blakcly !
blakely had thought it would’ve been harder to forget what had happened just last week. she still wasn’t sure if she wanted to, or if it even meant anything. after all, she and blair had always walked a fine line between platonic and romantic. by every definition, however, they’d crossed it. and god, was it confusing. and maybe that’s why she’d left in the morning without a single word, because she still wasn’t sure how to explain it, even to herself. so when blair had suggested they hang out, blakely had been hesitant, and unsure of what that even meant. three glasses of wine later, however, she can’t even remember why she’d been so worried. they stumble out of the restaurant, hand in hand and blakely isn’t sure why she’s giggling, or if anything was even funny, but blair’s fingers feel soft in her own, and her hair looks so shiny in the moonlight. “have i ever told you how pretty you are?” blakely hears herself ask as they head back in the direction of the dorms. @blxirs
blair doesn't know what this means, really. her hair flows behind her, tied back by a single hairtie, her eyes looking tentatively at blake, & then — she's touching her hand, & it all comes back. the soft little whines, the breaths against skin, the kisses on hips. it's all playing back like a broken record with just a single touch. it makes her feel a little dizzy, a little out of space. like she's watching herself, her head telling her " no, don't go THERE past that line, past that place where friends aren't really friends but closer to lovers ". & yet ! her head is telling her " GO " . her head is telling touch her, telling her that blakely is the most beautiful thing that could ever happen to her. & that's the truth, that's a fact. but can she k e e p her ? how long until blakely decides friends were better instead ? " you have. " she says simply, a smile automatically coming to her face, despite the hurt & confusion & fear that she feels deep inside.
