A/N: Okay, so…I DO have a schedule and I AM planning on sticking to it…but I simply cannot just write 5 bila mpangilio stories straight! I must write some Gossip Girl au I fear I may explode from inability to express myself. Lol. XD *is pathetic* *knows this* My exception to this carefully crafted schedule…is one shots. It is true that sometimes I include them in my schedules, but oftentimes I do not…simply because they come to me so sporadically. Over the last couple days, about three au four one shot ideas have come to me. And while normally I would simply put them in my orodha for ‘book of beginnings’…I do not really see them evolving into stories, but merely one au two scene type things, so therefore…in between updating my fictionpress stories, I’m going to be uandishi up these one shots…so I don’t die from exploding ideas! XD hahahhahaaha.
*clears throat*
Okay, the inspiration for this oneshot came from seeing some stills from earlier GG episodes, specifically the scene from 1x03 when Blair goes to confront Serena at the end. Now even though, Blair is DROP DEAD gorgeous, and in my mind, the most beautiful actress on the show, in this scene I…I don’t know, I guess I just did not feel she was inaonyesha it off as well as she could…BUT! I saw a still that showed a different perspective on her appearance and felt like a complete idiot for not thinking she was just as beautiful in that scene, as in any other….and though this scene probably never happened (the one I’m about to write…), it is a take on a CB conversation after Blair gets nyumbani from her teary-eyed park induced friend saving scene. Enjoy. ;p
………………………………….
The siku was long, and she was weary, and goodness only knows she didn’t want to deal with her the repercussions of her actions that day.
Ha. Repercussions?
It wasn’t that she felt bad about what she had done to Serena, considering they were possibly on good terms now. She had always been Miss Perfect, and juu of that had gone and slept with her boyfriend. She deserved every poor recommendation she got. No one would catch Blair Waldorf having a conscience. But no one would catch her admitting the real reason to her anger either…no one other than the towering blonde at least. She was the only one who really needed to know.
DING.
The elevator opened, and although she was expecting that delightful sekunde mother of a maid to come bustling towards her, she was not entirely disappointed when it didn’t happen, nor confused either.
She simply set down her mfuko wa fedha, mfuko and other belongings on the small end meza, jedwali in the foyer, and sighed deeply. For so many things and so many thoughts had consumed her, and there was still so much she needed to figure out.
But it was a step in the right direction.
A moan.
She froze, and her eyes slowly closed, her fingers clutching themselves momentarily around the edge of her shirt. She took two steps mbele and let a wild huff free from her lips.
“So help me, Chuck Bass, if wewe are whoring up some worthless slut in my sitting room, I—”
She paused, confused, as he lowered the newspaper from in front of his face, and folded it smoothly across the table. He folded his hands neatly across his lazily strewn pant-leg, and raised his eyebrows in amusement to her accusations.
“I…”
He bit his lip, and took no shame in allowing the familiar smirk to find its way to his full lips.
A hand rose to her hip, and the other to her strained forehead. “…a newspaper?” she asked, incredulously, tossing her hand out for a proper dramatic gesture.
He watched her, but no longer than was necessary. He rolled her eyes at the demanding tone in her voice, and rose to his feet. “Good to see wewe too, Waldorf.”
And he walked past her, slow and as lazily as possible—because only Chuck bass, besi walks painfully sluggish and still comes off as cool—and yet, she still could find no words.
When he had nearly made it to the elevator, her feet finally decided to songesha and she promptly stalked over to him.
He had predicted this naturally and stopped walking to turn and look at her.
“Yes?” he asked, and she wouldn’t allow herself to grow irritated this time, because it would take too long, and he would be there longer than necessary.
“What, are wewe doing here?” she asked, snapping away the newspaper that had somehow managed to fall back into his hands.
He watched her hands, and then brought those deep baby browns back to her own. “I was just leaving…actually.” He reached across to push the button for the elevator.
She folded her arms, waiting for him to turn back to her before continuing the speech, which in all honesty, she was not sure, was going anywhere.
“So wewe came to my house, picked up a newspaper and just decided to leave when I got here?” she interrogated, not even attempting to hide the confusion au the bitchiness in her voice.
And that seemingly ever present smirk spread wider across his face. He reached out to tenderly caress her chin with one hand, but she snapped away, and raised her eyebrows. “Well?” she asked.
He sighed, looking away momentarily and wondering where the Hell the elevator had decided to venture on today of all days. His long tan over kanzu, koti swayed around his calves and threatened to create zaidi wetness to his refined slacks. He took a step closer to her, and though she scrunched up her nose, she did not back away.
“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m guessing the whole assassinate S songesha is out, then?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but alisema nothing. He nodded.
“I thought so.”
She made a noise, but it did not configure into an understandable group of words, so he completed his turn around to press the elevator button once more.
DING.
The doors opened, and he held them that way for a brief moment as he turned to bid his final farewell. “By the way,” he began, not continuing until her brown depths rested on his cocky face, “you should wear blazers zaidi often; it leaves zaidi to the imagination.” He smiled, and that was the last straw. She pursed her lips together, and fused her eyebrows in an attempted angry form, pushing him all the way into the elevator, and watching as the sliding door began to close.
“Oooo, feisty,” he winked at her briefly as she huffed at his vanishing form. “It’s the little things, Waldorf!” he shouted, from behind closed doors.
…………………………………….
It wasn’t that she could really find it in herself to be mad at him, because she couldn’t. This was just who he was and she had accepted it, enough to be Marafiki with him at the very least. Chuck bass, besi was a perverted, arrogant bastard. But he cared about Nate, which meant he cared about Nate’s relationship with her. And though Chuck bass, besi still allowed himself to hit on Blair Waldorf, she noticed he did it considerably less and a whole hell of a lot lighter than with any other slut, au dare she say, Constance attendee.
Whatever the matter, she wouldn’t take it to heart, and found it best to just climb gracefully up the stairwell and fall sweetly onto her silk sheets and comforter. It had not crossed her mind that Chuck had somehow managed to get the newspaper back from her for no other reason than to have outwitted her, au that before she was even able to think about Serena au turn on Breakfast at Tiffany’s for another round of laughter and tears…her phone had gone off and it was surprisingly Nate Archibald.
It was true, and she did stare suspiciously at the name of the one she would have leaped to before. Everything had just gotten so messed up, and even if she was going to try and trust him again, it was difficult with him always making eyes at a purposely ignorant Serena across the room.
But she allowed it no zaidi than a sekunde ring.
“Nate?” she asked. It was a question. And color-id wasn’t enough. She needed proof. First Chuck bass, besi kusoma a newspaper in her sitting room and then Nate calling her spontaneously?
“Hey Blair, h-how are wewe doing?” he asked, trying to remain neutral au perhaps even positive in the events of what was going on.
She furrowed her brows, beyond weirded out now. “I’m fine…” she spoke slowly, “why do wewe call?”
“Uh….I-I just wanted to see how wewe were doing, and I wanted to say…that…”
She raised her eyes now, and would have not considered this any stupider if he had been in front of her. “Yes?” she asked.
“You looked beautiful today.”
A small smile appeared on her face.
“Thanks,” she paused, suddenly taken in kwa his flattering compliment. “I-I noticed wewe left early,” and with her sudden stuttering , she figured it was not completely unreasonable that he had done so earlier.
“Yeah, I-I just…needed some air.”
Now she laughed, and the quiet cute giggle was just the thing to put him at ease. au at least it made Chuck feel better. “It was outside, Nate.”
“Right,” he chuckled nervously at her comment, but a few zaidi giggles escaped her and he didn’t feel the need to explain himself.
The thought occurred to him that he could explain to her how inferior he felt to his father and how messed up and pressured everything was.
But she was Blair Waldorf, and she didn’t care for those things. Not in the way Nate believed she would. And she could never help him in that way.
His expression appeared zoned and Chuck picked up right away, snapping his fingers in front of the blonde face. Instantly Nate refocused and made sure to turn away before he witnessed the complete shaking of his best friend’s head.
Ten dakika later and they were saying their goodbyes. Blair was smiling like an idiot on the other end, and had managed to drift past her mirror a grand total of seven times without actually criticizing her appearance. The young bass, besi was practically mouthing all the compliments and proper things to say to the beautiful young daughter of Eleanor. He wasn’t stupid, unlike his attractive friend. He knew Nate had his sights set on Serena van der Woodsen, but if he could help it that would be dissolved soon enough.
And if an attempted rape to the usually flawless blonde didn’t fix things, then he would be on Nate’s guard as often as possible to force these compliments. To force him to care. Because regardless of what he said, Blair’s feelings were not at the forefront, and if lying to her could get him to realize this, that mother chucker was going to get it done.
CLICK.
“How was that?” the far too uncertain blonde boy asked his over confident best friend.
“Well…it wasn’t a complete failure.”
Nate sighed.
“Did wewe tell her wewe loved her?” he pressured, face closer than necessary with its penetrating glare.
“Uh….oh…sh—”
Chuck sighed and placed a hand on his friend’s opposite shoulder. “It’s okay, Archibald. Baby steps.”
The two boys turned to walk further down the street, meeting up with Chuck’s limo and losing themselves in drugs and alcohol in the back of that deliciously suave limo. It was all bass, besi Jr. could do to get Nate to lay off the serious intensified college talk. And he would thank him in the future when Blair came running to him, stripping her clothes as she went.
….hoping he didn’t reject her. AGAIN.
And for a millisecond, Chuck actually hoped Serena made it work with Brooklyn boy. It would certainly help him.
One committed relationship down. One to go. And in the midst of his high state, blonde boy didn’t even notice when the reasonably zaidi sober buddy of his aliiba his calling device and texted his girlfriend a painfully cheesy text message…one that she would completely eat up.
He smirked to himself. What Nate didn’t know…wouldn’t hurt him. He slid the cell back towards his side of the seat, and allowed himself to finally officially let loose.
No zaidi Blair Waldorf to worry about. Her feelings were safe…at least for tonight.
…………………………………………………….
BZZ.
She had put it on vibrate so as to not interrupt her movie completely, but pausing Audrey mid-sentence did not affect her now. Not when her recently reaffirmed boyfriend had decided to pile on the compliments…simply because he missed her.
She blushed just seeing his name shoot across her screen, and opened the message eagerly.
Forgot something. upendo you.
-XOXO N
GASP.
How romantic.
…………………………………………………..
A/N: Okay, not really sure if this worked…the thoughts and all, and I definitely wasn’t trying to make it as NB as I did, but what can I say? It’s just what came to me. Lol. XD Please review! =D
*clears throat*
Okay, the inspiration for this oneshot came from seeing some stills from earlier GG episodes, specifically the scene from 1x03 when Blair goes to confront Serena at the end. Now even though, Blair is DROP DEAD gorgeous, and in my mind, the most beautiful actress on the show, in this scene I…I don’t know, I guess I just did not feel she was inaonyesha it off as well as she could…BUT! I saw a still that showed a different perspective on her appearance and felt like a complete idiot for not thinking she was just as beautiful in that scene, as in any other….and though this scene probably never happened (the one I’m about to write…), it is a take on a CB conversation after Blair gets nyumbani from her teary-eyed park induced friend saving scene. Enjoy. ;p
………………………………….
The siku was long, and she was weary, and goodness only knows she didn’t want to deal with her the repercussions of her actions that day.
Ha. Repercussions?
It wasn’t that she felt bad about what she had done to Serena, considering they were possibly on good terms now. She had always been Miss Perfect, and juu of that had gone and slept with her boyfriend. She deserved every poor recommendation she got. No one would catch Blair Waldorf having a conscience. But no one would catch her admitting the real reason to her anger either…no one other than the towering blonde at least. She was the only one who really needed to know.
DING.
The elevator opened, and although she was expecting that delightful sekunde mother of a maid to come bustling towards her, she was not entirely disappointed when it didn’t happen, nor confused either.
She simply set down her mfuko wa fedha, mfuko and other belongings on the small end meza, jedwali in the foyer, and sighed deeply. For so many things and so many thoughts had consumed her, and there was still so much she needed to figure out.
But it was a step in the right direction.
A moan.
She froze, and her eyes slowly closed, her fingers clutching themselves momentarily around the edge of her shirt. She took two steps mbele and let a wild huff free from her lips.
“So help me, Chuck Bass, if wewe are whoring up some worthless slut in my sitting room, I—”
She paused, confused, as he lowered the newspaper from in front of his face, and folded it smoothly across the table. He folded his hands neatly across his lazily strewn pant-leg, and raised his eyebrows in amusement to her accusations.
“I…”
He bit his lip, and took no shame in allowing the familiar smirk to find its way to his full lips.
A hand rose to her hip, and the other to her strained forehead. “…a newspaper?” she asked, incredulously, tossing her hand out for a proper dramatic gesture.
He watched her, but no longer than was necessary. He rolled her eyes at the demanding tone in her voice, and rose to his feet. “Good to see wewe too, Waldorf.”
And he walked past her, slow and as lazily as possible—because only Chuck bass, besi walks painfully sluggish and still comes off as cool—and yet, she still could find no words.
When he had nearly made it to the elevator, her feet finally decided to songesha and she promptly stalked over to him.
He had predicted this naturally and stopped walking to turn and look at her.
“Yes?” he asked, and she wouldn’t allow herself to grow irritated this time, because it would take too long, and he would be there longer than necessary.
“What, are wewe doing here?” she asked, snapping away the newspaper that had somehow managed to fall back into his hands.
He watched her hands, and then brought those deep baby browns back to her own. “I was just leaving…actually.” He reached across to push the button for the elevator.
She folded her arms, waiting for him to turn back to her before continuing the speech, which in all honesty, she was not sure, was going anywhere.
“So wewe came to my house, picked up a newspaper and just decided to leave when I got here?” she interrogated, not even attempting to hide the confusion au the bitchiness in her voice.
And that seemingly ever present smirk spread wider across his face. He reached out to tenderly caress her chin with one hand, but she snapped away, and raised her eyebrows. “Well?” she asked.
He sighed, looking away momentarily and wondering where the Hell the elevator had decided to venture on today of all days. His long tan over kanzu, koti swayed around his calves and threatened to create zaidi wetness to his refined slacks. He took a step closer to her, and though she scrunched up her nose, she did not back away.
“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m guessing the whole assassinate S songesha is out, then?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but alisema nothing. He nodded.
“I thought so.”
She made a noise, but it did not configure into an understandable group of words, so he completed his turn around to press the elevator button once more.
DING.
The doors opened, and he held them that way for a brief moment as he turned to bid his final farewell. “By the way,” he began, not continuing until her brown depths rested on his cocky face, “you should wear blazers zaidi often; it leaves zaidi to the imagination.” He smiled, and that was the last straw. She pursed her lips together, and fused her eyebrows in an attempted angry form, pushing him all the way into the elevator, and watching as the sliding door began to close.
“Oooo, feisty,” he winked at her briefly as she huffed at his vanishing form. “It’s the little things, Waldorf!” he shouted, from behind closed doors.
…………………………………….
It wasn’t that she could really find it in herself to be mad at him, because she couldn’t. This was just who he was and she had accepted it, enough to be Marafiki with him at the very least. Chuck bass, besi was a perverted, arrogant bastard. But he cared about Nate, which meant he cared about Nate’s relationship with her. And though Chuck bass, besi still allowed himself to hit on Blair Waldorf, she noticed he did it considerably less and a whole hell of a lot lighter than with any other slut, au dare she say, Constance attendee.
Whatever the matter, she wouldn’t take it to heart, and found it best to just climb gracefully up the stairwell and fall sweetly onto her silk sheets and comforter. It had not crossed her mind that Chuck had somehow managed to get the newspaper back from her for no other reason than to have outwitted her, au that before she was even able to think about Serena au turn on Breakfast at Tiffany’s for another round of laughter and tears…her phone had gone off and it was surprisingly Nate Archibald.
It was true, and she did stare suspiciously at the name of the one she would have leaped to before. Everything had just gotten so messed up, and even if she was going to try and trust him again, it was difficult with him always making eyes at a purposely ignorant Serena across the room.
But she allowed it no zaidi than a sekunde ring.
“Nate?” she asked. It was a question. And color-id wasn’t enough. She needed proof. First Chuck bass, besi kusoma a newspaper in her sitting room and then Nate calling her spontaneously?
“Hey Blair, h-how are wewe doing?” he asked, trying to remain neutral au perhaps even positive in the events of what was going on.
She furrowed her brows, beyond weirded out now. “I’m fine…” she spoke slowly, “why do wewe call?”
“Uh….I-I just wanted to see how wewe were doing, and I wanted to say…that…”
She raised her eyes now, and would have not considered this any stupider if he had been in front of her. “Yes?” she asked.
“You looked beautiful today.”
A small smile appeared on her face.
“Thanks,” she paused, suddenly taken in kwa his flattering compliment. “I-I noticed wewe left early,” and with her sudden stuttering , she figured it was not completely unreasonable that he had done so earlier.
“Yeah, I-I just…needed some air.”
Now she laughed, and the quiet cute giggle was just the thing to put him at ease. au at least it made Chuck feel better. “It was outside, Nate.”
“Right,” he chuckled nervously at her comment, but a few zaidi giggles escaped her and he didn’t feel the need to explain himself.
The thought occurred to him that he could explain to her how inferior he felt to his father and how messed up and pressured everything was.
But she was Blair Waldorf, and she didn’t care for those things. Not in the way Nate believed she would. And she could never help him in that way.
His expression appeared zoned and Chuck picked up right away, snapping his fingers in front of the blonde face. Instantly Nate refocused and made sure to turn away before he witnessed the complete shaking of his best friend’s head.
Ten dakika later and they were saying their goodbyes. Blair was smiling like an idiot on the other end, and had managed to drift past her mirror a grand total of seven times without actually criticizing her appearance. The young bass, besi was practically mouthing all the compliments and proper things to say to the beautiful young daughter of Eleanor. He wasn’t stupid, unlike his attractive friend. He knew Nate had his sights set on Serena van der Woodsen, but if he could help it that would be dissolved soon enough.
And if an attempted rape to the usually flawless blonde didn’t fix things, then he would be on Nate’s guard as often as possible to force these compliments. To force him to care. Because regardless of what he said, Blair’s feelings were not at the forefront, and if lying to her could get him to realize this, that mother chucker was going to get it done.
CLICK.
“How was that?” the far too uncertain blonde boy asked his over confident best friend.
“Well…it wasn’t a complete failure.”
Nate sighed.
“Did wewe tell her wewe loved her?” he pressured, face closer than necessary with its penetrating glare.
“Uh….oh…sh—”
Chuck sighed and placed a hand on his friend’s opposite shoulder. “It’s okay, Archibald. Baby steps.”
The two boys turned to walk further down the street, meeting up with Chuck’s limo and losing themselves in drugs and alcohol in the back of that deliciously suave limo. It was all bass, besi Jr. could do to get Nate to lay off the serious intensified college talk. And he would thank him in the future when Blair came running to him, stripping her clothes as she went.
….hoping he didn’t reject her. AGAIN.
And for a millisecond, Chuck actually hoped Serena made it work with Brooklyn boy. It would certainly help him.
One committed relationship down. One to go. And in the midst of his high state, blonde boy didn’t even notice when the reasonably zaidi sober buddy of his aliiba his calling device and texted his girlfriend a painfully cheesy text message…one that she would completely eat up.
He smirked to himself. What Nate didn’t know…wouldn’t hurt him. He slid the cell back towards his side of the seat, and allowed himself to finally officially let loose.
No zaidi Blair Waldorf to worry about. Her feelings were safe…at least for tonight.
…………………………………………………….
BZZ.
She had put it on vibrate so as to not interrupt her movie completely, but pausing Audrey mid-sentence did not affect her now. Not when her recently reaffirmed boyfriend had decided to pile on the compliments…simply because he missed her.
She blushed just seeing his name shoot across her screen, and opened the message eagerly.
Forgot something. upendo you.
-XOXO N
GASP.
How romantic.
…………………………………………………..
A/N: Okay, not really sure if this worked…the thoughts and all, and I definitely wasn’t trying to make it as NB as I did, but what can I say? It’s just what came to me. Lol. XD Please review! =D
