the silence stings more than your words
They returned after New Year's and things just fell back into place. Nate was the ever doting boyfriend from years past, and he never paid her more attention that he had done previously in the role of boyfriend's best friend.
After a brief conversation in which she demanded to know when he was planning to drop the bomb and consequently ruin her life, to which he replied ‘Tell him about what? " before walking away, there had not been a moment where they found themselves alone.
It was exactly how she had wanted it to be. Their affair had been a brief detour in the plan she had made for herself years ago, and she was not going to let it ruin everything she had worked so hard for.
But as the weeks passed, his dismissal of her started to get at her, eating away at her resolve not to speak to him. It wasn't that he was acting like nothing had happened between them – that was, after all, exactly what she wanted. It was that he was acting like there was nothing between them anymore, no camaraderie, no teasing, no veiled insults and worst of all no friendship.
She had never realised that they were really friends until he had abruptly taken his friendship from her. He no longer called her for random reasons, they no longer met alone ever, and when they were forced into the same company, usually by Nate, he never spoke directly to her.
He was so subtle in his actions; however, that no one else even noticed the change. On the surface it was like nothing had even happened. They were the same as they always had been. He was the same as always. But she couldn't seem to adjust that easily.
It should have been easy for her. She had the perfect boyfriend in Nate and the best friend in Serena, but something was missing and she hated the empty feeling she got every time he subtly found a reason to not be around her.
Of course in true Waldorf fashion, it was weeks before she decided to face up to the reality of the situation.
It didn't take much planning to force a confrontation with the ever evasive Chuck Bass. There was one place she knew he would have to go in order to get from school to his luxury suite at the Palace – his limo. The irony of choosing this particular meeting place wasn't lost on her, but she was sure he would find some way to elude her if she tried to catch him somewhere else.
It took her five minutes to get out of school and charm his driver into letting her wait in his limo for him. It took him a further ten minutes – in which she almost left multiple times – to actually make his way to his waiting transportation.
When he finally got into the limo and saw her there, she noticed the way he tensed, only for a second, before allowing the cool Bass demeanour to take over.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, his tone amused with just a hint of resignation.
"I thought you could give me a ride home," she said, not revealing any other motive for her visit.
He nodded, knowing there was more, but not wanting to ask. He signalled his driver to begin the journey home.
She didn't look at him at first, just continued to play with the ruby on her finger, twisting and turning it until he couldn't take it anymore.
"Blair…"
"Huh?" She looked up, shocked at the broken silence.
"I assume you wanted to talk," he continued.
"Right," she took a moment to pull herself together, reminding herself that this was Chuck Bass, thorn in her side, not Chuck Bass, boy who kept her up at night.
"What the hell is your problem, Bass?" she said finally, her tone sounding decidedly more Blair-like.
"My problem?" he asked, confused.
"You've been avoiding me. Oh, don't give me that look, I know you're not avoiding me, avoiding me, you're just like never around."
"I see you almost every day, Waldorf," he told her, pretending not to know what she was talking about.
"Yes, you see me. But you never talk to me."
"We're talking right now."
"Because I hijacked your limo!" she exclaimed. "Seriously, this is ridiculous. It's not like we're not mature adults. We were friends. We should totally be past this."
"And what this are you referring to exactly?" he smirked, enjoying her getting so riled up.
She glared at him. "You know what I'm talking about," she whispered, even though there was no one around to hear her.
"I'm afraid you're going to have to enlighten me," he said, purposely being difficult. She rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. "I don't know what your problem is. I did exactly what you wanted. I haven't mentioned it to anyone."
"I know," she mumbled. "But you haven't mentioned it to me either."
He looked genuinely confused at that. "I don't get you. Either you want me to forget it ever happened or you don't. Which is it?"
"Look, we didn't even talk after…you just left. And then Nate joined you and then you come back like this completely different person."
"Maybe Nate reminded me that he's the only person I really care about and in true Bass fashion I was about to fuck it up over something-"
"Meaningless?" she supplied, hurt that he would think that.
"I was going for ‘stupid', but I guess meaningless works too," he said bitterly. "And since it was so meaningless, I don't know why we're even talking about it."
"Because we don't seem to talk about anything else either," she said.
"I can't be your friend, Blair," he told her.
"Why?"
"Butterflies that don't seem to want to die," he admitted. "And a best friend I don't want to hurt."
She nodded, realising she couldn't have it both ways anymore. She had made her choice and she had to live with it. The night she gave her virginity to Chuck was the night she firmly placed herself between two best friends. And she couldn't have them both.
"So, that's it?" she asked.
"I guess so."
She paused for a moment, trying to understand what this meant for them. Why was the thought of never being able to talk to him freely again eating her up? He wasn't supposed to mean anything to her. It wasn't supposed to matter. She had a plan, damn it, and he wasn't part of it.
The limo pulled up outside the Waldorf penthouse and she realised this was it. Her last moment with him. There was nothing left to say. Some things were just the way they were.
She moved towards the door and started to get out before she stopped and turned back to him.
"I'm sorry," she said, but she wasn't sure if it was for breaking his heart or her own.
And then she left, closing the limo door, and walking away from him and whatever they could have had.