Title: Pretty Handsome Awkward

Characters/Pairings: Dan/Blair

Rating: PG13

Warnings/Spoilers: Title came from song by the Used.

Summary: She's just a broken doll hiding behind a cold mask, and he sees through it all.


He's pretty handsome awkward.

She knows that him as a writer would cringe at the overuse of adjectives.

But she doesn't care and won't care if he cares.

He's pretty because of the way he holds her as if she might break.

Even though she's already broken (so long ago).

She's just a broken doll hiding behind a cold mask, and he sees through it all.

"You can cry, we all do it, I try at least three times a day," he said, struggling to make her laugh.

Wiping at her tear-stained face, she lets out a forced chuckle.

He's always trying to make her laugh, and she knows it's because he doesn't know what else to do.

"I can't cry, that's the whole point. A Waldorf never cries," she explains, voice thick.

The only thing he really can do is hold her closer (and she needs that).

He's handsome because…well have you seen him in a suit?

He's even more handsome when said suit is crumpled on the ground in hurried piles.

Her back hits the wall, a gasp escaping her lips.

"You should be gentler," she murmurs, last word turning into a long moan.

It's almost like an inside joke, because she doesn't like anything gentle.

He grins, lips finding hers in hard presses (she laughs against him).

Her hands grasp the black suit tightly, as she makes tiny (whimpering) noises.

She doesn't like it when he wears so many clothes, she'd rather he walked around naked all the time.

Hands touch every available piece of flesh, wanting for more.

Cotton sheets are rough against her back (she's used to hand spun silk).

Her eyes flutter shut, an intent feeling curling in the pit of her stomach.

"You look gorgeous, I'm sorry to say the world's going to be missing out on a beautiful sunset," he whispers in her ear.

It's a writer's compliment, almost making no sense because he's so wrapped up in emotions she could never explain.

He's awkward because he is Daniel Humphrey.

His family's meant to be awkward by society.

She walks past him, fingers brushing against his wrist.

Turning to look from the corner of her eye, she smiles.

His gaze follows her as she rests against the wall (she's always hated this designer's dresses. They're so heavy).

She has to wonder how he even got invited to this party; he has absolutely no ties to any of high society anymore.

But she doesn't mind, especially when he's wearing a suit.

"Looking at lonely boy, how…pitiful," murmurs a voice in her ear, hand traveling further down her back.

Shuddering, she can't tell if it's from revulsion or the other emotion she always had for him (no matter what).

Lonely boy's eyes meet hers and she offers a small (secret) smile.

"Oh, Mister Bass, how delightful to see you here. Hopefully you'll actually say goodbye instead of writing it?" she snaps, still so angry.

He didn't deserve her (never again).

Ducking out of his grasp, she tries to stop the anger from escaping (it's difficult).

The curious cat watches her, through narrowed eyes.

She wants to hurt him (just like he hurt her).

Lonely boy beings to walk closer and she doesn't stop him.

Shouldn't the truth come out when she needs him most?

Looking away from darkened eyes, she puts a hand on a former lover's chest.

"I have to go," she whispers (so suddenly alone).

He grasps her wrist, and pulls her closer then ever before.

She wants to kiss him, until he needs her.

The she'll run away (forever).

Why does love hurt as much as hate?

Slumping against the dirty brick wall, she doesn't care.

Why bother with fancy dresses and false compliments (she couldn't take it)?

"I'm here, aren't I always?" he whispers, stepping closer.

She wants him closer…closer then possible.

Her arms wrap around him, breathing in him.

She nods against his chest, as his hands wound in her hair.

He's pretty handsome awkward.

He's hers.


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