She wasn't taking the old Blair with her to Yale.She had different hair now, different clothes, and soon would have different friends. Blair couldn't let herself become a crying mess, but she never would because not once since she found out, had she shed a tear. She couldn't cry for him, she couldn't disgrace him with her tears. If she cried wouldn't be crying for him, she'd be crying for herself. She wouldn't betray him like that.
There was two hours left until she left for Yale. And she got rid of any visible reminder that he was in her life. He'd always be in her memory but without seeing anything that reminded her of him, she could at least tell herself she wasn't thinking about him. Then she looked down at her wrist and groaned. It was the scarf. Serena had given it to her before the funeral, she said that he told her to when he was in the hospital. That his exact word were "Give the bitch my scarf." She tried arguing and saying he didn't mean her, but they both knew it was for her. She stared at it and shook her head. The bastard was dead now and still messing with her head. He might of been wrong about when he died, but he was right about one thing,Blair's blank expression that had seemed to become permanent over time had changed to a smile. She'd never get rid of him, maybe she wasn't supposed to. She took a pair of scissors and cut the end of his precious custom-made scarf and threw it out the window. He would freak if anyone did anything to his scarf. Maybe he was supposed to be apart of her, but that didn't mean she couldn't still have a little fun with him. In her eyes, this was a very fitting tribute.