DISCLAIMER: I hereby declare that I neither own nor do I, in any way, profit from the Gossip Girl franchise and all creative rights belong to its original creators. All original characters, plots and/or whatnots are mine alone and their use without permission is heavily frowned upon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for Challenge #213 ~ Intoxicated at femslash100.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

When The Clock Strikes Midnight
By shyath


How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Serena closes the doors to the balcony soundly behind her and stands quietly there for just a moment, looking at Blair with slightly glazed eyes.

"You're drunk," Blair comments disapprovingly, stepping back and away. "Why did you call me out here, Serena? I have a masquerade ball to oversee, you realise."

Serena steps forward and catches at Blair's retreating arm. None too freely, I do not think. She tugs – once, hard – at the wrist, spins Blair back and holds her in the circle of her arms with strength not befitting someone supposedly intoxicated. "Blair," Serena whispers finally, breaking her silence. "Kiss me," she requests suddenly.

The instinctively sharp retort dies on Blair's lips. There is something terribly fragile about Serena's voice, something terribly sad and Blair fears one wrong move of any sort from her will break this suddenly delicate person. Blair's breath comes out shakily, blossoming into big, white puffs and her fingers, cold and stiff, warm as they land on the curves of Serena's cheeks. "What's wrong?" she asks, carefully moderating her tone and watching the movements of Serena's eyes – fidgety, unsteady, heartbreaking and they only seem to grow more so when Blair cups her face.

None too purely either, I am afraid. "Please," Serena begs, her own fingers curling inward as she places her hands on the sides of Blair's neck. But – I will, with all confidence, presume this one thing. "Kiss me, Blair," Serena repeats the request, breathing it against a flushed cheek, wafts of Blair's perfume drifting and tickling her senses. There is a familiarity in all of this, a beautiful comfort – like hot chocolate on a rainy day, like home on a Christmas morning.

"You're crying," Blair remarks evasively, brushing away the tears and feeling like crying herself when the tears only come more fiercely, more quickly. "What's wrong, S?" She should just come right out and tell Serena that she could not, that she should not. Things are different now, they are no longer the same and there are certain rules that she has to abide to, that Serena as well has to abide to.

"Just this once, just for tonight," Serena croaks, her voice breaking, shattering and her tears are hot and feel almost solid as they touch Blair's skin. I love with a passion that burns, that robs me of all free will. I love until it hurts, until it heals, until it hurts all over again. I love like I am dying.

"I can't," Blair finally answers, wrapping her arms tightly around Serena's neck.

Serena sobs into Blair's hair and the force with which they are holding each other is probably ruining the costumes they are wearing. When they finally return inside to the Halloween masquerade ball, they will probably look awful, people will most likely talk, but right now, Blair could not care less and she doubts that Serena would either. "Yes, you can!" Serena hisses. "Just kiss me. You don't need to think about Nate. There's just you and me right now. No one else! So, just – please, just kiss me so that I – so I can -"

"I can't," Blair says emphatically. She wants to say more, but chooses to pull back instead – slowly, reluctantly. She pats Serena's cheek fondly. "It's okay. When you wake up tomorrow, you'll forget all about this."

Serena shakes her head vehemently in disagreement, wrapping her arms around herself as if suddenly cold.

"You will and we'll both go back to being good friends. Just like always."

Serena rubs the back of her hand vigorously against her wet eyes. "I won't."

Blair glances back inside. "Nate's gesturing for me. I have to go now."

"B," Serena says in a strangled tone, something halfway between a request and a plea.

"It's okay," Blair repeats more fervently. Who is she trying to reassure by this point? "You're just a little drunk. You'll feel better come morning."

Serena sniffs. "I love you, B."

Blair smiles – a little sadly, a little regretfully. "Bye, S," she says softly as she picks up the skirt of her gown and makes her way back in and to Nate.

The End

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