their backs bow where their will would not
Their backs bow where their will would not dan/blair, pg, 330words. written rather hastily. for everything_inme, sorry i'm late.
prompt pic:
Dan and Blair rarely speak, his starts and stuttered stops are punctuated by her expressive eyebrow lifts and together they telegraph their communication. He smiles sarcastically and she smiles sardonically and it almost goes unnoticed that they’re both smiling.
He didn’t mean to be there, hadn’t mean to see, wanted to bore through the floorboards in an attempt to escape. Wandering through the halls of the newly blended home he happened upon a scorned Chuck attempting to hollow out an unrepentant Blair and she defiantly caught his eye over her suitors shoulder, held him to his place. Chuck made his exit, Dan was paralyzed by discomfort and Blair simply walked off. He felt oddly like the janitor left to pick up the aftermath of a relationship that wasn’t his own. But he knew better than to ask if she was ok.
It’s in a busy elevator where students, like rubiks cubes, get on and get off to shape new formations and she somehow clicks down the line between floors four and fourteen until she’s beside him. And he leans into her to acknowledge her presence and they ride like that the rest of the way.
He grazes her a hello when they pass, electric hairs skimming one another’s arms. She pulls at his pinkie when he stands in front of her in line at the student bookstore, he smiles stupidly to himself. His eyes tick elsewhere, hers do as well, a greedy little secret of acknowledgement.
When Serena’s back from Rhode Island she asks about Chuck; Blair doesn’t even bother to leave a glass slipper behind. Dan finds her straddling an island of concrete next to a river that presumably holds the answers to life’s questions at its bottom along with the seedy debris, he sits now facing her.
She leans.
He leans in.
Their foreheads touch.
A soft smile.
He says nothing now. Empathy is a bond and a bridge their bodies make.
It’s in the subtext anyhow.
prompt pic:
Dan and Blair rarely speak, his starts and stuttered stops are punctuated by her expressive eyebrow lifts and together they telegraph their communication. He smiles sarcastically and she smiles sardonically and it almost goes unnoticed that they’re both smiling.
He didn’t mean to be there, hadn’t mean to see, wanted to bore through the floorboards in an attempt to escape. Wandering through the halls of the newly blended home he happened upon a scorned Chuck attempting to hollow out an unrepentant Blair and she defiantly caught his eye over her suitors shoulder, held him to his place. Chuck made his exit, Dan was paralyzed by discomfort and Blair simply walked off. He felt oddly like the janitor left to pick up the aftermath of a relationship that wasn’t his own. But he knew better than to ask if she was ok.
It’s in a busy elevator where students, like rubiks cubes, get on and get off to shape new formations and she somehow clicks down the line between floors four and fourteen until she’s beside him. And he leans into her to acknowledge her presence and they ride like that the rest of the way.
He grazes her a hello when they pass, electric hairs skimming one another’s arms. She pulls at his pinkie when he stands in front of her in line at the student bookstore, he smiles stupidly to himself. His eyes tick elsewhere, hers do as well, a greedy little secret of acknowledgement.
When Serena’s back from Rhode Island she asks about Chuck; Blair doesn’t even bother to leave a glass slipper behind. Dan finds her straddling an island of concrete next to a river that presumably holds the answers to life’s questions at its bottom along with the seedy debris, he sits now facing her.
She leans.
He leans in.
Their foreheads touch.
A soft smile.
He says nothing now. Empathy is a bond and a bridge their bodies make.
It’s in the subtext anyhow.