DISCLAIMER: Gossip Girl and its characters are the property of Cecily von Ziegesar and Warner Bros. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just a little one-shot I thought of. Takes place pre-TV show, before Serena leave for boarding shcool.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Scared To Death To Find Out What You Think Of Me
By Sydney Redfield

 

"You two are like the perfect couple," Serena says.

Your eyes trace the curves of the blonde's face, her tan skin, perfect cheekbones, pillowy lips. They scan over her shining hair, a messy but flattering ponytail, falling just so to compliment her sparkling blue eyes.

'She couldn't be more perfect,' you think, a smile gracing your lips.

"Earth to Blair." Serena's hand waves in front of your face, pulling you from your thoughts.

"You think so?" You ask, finally responding. You know there was doubt evident in the words, despite the fact that you tried to hide it.

"Yeah. You two just...work. Or something. It's kinda sweet, first loves and all." You can sense something in Serena's tone - jealousy, maybe - but quickly dismiss it. "I'm sick of always getting the short end of the stick."

"Maybe if you weren't such a whore," you say, your attempt at seriousness undermined by the fact that you can't even get the first few words out without cracking a smile.

"Blair!"

"I'm kidding," you say, swiping the bottle of champagne from Serena's hands as she brings it from her lips. It's warmer than you like it, but it's good for what you need and you can taste Serena's mouth on the glass. "You call this working? Nate's in there, doing god knows what with any number of Chuck's partygoers. Probably stoned out of his mind."

Your eyes sweep the city below as you speak, looking anywhere but her. "And I'm out here with you. Sounds like some perfect couple to me." Your voice was harsher than you intended and you wished you could apologize for it, but you just didn't have the energy.

"You make it sound like I'm such a horrible second option. Like you don't want to be here," Serena says, watching you fall into one of the chairs. You gaze up into the night sky, watching all the stars and wishing you could just fade away like they do. If only for a little bit, it might be nice to just get away and start all over.

"That's not what I mean," You say, slightly exasperated, but not with her. You take her hand, squeezing lightly to reassure her that you really do like being with her. You tug, pulling the blonde into your lap, causing you both to giggle. "And you better know you're not just a 'second option' to me."

Serena sighs and leans back against you, her entire body pressing against you as she traced random shapes over the arm wrapped loosely around her waist. The touches send chills up your spine and you'd never wanted to kiss her more than you did in that moment.

You desperately wanted to be able to finally confess to her how in love you are. That you dreamt about stealing her away from the world and starting all over. Together. It's not an easy thing to tell your best friend, though, and you don't want to risk losing her, so you settle for enjoying the silence. It's usually better that way.

It's surprisingly quiet out on the balcony, the occasional taxi horn being the only thing you can hear faintly in the background. Serena lulls you into a comfort with her touches and you relax even more.

"Why do you think we became such good friends?" Serena's voice startles you and you jump slightly. She stops the repetitive tracing on your arm and despite the closeness you miss the contact already. You'd been laying there in silence for what seemed like at least an hour with her fingers gliding over your skin and though the sudden sound scared you slightly, she was always a welcome disturbance.

You shrug as you twist your fingers in her long locks...winding in and winding out as you search for the perfect answer for her question. Logically, you became friends because you have compatible personalities but there was something about the way she asked it that made you realize that she wanted an answer more detailed than that.

You tell her as much, ending with, "I know you're looking for something deeper. I just don't have anything deeper than that to offer right now."

Accepting that answer, she resumes the touches and relaxes against your body again. 'She's just a friend,' you remind yourself as you feel those surges through your body again. After a few more minutes of silence, she speaks again. "Are you happy?"

You're not sure if she means in a general sense or in that moment. "Right now, yes," you answer honestly.

"You mean, like, with me?" She asks, adjusting so she can look at you. Her voice is shaky and you find it charming that behind all the grown up attitude and need to be treated like an adult, she's really just a girl, just as insecure are you are.

"Yes, like, with you. As in right in this moment...I'm happy," you tell her and you wonder if that idea of not telling her is going to hold.

"Good," she says, adjusting again so she's cuddled against you, burying her head against your neck. "I am too," she whispers, lips brushing against your skin and for the first time in the past few months, you know she's not lying.

The End

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