The Fire Below
Title: The Fire Below
Characters: Blair & Nate
Rating/Word Count: PG-13 for some swears/497
One-Line Excerpt: But the truth of the matter is that Blair Waldorf is sick of being so damn nice and agreeable.
Some men are prone to fall asleep after sex. Nate Archibald, however, is the type of man who falls asleep before there is any sex to be had.
Right now, he’s asleep on her bed, laying directly behind her--and she knows the second he loses consciousness because she can hear his breathing even out so peacefully...
After the party, he said they needed to talk. But this alleged “talk” turned out to be just him speaking to her and no actual conversing. So like a petulant, broken child with her back to her disciplinarian, Blair remained quiet as Nate presented her with an ultimatum.
What he was saying--the actual words that came out of his mouth--have the power to effectively end everything they’ve worked for these past few years in an instant.
The kicker is that Nate doesn’t beg for forgiveness or tell her he loves her. He doesn’t offer to kiss her feet in exchange for sleeping with her best friend. He doesn’t swear he won’t do it again or even admit what he did was wrong.
Instead, he puts a hand on her shoulder (which is practically second base for them) and she instinctively reaches back and squeezes.
This is how their relationship has always worked--Nate gives a little and Blair reacts without thinking it through. She latches on to any ounce of affection or attention he gives her because she wants him for keeps.
She wants Nate to fight for her. To make a fucking effort. To not sleep with her best friend when all she gets is a hand on her shoulder.
She doesn’t want to lie awake contemplating her options--the fate of their relationship weighing heavy in her small hands--while her boyfriend snores behind her without a care in the world.
That doesn’t seem like too much to ask for.
She can’t comprehend his ability to sleep, because right now her world is up in flames--literally. There’s an inferno lit through out her whole body made up of rage and hatred and embarrassment and sexual frustration that’s all bundled up nicely in a virginal, floral straight-jacket.
But the truth of the matter is that Blair Waldorf is sick of being so damn nice and agreeable.
Quite frankly, she’s tired of it--because the hotter the fire burns inside of her, the colder her skin feels to the touch and she doesn’t know what that means. Blair is so tired of not knowing what that means. At any moment, she feels like she might combust or implode or liquidate from the inside out because the emotions she’s experiencing are running so high.
And it hurts so much, it fucking burns.
But on the outside, her eyes remain cold. Like a metal chastity belt, like armor.
Nate may have given her a choice, but they already know what her answer will be.
It’s the same reason Blair can’t sleep, while Nate gently slumbers.
Nothing has changed.
Characters: Blair & Nate
Rating/Word Count: PG-13 for some swears/497
One-Line Excerpt: But the truth of the matter is that Blair Waldorf is sick of being so damn nice and agreeable.
Some men are prone to fall asleep after sex. Nate Archibald, however, is the type of man who falls asleep before there is any sex to be had.
Right now, he’s asleep on her bed, laying directly behind her--and she knows the second he loses consciousness because she can hear his breathing even out so peacefully...
After the party, he said they needed to talk. But this alleged “talk” turned out to be just him speaking to her and no actual conversing. So like a petulant, broken child with her back to her disciplinarian, Blair remained quiet as Nate presented her with an ultimatum.
What he was saying--the actual words that came out of his mouth--have the power to effectively end everything they’ve worked for these past few years in an instant.
The kicker is that Nate doesn’t beg for forgiveness or tell her he loves her. He doesn’t offer to kiss her feet in exchange for sleeping with her best friend. He doesn’t swear he won’t do it again or even admit what he did was wrong.
Instead, he puts a hand on her shoulder (which is practically second base for them) and she instinctively reaches back and squeezes.
This is how their relationship has always worked--Nate gives a little and Blair reacts without thinking it through. She latches on to any ounce of affection or attention he gives her because she wants him for keeps.
She wants Nate to fight for her. To make a fucking effort. To not sleep with her best friend when all she gets is a hand on her shoulder.
She doesn’t want to lie awake contemplating her options--the fate of their relationship weighing heavy in her small hands--while her boyfriend snores behind her without a care in the world.
That doesn’t seem like too much to ask for.
She can’t comprehend his ability to sleep, because right now her world is up in flames--literally. There’s an inferno lit through out her whole body made up of rage and hatred and embarrassment and sexual frustration that’s all bundled up nicely in a virginal, floral straight-jacket.
But the truth of the matter is that Blair Waldorf is sick of being so damn nice and agreeable.
Quite frankly, she’s tired of it--because the hotter the fire burns inside of her, the colder her skin feels to the touch and she doesn’t know what that means. Blair is so tired of not knowing what that means. At any moment, she feels like she might combust or implode or liquidate from the inside out because the emotions she’s experiencing are running so high.
And it hurts so much, it fucking burns.
But on the outside, her eyes remain cold. Like a metal chastity belt, like armor.
Nate may have given her a choice, but they already know what her answer will be.
It’s the same reason Blair can’t sleep, while Nate gently slumbers.
Nothing has changed.