Chuck finds her on the steps of the Met, under the cold rain, alone and hugging herself.

"What's this, Waldorf?"

She looks at him with red eyes, and he regrets teasing her almost instantly.

"Go away, Chuck. Not in the mood to quarrel with you today."

"And where is. . .Lord Marcus?"

He sees her wince as he says Marcus' name, and he decided to sit beside her and wear the rain out together.

"Long story."

"I've got time, Waldorf."

Her chocolate brown eyes turn to him, and his breath catches, just for that moment. He wants to kiss her tears away and wrap his arms around her tiny frame, but he knows he can't.

He just can't.

"What makes you think I'd tell you, of all people?"

He thinks about this. "Who else do you have, then? Serena? Nate? Dorota?"

She frowns at his snicker, and he turns serious at once. "Chuck, I told you, I'm not in the mood—"

"Okay. Forget the Dorota thing. I'm here, Blair, and since we're not anywhere near a bed right now—though I have no preference--, I'm going listen, and you're going to talk."

"I saw a. . .picture of Marcus and Catherine kissing. Sick, really. The duchess and Marcus having sex in the morning. It's just. . .Marcus—"

"I know." He doesn't want, or need to hear the rest. Chuck stands up, ignoring the rain pelting him, and holds out a hand to her. "Come on. Let's get you out of the rain."

She raises a perfect eyebrow. "Sudden change of heart, Bass? I don't need your pity."

"Don't flatter yourself."

He takes her hand in his and pulls her into his waiting limo, and tells his driver to take him to his suite. She looks too vulnerable to play games with, and all he wants to do is take care of her. So he orders her to take a shower, and when she comes out in his shirt, he can't help but smile (And Chuck Bass only smirks).

"Here," he says, handing her a mug of hot chocolate. "I apologize for the lack of skills I have in making hot chocolate, but you'll have to deal with it."

She smiles wearily and takes a sip. "Not bad."

"Thanks. Are you warm enough?"

"I'm fine."

And there's silence, for a long while. Not uncomfortable, or awkward at all, really. Just that they're both looking into each other's eyes, unmoving, and trying to get control of their thoughts and hearts.

"It would be so much easier if we were always like this." She looks up to him with her eyes, still slightly red, and he takes a seat next to her.

"I know, Blair. It's just. . you know we can't."

"Figured that out." She sets the empty mug on the coffee table and leans back on the couch, with Chuck's eyes watching her intently. "By the way, today is never to be talked about again."

He smirks. "You mean you crying in the rain for your little. . .Lord, and me rescuing you?"

"No. Well, kind of."

He nods, and glances around. "So, what happens now? You're going to. . .dump Marcus, right? I mean, I assume. . ."

She grins. "Chuck Bass reduced to a jealous ex. "

"Shut up."

He smiles at her, and she smiles back, and then his fingers are trailing her face, and her hair. His lips follow, gently kissing her, and she kisses back, because the warmth of him is more than enough for this cold, rainy day. Suddenly, the couch feels too small.

"I want you," Chuck breathes. "But I know those aren't exactly the words you want to hear. Just wait for me."

And he means it. Because he knew that those three words and eight letters could wait, just a tiny bit more. All that matters right now, is Blair.

She nods and leans her head against him. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. We're okay."

"Good. Now smile for me, won't you?" He strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. "You frown way too much, Waldorf."

"I am smiling," she replies softly. "So are you, Bass."