CHUCK + BLAIR = LOVE

This is a story following Chuck and Blair from that annoying cliffie at the end of the last episode. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW !!!! Will continue the story if there are a certain minimum of reviews!!!

Disclaimer: the CW owns Gossip Girl. I, however, own my own imaginary friends Puff the Magic Dragon and Kiki the GodFairyPsychologist...my disclaimers will get more random if I don't get reviews!!!

She'd said it.

Her words echoed hollowly in her ears…I love you, I love you, I love you…

Blair Waldorf did not love anybody, let alone fall in love with anyone. She was too special, too delicate, too fragile, to just give her heart away to anybody. And she'd chosen to give it away to the one man who probably wouldn't think twice about breaking a thousand female hearts.

And yet, she couldn't find the will to regret what she had done. She loved him, it was true, more than she'd ever loved anything; more than she loved her idealistic dreams, more than she loved Audrey Hepburn movies and Gucci dresses…and it was possible that she loved Chuck Bass more than her family.

Blair desperately tried to rationalize his actions; he was hurting, he was in shock, he was grieving, he was feeling guilty, he didn't want her to see him like this…but her mind drew a blank each time she tried to convince herself that maybe, just maybe, he loved her too.

"Miss Blair?" Dorota stood outside her bedroom door, hovering with a tray of comfort food. Blair wiped away her tears and called, "Come in!" like the lady she was supposed to be.

Dorota came in, swiftly setting down the tray. She sat down on the edge of her bed and wordlessly smoothed her hair. "Oh, Miss Blair," she sighed, patting her hand. "The heart is fragile at your age."

"Oh, my heart isn't fragile, Dorota," she muttered. "My heart is jaded and cynical, but it's not mine anymore. It's his."

Dorota smiled sadly, and said, "Mister Charles will see to it that your heart will be well taken care of."

"I told him that I loved him, Dorota," she murmured softly, carefully not looking at Dorota. "And I held him while he needed me, I told him I'd stay by his side, I said I love you! And all he did was tell me not to go looking for him."

"He loves you, very much, Miss Blair." Dorota was still smiling a little, as if this was some unbearably sweet love scene from a movie. Blair narrowed her eyes.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked, almost snarling the words. She did not have to hide her temper from Dorota.

"Because, Miss Blair!" Dorota clapped her hands together and smiled widely. "Miss Blair, don't you see? After Mister Charles comes to his senses, I will have a very big wedding to plan in a few years!"

Blair settled back against her pillows restlessly. She wanted so desperately to believe Cyrus's words, wanted to believe Dorota's words, but she didn't dare. She'd put herself in a vulnerable position-and look what had happened. Nothing good came out of her vulnerability, and Blair was determined for it never to happen again.

Yes, she loved Chuck. Yes, her heart was his. Yes, there was a very big possibility that she'd never get it back.

But there was no way she'd sacrifice her pride again after he'd so coldly rejected her.

Chuck Bass stared out over the empty room, tired, alone, and weary. He was no longer drunk; alcohol was no longer the comfort it used to be.

His mother was dead. His father was dead.

And he was somehow, inextricably, responsible for both their deaths. The guilt was overwhelming, the feeling of loss was unbearable, and the last conversation he'd had with his father hovered in front of his eyes like a ghost. He couldn't sleep. Hadn't slept…since…since…

No, that wasn't true. He could sleep. He just couldn't fall asleep without her. Not without Blair's small arms around him, or hearing her say those words, the words he'd wanted to hear for too long now. He had not been—never had been, never would be—above using manipulative methods for her to say it, but now she'd said it at the worst of times.

He didn't want her to see him like this. She probably knew that, but she probably also thought that he didn't care about her as much as she did him. He didn't want Blair to see him alone and sad, didn't want Blair to see him as anything but strong and stubborn.

The scent of her perfume hung around his clothes, making each minute he stood here, away from the haven that she represented, harder and harder. But he couldn't go back, not now, not when he didn't have everything sorted out. He needed to find penance for his parents' deaths.

He needed to find penance for hurting her, too.

"Mr. Bass." The deep voice of the bartender dragged him from his reverie.

Annoyed, he snapped, "What?"

"Somebody's here to see you."

He was even more irked by this. He'd told them expressly he didn't want any guests—none. Nobody was to see Chuck Bass like this, least of all Blair Waldorf.

"I'm not seeing—"

"She said you'd want to see her, and she said that if we didn't—"

Chuck expelled a sigh. Of course she'd found out where he was—had he really thought that he could hide from Blair? Had he really thought that she'd listen to him, for once, and keep herself sane?

"Chuck!" her voice was strained, angry, but he could hear the anxiousness underneath the shrill tone.

"Waldorf," he answered her quietly. She rushed forward towards him, decked out in something festively red that made her eyes sparkle. He wished that he could be the man that deserved her, but he wasn't. He was too self-absorbed, he was too damaged, and he wasn't perfect enough for her.

And, damn it, if he wasn't good enough for her, then nobody was.

"Chuck, where the hell have you been?" Her hair shook as she spoke, and he caught her intoxicating perfume; instantly, he wanted her to stay.

"Here," he muttered. He didn't want to look her in the eye, because then he'd make her stay. It was too easy; she loved him too much. Yes, his heart had soared, hearing her say those words. Yes, he'd wanted desperately to take her with him in that car, but he couldn't; he wouldn't willingly drag Blair into the mess that was currently his life. He couldn't hurt her that way, and he'd thought it'd be safer if he left her alone. That she'd be safer.

Yet, she kept seeking him out. If she kept doing this, he wasn't going to be able to push her away for long.

"Chuck," she slid into the seat next to him, taking one his hands in both of her smaller ones. "Please, come back with me." She was pleading with him. She didn't plead with anybody. "Chuck, listen to me. My mother just hitched herself off to Cyrus, Serena's going away with Aaron, and I don't even know where Nate is. Everything's falling apart, Chuck, you have to come back…"

She was alone. The realization struck him very hard; if there was one thing he'd give anything up for, it was Blair's happiness.

"Chuck?" her voice was very, very soft, as if she did not want to say her next words.