Will Not Remember, Cannot Forget
folder
G through L › Gossip Girl
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
37
Views:
5,905
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
G through L › Gossip Girl
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
37
Views:
5,905
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gossip Girl, and I do not make any money from these writings.
Chapter 3
It’s been 27 days.
27 days since he’s seen her.
Not that he’s counting…
27 days in which she’s haunted his thoughts and plagued his dreams.
27 days in which he hasn’t slept, has felt sick, like there’s something in his stomach…
But she’s here now. In his suite. And where is he? Out on the fricking balcony. Like a coward.
He thinks of her face, and his pulse races. He’s not ready.
Breathe, Bass, breathe.
He can do this.
She’s just a girl, after all, and he’s a Bass. And he’s got it all mapped out. He’s thought of what he wants to say. All the things he needs to say. He’s rehearsed it, and tonight’s his chance.
So he’s going to do it. Right now... Right this moment... Any moment now...
Fuck!
He angrily rakes his hand through his hair. Maybe after one more cigarette.
He pulls the crumpled pack out of his suit pocket. He’s going to need Arthur to buy Serena some more smokes because he’ll be damned if the pack isn’t nearly empty. As the small pile of butts in the ashtray can attest, he’s been out here a while. But he can’t go inside. Not yet. But soon he will. Soon he won’t have the cigarettes anymore as an excuse.
He puts one of the slim cylinders between his lips. Serena says they take the edge off. But as his hand tremors slightly as he tries to light the damn thing, he thinks that’s crap. He’s plenty edgy. The only thing the smokes seem to be doing right now is make him queasy.
Or maybe that’s still the feeling he got in his stomach when he opened the door of his suite to welcome in his friends, and saw her there arm in arm with Serena.
Not that he should have been that surprised. They’ve been inseparable. Not that he’s been keeping tabs on her or anything...
He just needed time to prepare. Nothing wrong with that. And so perhaps he knew that she’d been a shadow at Serena’s side, and a thorn in Blair’s.
He always knew Blair was better at reading people.
Still, he’s dumbstruck to see her here tonight. He’d invited over Nate, which automatically meant Blair would come too. Blair, of course, would bring along Serena. One invite, three friends. A simple, reliable system that had worked for years.
But the dynamics had apparently changed. The entourage had grown. Georgina Sparks now accompanied Serena everywhere. Three for one had become four. He hadn’t anticipated that. He hadn’t counted on her just showing up here.
He had made a plan. And this? This was not part of the plan!
She’s forced his hand. He sees that now, understands the advantage that gives her. So it’s now or never time. Speak now or forever hold your peace.
Behind him, the slider opens and he tenses.
Oh, God. He can’t do this. He can’t face her.
But, no. It’s Blair.
“Are you coming?” she says, and he immediately can tell she’s annoyed. “I’m sick of playing hostess at your house.”
“It’s a suite, Blair.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just hurry up, alright!”
He sighs and snubs the cigarette out. “Happy now?”
Blair beams at him and pushes him inside. He’s glad. He probably would have chickened out without her propelling him forward.
“About time Chuck!” Nate says as soon as he spots him.
“You didn’t have to wait,” he replies.
“Oh yes we did. Blair insisted.” Serena chimes in.
“Well, I… Games are more fun with five, instead of four,” Blair says softly as he looks to her. He notices the slight flush coloring her cheeks. But before he can even begin to think what that could possibly mean, someone else is at his side. And there she is in all her glory.
His breath catches in his throat as she extends a flute of champagne towards him with a smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes. Maybe it never had. He eyes the proffered glass warily.
“No thanks. I’m not drinking.”
“We waited for you forever and you’re not even drinking! It’s a drinking game Chuck!” Serena exclaims in exasperation.
“Yeah, Chuck,” Georgina adds. He shivers at the way his name leaves her mouth. “You have to drink something. Those are the rules.” Her voice is sweet, playful, mocking.
“Fine,” he grinds out, “But I’m drinking something else.”
With tense shoulders and her steely eyes burning into his back, he approaches the wet bar. Lots of choices here. Lots of… Damn it! All the bottles have already been opened, and there was no way to tell exactly who had opened them or when.
Then he sees it. The scotch. His father’s scotch. It’s a new bottle. The seal is still unbroken. In this, at least, he is safe.
“Hey, Nathaniel. Try this with me,” he says as he opens the bottle and pours himself a highball.
“Nah, I’m good man.” A lazy smile spreads over his friend’s face. “Georgina already brought me some champagne.”
Something cold claws at his stomach with those words. She wouldn’t, he thinks. But seeing that cruel and predatory twist to Georgina’s lips, he feels that she might, just to fuck with him.
“Come on Nate! Champagne’s for girls! Scotch is for men,” he urges. To prove his point, he takes a gulp of the scotch and nearly gags as it scorches down his throat. Shit! How does his father drink this stuff?
From the couch, Serena giggles at his discomfort. “Some man you are!” she teases.
“Sorry, but I think I’ll pass,” Nate deadpans as he sips the champagne. Chuck can tell he’s trying not to break into a grin.
He turns away, but not before he sees the amused expression on Blair’s face.
Wonderful. They’re laughing at him. He loves that. And Nate’s still drinking that champagne. Fuck! Shit! Piss! He slams his glass down upon the bar and stalks into the next room.
Chill, Bass. Don’t panic. That is what she wants. You’re playing right into her hands. The plan. Remember the plan!
He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself, and that’s how he knows she’s close. Her smell, that sickly sweet vanilla scent announces her proximity a second before her body presses against his back.
“Relax Chucky,” Georgina whispers. It takes all he has not to run, not to flee in blind panic. Her breath is hot against the side of his face. “I’ve already met my virgin quota. Thanks.”
She laughs then. A low, dark, throaty sound. And it is this that finally breaks his reserve.
He bolts. But he doesn’t get far. The room is suddenly too small. He can’t escape. He can’t breathe. He thinks he might faint. Then a hand is on his shoulder and his reaction is just instinctual. He whirls and pushes and it’s only belatedly that he realizes the figure stumbling away from him isn’t Georgina. It’s Blair with her perfect curls and shocked expression and his scotch clutched in her hand. Blair that nearly falls backward from the force of his shove. Blair that is glaring at him like he’s the scum of the earth.
Great. Just great.
“What is your problem, Bass?” Blair snaps, and then the anger drains from her eyes. There’s worry there now. Concern. She’s looking at his face. Sees the cold sweat upon his skin. Hears his ragged gasping breaths.
“Are you okay? You don’t look well.”
And he wants to tell her.
But he can’t. He knows he can’t. He couldn’t bare it. The pity. Her pity. She can’t ever know.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” he stammers, and even to him the lie sounds pathetic. He sees his scotch still held in her hands. He grabs it greedily. The liquid sloshes over the rim. Then he’s gulping it down, concentrating on the feeling of acid in his gut. The pain helps. He takes another swig as she stands there dazed, peering up at him as if he’s lost his mind.
She reaches out hesitantly. Her small hand is upon his arm, and he cringes away. Her touch is too soft, too gentle. Her eyes too probing.
“Chuck? Is everything –”
“Are we going to play this fucking game or not?” he demands, cutting her off. It comes out harsher than he means it to. Now there’s hurt in the depths of her chocolate eyes. He can’t stand seeing it, hates that he put it there, but he can’t deal with it. Not now. Abruptly, he strides back to the other room and leaves her standing there in bewilderment.
Nearby, watching them, Georgina smirks.
27 days since he’s seen her.
Not that he’s counting…
27 days in which she’s haunted his thoughts and plagued his dreams.
27 days in which he hasn’t slept, has felt sick, like there’s something in his stomach…
But she’s here now. In his suite. And where is he? Out on the fricking balcony. Like a coward.
He thinks of her face, and his pulse races. He’s not ready.
Breathe, Bass, breathe.
He can do this.
She’s just a girl, after all, and he’s a Bass. And he’s got it all mapped out. He’s thought of what he wants to say. All the things he needs to say. He’s rehearsed it, and tonight’s his chance.
So he’s going to do it. Right now... Right this moment... Any moment now...
Fuck!
He angrily rakes his hand through his hair. Maybe after one more cigarette.
He pulls the crumpled pack out of his suit pocket. He’s going to need Arthur to buy Serena some more smokes because he’ll be damned if the pack isn’t nearly empty. As the small pile of butts in the ashtray can attest, he’s been out here a while. But he can’t go inside. Not yet. But soon he will. Soon he won’t have the cigarettes anymore as an excuse.
He puts one of the slim cylinders between his lips. Serena says they take the edge off. But as his hand tremors slightly as he tries to light the damn thing, he thinks that’s crap. He’s plenty edgy. The only thing the smokes seem to be doing right now is make him queasy.
Or maybe that’s still the feeling he got in his stomach when he opened the door of his suite to welcome in his friends, and saw her there arm in arm with Serena.
Not that he should have been that surprised. They’ve been inseparable. Not that he’s been keeping tabs on her or anything...
He just needed time to prepare. Nothing wrong with that. And so perhaps he knew that she’d been a shadow at Serena’s side, and a thorn in Blair’s.
He always knew Blair was better at reading people.
Still, he’s dumbstruck to see her here tonight. He’d invited over Nate, which automatically meant Blair would come too. Blair, of course, would bring along Serena. One invite, three friends. A simple, reliable system that had worked for years.
But the dynamics had apparently changed. The entourage had grown. Georgina Sparks now accompanied Serena everywhere. Three for one had become four. He hadn’t anticipated that. He hadn’t counted on her just showing up here.
He had made a plan. And this? This was not part of the plan!
She’s forced his hand. He sees that now, understands the advantage that gives her. So it’s now or never time. Speak now or forever hold your peace.
Behind him, the slider opens and he tenses.
Oh, God. He can’t do this. He can’t face her.
But, no. It’s Blair.
“Are you coming?” she says, and he immediately can tell she’s annoyed. “I’m sick of playing hostess at your house.”
“It’s a suite, Blair.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just hurry up, alright!”
He sighs and snubs the cigarette out. “Happy now?”
Blair beams at him and pushes him inside. He’s glad. He probably would have chickened out without her propelling him forward.
“About time Chuck!” Nate says as soon as he spots him.
“You didn’t have to wait,” he replies.
“Oh yes we did. Blair insisted.” Serena chimes in.
“Well, I… Games are more fun with five, instead of four,” Blair says softly as he looks to her. He notices the slight flush coloring her cheeks. But before he can even begin to think what that could possibly mean, someone else is at his side. And there she is in all her glory.
His breath catches in his throat as she extends a flute of champagne towards him with a smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes. Maybe it never had. He eyes the proffered glass warily.
“No thanks. I’m not drinking.”
“We waited for you forever and you’re not even drinking! It’s a drinking game Chuck!” Serena exclaims in exasperation.
“Yeah, Chuck,” Georgina adds. He shivers at the way his name leaves her mouth. “You have to drink something. Those are the rules.” Her voice is sweet, playful, mocking.
“Fine,” he grinds out, “But I’m drinking something else.”
With tense shoulders and her steely eyes burning into his back, he approaches the wet bar. Lots of choices here. Lots of… Damn it! All the bottles have already been opened, and there was no way to tell exactly who had opened them or when.
Then he sees it. The scotch. His father’s scotch. It’s a new bottle. The seal is still unbroken. In this, at least, he is safe.
“Hey, Nathaniel. Try this with me,” he says as he opens the bottle and pours himself a highball.
“Nah, I’m good man.” A lazy smile spreads over his friend’s face. “Georgina already brought me some champagne.”
Something cold claws at his stomach with those words. She wouldn’t, he thinks. But seeing that cruel and predatory twist to Georgina’s lips, he feels that she might, just to fuck with him.
“Come on Nate! Champagne’s for girls! Scotch is for men,” he urges. To prove his point, he takes a gulp of the scotch and nearly gags as it scorches down his throat. Shit! How does his father drink this stuff?
From the couch, Serena giggles at his discomfort. “Some man you are!” she teases.
“Sorry, but I think I’ll pass,” Nate deadpans as he sips the champagne. Chuck can tell he’s trying not to break into a grin.
He turns away, but not before he sees the amused expression on Blair’s face.
Wonderful. They’re laughing at him. He loves that. And Nate’s still drinking that champagne. Fuck! Shit! Piss! He slams his glass down upon the bar and stalks into the next room.
Chill, Bass. Don’t panic. That is what she wants. You’re playing right into her hands. The plan. Remember the plan!
He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself, and that’s how he knows she’s close. Her smell, that sickly sweet vanilla scent announces her proximity a second before her body presses against his back.
“Relax Chucky,” Georgina whispers. It takes all he has not to run, not to flee in blind panic. Her breath is hot against the side of his face. “I’ve already met my virgin quota. Thanks.”
She laughs then. A low, dark, throaty sound. And it is this that finally breaks his reserve.
He bolts. But he doesn’t get far. The room is suddenly too small. He can’t escape. He can’t breathe. He thinks he might faint. Then a hand is on his shoulder and his reaction is just instinctual. He whirls and pushes and it’s only belatedly that he realizes the figure stumbling away from him isn’t Georgina. It’s Blair with her perfect curls and shocked expression and his scotch clutched in her hand. Blair that nearly falls backward from the force of his shove. Blair that is glaring at him like he’s the scum of the earth.
Great. Just great.
“What is your problem, Bass?” Blair snaps, and then the anger drains from her eyes. There’s worry there now. Concern. She’s looking at his face. Sees the cold sweat upon his skin. Hears his ragged gasping breaths.
“Are you okay? You don’t look well.”
And he wants to tell her.
But he can’t. He knows he can’t. He couldn’t bare it. The pity. Her pity. She can’t ever know.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” he stammers, and even to him the lie sounds pathetic. He sees his scotch still held in her hands. He grabs it greedily. The liquid sloshes over the rim. Then he’s gulping it down, concentrating on the feeling of acid in his gut. The pain helps. He takes another swig as she stands there dazed, peering up at him as if he’s lost his mind.
She reaches out hesitantly. Her small hand is upon his arm, and he cringes away. Her touch is too soft, too gentle. Her eyes too probing.
“Chuck? Is everything –”
“Are we going to play this fucking game or not?” he demands, cutting her off. It comes out harsher than he means it to. Now there’s hurt in the depths of her chocolate eyes. He can’t stand seeing it, hates that he put it there, but he can’t deal with it. Not now. Abruptly, he strides back to the other room and leaves her standing there in bewilderment.
Nearby, watching them, Georgina smirks.