


“What do you think you’re doing here?” she says, but drops the act when she sees him, broken on the bed. His eyes are empty, almost afraid and almost sad and almost asking. He doesn’t have to. She throws herself on him, against his strong back, and she takes the weight it carries; she curls herself around him. Around Chuck Bass, his aching loneliness and pain and anger: the beast in the cage, who knows the tigers and the monsters in her and doesn’t care at all. The worst thing she’s ever done, the darkest thought she’s ever had, and Chuck Bass loves her for them. Around Charles, the good strong son, the calm and patient boyfriend he waits so eternally to be, to stand with her through anything, if he were only brave enough. Around Charlie Trout, limp as a doll, leaning back against her, being held. I am me, and you are you. She calls him back across the line, with her arms around him, and everything drains out until there’s nothing left, just pieces she collects and holds together. With all the strength in that tiny fierce frame.

Love him!!
Reasons why I’ll be single forever: Ed Westwick





