Fic: Give Her a Mask (And She Will Tell You the Truth)
Give Her a Mask (And She Will Tell You the Truth)
Serena/Blair - AU Gossip Girl
2 of 3
Part One |
They don't talk, really talk, until Serena turns the lights off. It's past three in the morning and Serena and Blair lay in the mess of Serena's sheets before Blair is honest. She takes comfort in the darkness, in the anonymity of it. When Blair is free of the scrutiny of Serena's stare, she feels like she can finally breathe. She doesn't know what to make of Serena and being at all out of control makes Blair horribly uncomfortable.
Blair knows what to expect from the people she deals with. The boyfriends and the exes. The dancers and the bosses. The parents that ask so much. The clients that leer and grab. Everyone who just takes, Blair can handle. But Serena, who is so willing to give, is a force to be reckoned with. She is a storm that has come out of nowhere and will not be stopped. It is so new that Blair is beside herself.
When Serena had asked Blair to come home with her, Blair wasn't sure to think. She'd had her suspicions, had thought that maybe she knew what Serena wanted. People tended to want just the one thing from Blair and she tended to give. Hers was just a body. There are worse things. So she went home with Serena, didn't even ask her name. It was better when Blair didn't know, if it didn't matter.
But Serena didn't try anything. She kept her hands to herself, balled into fists or wedged under the backs of her knees. Serena only talked and prompted Blair to talk back. Blair didn't like to talk about herself, as a rule, but Serena pulled answers out of her like she was born to do it. She listened like it was all she knew how to hear. Blair had never encountered that sort of focus. It was unsettling and it unnerved her like nothing else. It also thrilled her like little could.
That thrill, that focus, came first when Blair was on stage. Then, like now, blue eyes had cut through the minute darkness and found Blair where she was hiding. When Blair performed, she was invisible. People saw lights and glow, they saw allure and reprieve. She was distraction wrapped in red. People saw her body, but they did not see Blair. No one did. No one until Serena.
Serena came the same time, week after week. Blair had asked. Penelope always danced before Blair and Jenny after. Serena always showed up when Penelope finished, left before Jenny began. She checked with Kati and Isabel who waited the tables all week. Serena only showed up the nights that Blair worked. This knowledge both flattered and frightened Blair.
Serena had a booth at the back of the club that she took every Sunday night. Blair could see her from the stage and had to try not to look. The sort of undivided attention that Serena paid made it hard for Blair to concentrate. Stares were not new to Blair. They came from hungry eyes with straying hands. Blair was used to it.
The way Serena looked at her was different. From the back of the room, even later, when Blair and Serena were only inches apart, Serena looked at her in a way Blair could not understand. She expected to see lust in Serena when she looked at Blair. But Blair saw a different kind of want. Serena's gaze was not lecherous. It was reverent.
Serena's eyes never swept hungry and wanting over Blair's body like she had come to expect. They trained on Blair's face and never left. Even when Blair had climbed into Serena's lap and begun to dance. It made sense that Serena was only there on Sundays. Serena looked at Blair like she was worshiping, like Blair's body was her temple.
After a while, it became like an addiction. First Blair had begun to look forward to finding Serena slipping in through the door. Blair would watch from backstage for that halo of blonde hair. Then Blair began to need it. It got so she didn't think she could make it through the week without another glimpse of blue eyes. She felt irrational loss at the sight of a retreating back. To be away from that stare like worship was torture. To endure others was blasphemy.
Without Serena to look at her, Blair had to look at herself. She was blinded by her shortcomings and failures. She was haunted by the almosts and the what-may-have-beens. She was beaten senseless by the what-will-never-bes. Serena made Blair feel like the most wonderful version of herself. And herself without Serena disgusted Blair so much she could hardly stand being in her own skin.
Blair would not tolerate that sort of dependency. She would indebt herself to no one. She could not abide such a naked need for someone she had never even met. She had tried to fight it. She had thought maybe if Serena had her fill, she would leave and take with her Blair's too much and never enough. When she saw Serena waiting for a dance, Blair had obliged. She would whet Serena's appetite and satisfy her own thirst. She would even take Serena's money for her trouble.
But it had not been that easy. She had pressed herself close to Serena and felt inexplicably like she fit. Serena had turned those dedicated eyes on her and made Blair react. She could not work under that pressure and she had burned from the effort. Being that close to Serena made Blair want things she could not afford to indulge in. She found providence in Serena's presence and couldn't summon the will to leave it. Then Serena had asked for Blair's name. She had wanted the last piece of Blair she had left to give. Without her facade to wear, Blair was nothing but a girl. Without her mask, there was only lonely truth. Serena had asked Blair to strip away the very last layers of herself. She had begged.
What choice did Blair have? She could do as she had always done. She could run way from what she did not know, from that which she feared. She could put distance between herself and Serena and cut out every part of her life that Serena had touched. She could cut it out like a cancer that would surely spread to every inch of her until she was nothing but her affliction, nothing but her need. But Serena was already inside her. She had filled every hole, had sunk into Blair's bones.
Blair could not verbally render the relief she felt when she saw Serena walking toward her on that train. She had no words for the ache that gripped her when she considered that Serena could just be looking for release, for a warm body to help her through the night. She could not suppress that first thrill of pleasethankyouyes when she realized that Serena wanted more, wanted everything. It meant that Blair had something to offer. It meant that Blair was worth having.
So now, in Serena's bed, in Serena's arms, Blair feels like she is whole. She has to keep her back to Serena so that she can think clearly. Even in the black of night Serena's eyes cut through to those impossible secret parts of Blair. Blair contents herself to toying with Serena's tapered fingers. She rises and falls in tandem to the rhythm of Serena's breathing. In out. Up down. When Serena speaks, she is pressed to the crook of Blair's neck. She traces nonsense over Blair's ribs and whispers perfect nothings into her hair. Serena has words that make Blair's heart break.
She says so many right things that Blair could just die.
Serena talks like Blair is something amazing. She speaks with such conviction that Blair can almost believe her. But Serena has only been close to Blair for these last few hours. Blair has been stuck with herself for long and endless years. There is a small, infantile part of Blair that wants to take Serena at her words. The rest of Blair knows better.
“You are so incredible,” Serena says. There is awe in her voice.
That little, hopeful part of Blair revels in the complement, but that big and offensive part of her bites back. Blair screws her eyes shut at the sting. “You can't know that.”
“Yes,” Serena states with certainty. “I can.” Serena twists her head until her lips find Blair's ear. When she talks, her mouth moves against Blair's skin, so close that Blair feels each syllable almost before it begins. Serena speaks with caution like she might scare Blair away. "I know you, Blair. I want this. You are the most important thing. I know it's too soon to talk about forever, but that's what it feels like. "
Blair does not think it's too soon. She thinks Serena is right. She knows it in the deepest part of her. Serena's words are as true as if she had pulled Blair open and seen them there. Blair feels this bracing truth and it comes over her so suddenly that she gasps at the power of it. She feels Serena start behind her. She is aware of Serena's shift as she leans over Blair to look her in the face. Blair cannot open her eyes. She knows if she does it will not be Serena looking back at her. It will be absolution. It will be the undeniable reality that she is no longer her own person. She belongs to Serena now.
“B? What's wrong?” The endearment satisfies Blair more than her dignity will allow her to admit.
“Nothing,” Blair answers. Absolutely nothing. She opens her eyes to find that Serena has a ridiculous grin on her face. Blair thinks that finally, for the first time in her life, everything is right.
--
part three
Serena/Blair - AU Gossip Girl
2 of 3
Part One |
They don't talk, really talk, until Serena turns the lights off. It's past three in the morning and Serena and Blair lay in the mess of Serena's sheets before Blair is honest. She takes comfort in the darkness, in the anonymity of it. When Blair is free of the scrutiny of Serena's stare, she feels like she can finally breathe. She doesn't know what to make of Serena and being at all out of control makes Blair horribly uncomfortable.
Blair knows what to expect from the people she deals with. The boyfriends and the exes. The dancers and the bosses. The parents that ask so much. The clients that leer and grab. Everyone who just takes, Blair can handle. But Serena, who is so willing to give, is a force to be reckoned with. She is a storm that has come out of nowhere and will not be stopped. It is so new that Blair is beside herself.
When Serena had asked Blair to come home with her, Blair wasn't sure to think. She'd had her suspicions, had thought that maybe she knew what Serena wanted. People tended to want just the one thing from Blair and she tended to give. Hers was just a body. There are worse things. So she went home with Serena, didn't even ask her name. It was better when Blair didn't know, if it didn't matter.
But Serena didn't try anything. She kept her hands to herself, balled into fists or wedged under the backs of her knees. Serena only talked and prompted Blair to talk back. Blair didn't like to talk about herself, as a rule, but Serena pulled answers out of her like she was born to do it. She listened like it was all she knew how to hear. Blair had never encountered that sort of focus. It was unsettling and it unnerved her like nothing else. It also thrilled her like little could.
That thrill, that focus, came first when Blair was on stage. Then, like now, blue eyes had cut through the minute darkness and found Blair where she was hiding. When Blair performed, she was invisible. People saw lights and glow, they saw allure and reprieve. She was distraction wrapped in red. People saw her body, but they did not see Blair. No one did. No one until Serena.
Serena came the same time, week after week. Blair had asked. Penelope always danced before Blair and Jenny after. Serena always showed up when Penelope finished, left before Jenny began. She checked with Kati and Isabel who waited the tables all week. Serena only showed up the nights that Blair worked. This knowledge both flattered and frightened Blair.
Serena had a booth at the back of the club that she took every Sunday night. Blair could see her from the stage and had to try not to look. The sort of undivided attention that Serena paid made it hard for Blair to concentrate. Stares were not new to Blair. They came from hungry eyes with straying hands. Blair was used to it.
The way Serena looked at her was different. From the back of the room, even later, when Blair and Serena were only inches apart, Serena looked at her in a way Blair could not understand. She expected to see lust in Serena when she looked at Blair. But Blair saw a different kind of want. Serena's gaze was not lecherous. It was reverent.
Serena's eyes never swept hungry and wanting over Blair's body like she had come to expect. They trained on Blair's face and never left. Even when Blair had climbed into Serena's lap and begun to dance. It made sense that Serena was only there on Sundays. Serena looked at Blair like she was worshiping, like Blair's body was her temple.
After a while, it became like an addiction. First Blair had begun to look forward to finding Serena slipping in through the door. Blair would watch from backstage for that halo of blonde hair. Then Blair began to need it. It got so she didn't think she could make it through the week without another glimpse of blue eyes. She felt irrational loss at the sight of a retreating back. To be away from that stare like worship was torture. To endure others was blasphemy.
Without Serena to look at her, Blair had to look at herself. She was blinded by her shortcomings and failures. She was haunted by the almosts and the what-may-have-beens. She was beaten senseless by the what-will-never-bes. Serena made Blair feel like the most wonderful version of herself. And herself without Serena disgusted Blair so much she could hardly stand being in her own skin.
Blair would not tolerate that sort of dependency. She would indebt herself to no one. She could not abide such a naked need for someone she had never even met. She had tried to fight it. She had thought maybe if Serena had her fill, she would leave and take with her Blair's too much and never enough. When she saw Serena waiting for a dance, Blair had obliged. She would whet Serena's appetite and satisfy her own thirst. She would even take Serena's money for her trouble.
But it had not been that easy. She had pressed herself close to Serena and felt inexplicably like she fit. Serena had turned those dedicated eyes on her and made Blair react. She could not work under that pressure and she had burned from the effort. Being that close to Serena made Blair want things she could not afford to indulge in. She found providence in Serena's presence and couldn't summon the will to leave it. Then Serena had asked for Blair's name. She had wanted the last piece of Blair she had left to give. Without her facade to wear, Blair was nothing but a girl. Without her mask, there was only lonely truth. Serena had asked Blair to strip away the very last layers of herself. She had begged.
What choice did Blair have? She could do as she had always done. She could run way from what she did not know, from that which she feared. She could put distance between herself and Serena and cut out every part of her life that Serena had touched. She could cut it out like a cancer that would surely spread to every inch of her until she was nothing but her affliction, nothing but her need. But Serena was already inside her. She had filled every hole, had sunk into Blair's bones.
Blair could not verbally render the relief she felt when she saw Serena walking toward her on that train. She had no words for the ache that gripped her when she considered that Serena could just be looking for release, for a warm body to help her through the night. She could not suppress that first thrill of pleasethankyouyes when she realized that Serena wanted more, wanted everything. It meant that Blair had something to offer. It meant that Blair was worth having.
So now, in Serena's bed, in Serena's arms, Blair feels like she is whole. She has to keep her back to Serena so that she can think clearly. Even in the black of night Serena's eyes cut through to those impossible secret parts of Blair. Blair contents herself to toying with Serena's tapered fingers. She rises and falls in tandem to the rhythm of Serena's breathing. In out. Up down. When Serena speaks, she is pressed to the crook of Blair's neck. She traces nonsense over Blair's ribs and whispers perfect nothings into her hair. Serena has words that make Blair's heart break.
She says so many right things that Blair could just die.
Serena talks like Blair is something amazing. She speaks with such conviction that Blair can almost believe her. But Serena has only been close to Blair for these last few hours. Blair has been stuck with herself for long and endless years. There is a small, infantile part of Blair that wants to take Serena at her words. The rest of Blair knows better.
“You are so incredible,” Serena says. There is awe in her voice.
That little, hopeful part of Blair revels in the complement, but that big and offensive part of her bites back. Blair screws her eyes shut at the sting. “You can't know that.”
“Yes,” Serena states with certainty. “I can.” Serena twists her head until her lips find Blair's ear. When she talks, her mouth moves against Blair's skin, so close that Blair feels each syllable almost before it begins. Serena speaks with caution like she might scare Blair away. "I know you, Blair. I want this. You are the most important thing. I know it's too soon to talk about forever, but that's what it feels like. "
Blair does not think it's too soon. She thinks Serena is right. She knows it in the deepest part of her. Serena's words are as true as if she had pulled Blair open and seen them there. Blair feels this bracing truth and it comes over her so suddenly that she gasps at the power of it. She feels Serena start behind her. She is aware of Serena's shift as she leans over Blair to look her in the face. Blair cannot open her eyes. She knows if she does it will not be Serena looking back at her. It will be absolution. It will be the undeniable reality that she is no longer her own person. She belongs to Serena now.
“B? What's wrong?” The endearment satisfies Blair more than her dignity will allow her to admit.
“Nothing,” Blair answers. Absolutely nothing. She opens her eyes to find that Serena has a ridiculous grin on her face. Blair thinks that finally, for the first time in her life, everything is right.
--
part three