The moment is brief and Blair is sure it will never happen again.

It happens on the day she is least prepared for it; a flurry of tests awaits her in her afternoon classes and she's worried about not studying hard enough. Serena tries to reassure her with her bright demeanor, shooting sunbeams with her smiles and lighting up the crowded Constance hallway with her yellow hair and Amazonian height. Dan trails behind her, the ever-faithful puppy, tail wagging. It does nothing to improve Blair's mood.

She is reviewing the order of the French kings in her mind when Chuck passes by. He doesn't look at her once, his face a stoic mask of apathy. Despair clutches at Blair like dark, black waves in a typhoon lapping at her and dragging her into an ocean of agony. It breaks through Serena's sunny aura that has enveloped them all and threatens to swallow Blair whole; she is not prepared for this. She is not strong enough to bear it. She struggles to reach the surface again, digging with wild claws towards the light again, but misery makes her weak.

A helping hand reaches out and brushes hers; Humphrey's skin is rough and calloused, warm from the gloves he had only removed a few minutes ago. Blair's first instinct is to tug away but she is frozen, slowly being pulled towards light and happiness again by an unimaginable source; a life jacket, if you will. She breaks the surface and gasps for air. It stings. Dan's fingers clasp around hers and then let go, so quickly she's not even sure it happened.

She is never quite sure how Dan Humphrey read the terrible agony on her face, and she never mentions it to Serena, but Blair reflects and realizes for one instant that perhaps she isn't as isolated as she believes.