An Inevitable Past

Chapter 4: The Brown Haired Girl

Continuation of the Prologue
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"Who are you?" He mutters under his breath. When he saw those words etched into the canvas, he knew something was wrong.

Something tragic had happened. And he had a feeling it was his fault. He'd never believed in reincarnation or past lives but the moment he saw his name on the painting, he knew those kinds of beliefs had to be related to this beautiful, but sad art in front of him.

He spotted Mr. Jones on his side, making him hold back tears in his eyes.

"Don't try and hide it, Mr. Bass. I have no idea what kind of connection you have with this painting right here but it must be deep and heartbreaking enough to let the only child of Bart Bass cry." He joked.

"Apparently." Chuck said, just realizing it now that not a person made him feel this much pain but an object. An object made him cry.

"My wife managed to make me agree to your. . . terms. Well, not exactly. I've decided to give it up. A big loss for me, though. This painting is unique and. . . mesmerizing." Chuck turned his attention to him whose eyes were set on the piece of art in front of them.

"I can almost feel the pain behind this," said the old man before walking away. He had not given him a check. Jones said he'd feel like he was disrespecting the painting if he sold it for a price when really, it was priceless.

Chuck saw him as a dramatic man but he was thankful for that. At least he didn't spend a penny on it.

He instructed some employees of his to move the painting to his room at the Empire, where it was hung carefully in the wall of his room. He thought putting it in the living room would be dangerous for some reason.

He jumped onto his bed again, and looked at it until he slowly dozed off to sleep.

***

October 03, 1800

"You're too kind to me, Miss. Is my face that handsome for you to scream in shock?" He grinned at Blair who was still trying to process news.

"You."' She pointed her finger at him. "You're the one I'm engaged to?" She made a face that made him hold back a chuckle.

"I knew there was something off with the woman. Your mother did not show you a portrait of mine?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

Blair couldn't help but admit he had perfect eyebrows. His jawline looked flawless and his lips. . .

She was sure they were soft. But his personality was anything but attractive. He was arrogant and boastful. A jokester, too. Blair hoped for a prince. A lord, a charming man.

Although the man in front of her was quite charming too. .  . still! She thought her mother could have picked someone better.

"We do not exactly agree on a lot of things. I cannot believe this. Did you already know I was your soon to be bride when we met yesterday?" She asks in disbelief.

He looked away, blushing. "Maybe. . . I did, maybe I didn't. It doesn't matter now, does it? Now, you know. Would you mind saying a little introduction?" He stepped closer, making her heartbeat speed up.

"I prefer if you go first, actually. You owe me, anyway. For not telling me." She objected, in which he smirked in response.

He takes her hand and brings it to his lips. She had been right. His lips felt so soft in the back of her hand. The kiss made her feel something in her stomach.

Butterflies?

"I'm Chuck Bass." He whispers, slowly giving her hand back. Her mouth opens a little, gasping for some air.

"B-Blair Waldorf. That's my name." She cleared her throat and fake coughed, scolding herself for stuttering.

"Well, Miss Blair Waldorf. We are to be wed soon. We should get to know each other don't you think?" He fixed his posture and gave his arm for her to grasp.

"Although I don't exactly like the idea of being in an arranged marriage, I suppose you're right. If there is someone who knows my mother best, it is me. And knowing her, she won't listen to my opinions. I guess you really will be my spouse." She frowned at the last sentence.

If only there was a way to convince her mother otherwise.

"So. . . Miss Waldorf, you know I have an interest for art, what are your interests?" He starts to question.

Blair thought about it. All she ever did was write in her diary, cross stitch and feed the ducks with her loyal maid. Although she thought paintings were also very beautiful she never really tried holding a brush before.

"You just made me realize there is nothing interesting about me. I don't sketch, I don't sing, there is nothing thrilling to know about me."

She glanced at him and shrugs. Chuck shook his head, in full disagreement. He believes there was something more to her. Something 'thrilling' as she said. If there wasn't then he must be sick. Why on earth would his heart be pounding in his chest whenever he'd feel her presence.

Worse, she was so close. Her hand was on his arm and that had made his insides go wild. She didn't seem to notice.

"I shall teach you how to paint. Who knows? Maybe you have an undiscovered talent inside you only I can develop." Blair snorts at his words.

"Your turn, Mr. Bass. Tell me more about you. Your future wife needs more information about the man she is marrying." He smiles a little, taking a deep breath.

What was there to say? If anything, he was the uninteresting one.

"I like to play baseball." He tells her. Blair glares at him in which he responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Really," she said.

"Yes, really. My friend from the past village I lived in made me love the sport. It's a good sport." He defended himself.

"There happens to be a game tomorrow." Blair mentions. Chuck smirks and pretends not to know, even though he knew ahead of her.

"Then would you like to go? With me?" He looks away, feeling a bit of shy. Blair blushed secretly, trying to hide her pinkish cheeks by looking down.

"I suppose denying an invite to a baseball game is rude. Yes, I will go with you to the baseball game, Mr. Bass." She replied.

Chuck Bass had no interest in the sport. Hell, he didn't even know a single thing about baseball.

But what he did know was that this girl beside him had been the reason of why he hasn't been feeling lonely for 48 hours.
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