if you're lonely
Dan, Serena. 514 words. Pre-series.
Summary That's always how Serena is for him – this distant flash of blonde hair and short skirt whipping around a corner just out of sight, a memory before she's even a reality.
Note: Originally posted here. I always had such a thing for bb!DS where he is a loner and she is a party girl and I know that show kind of ruined that, but...still dig it.
Dan imagines things that he could say to her.
Things like: Hi. My name is Dan.
Things like: I hope you don't think I'm creepy or anything, but we talked at this party once and I never forgot it.
People probably tell you this all the time, but you're really beautiful. Do you have a favorite movie, favorite song, favorite color, favorite book? What are you thinking about in those moments where the other girls are laughing but you're not, when your joy dims and you look away, oddly somber amidst all the cheer? How is it you can look so happy and so sad at once?
He'd be too embarrassed to say any of that stuff to her, though. At Britt Jensen's party – the party Dan was accidentally invited to – he'd barely been able to say anything, had swallowed most of it his words and nodded along wide-eyed.
Serena – sometimes he repeats her name in his head while doing little stupid tasks, dishes or walking to class or whatever, liking the sound of it, Serena– had leaned into him familiarly, a half-empty bottle of vodka clasped in one hand and her hair in her face.
Hi, she'd said, musical, giggly. Her lips were glossy pink and she was close enough that he could see where her makeup had settled badly, slightly too dark with sweat. Dan thought something like that would make her more human but she only seemed less, somehow. What was your name again?
"Dan," he'd mumbled, "Dan."
She'd smiles, wide and happy. Hi Dave, and a swallow of vodka. She offered him the bottle. You want?
He'd blinked. "Uh," he'd said. "I, uh, I don't like…um. Vodka."
Serena had nodded, brows drawing together, full of understanding. I'll get you something else!
"No," he'd said, suddenly horrified at his own stupidity, wanting to keep her there, "No, it's okay –"
But she was already gone.
That's always how Serena is for him – this distant flash of blonde hair and short skirt whipping around a corner just out of sight, a memory before she's even a reality.
He sees her only once a day, in the gap between first period and second when he has math and she has something she's always late for; she has to dash through the main hall to get there, conveniently passing his locker. He waits, still and embarrassed for himself, to hear the quick patter of her boots, the jangling of her bracelets, her laughter; he waits for her to pass by him, with that boyfriend of her friend's by her side. He sees her only from behind, golden hair hanging straight like spun silk or twisted into a long braid or knotted up at the base of her neck. Her sweaters always drape from her shoulders, revealing non-uniform white spaghetti strap tank tops, tan skin. Her nails shine metallic.
Dan is only fifteen and Serena van der Woodsen is so far outside his orbit she might as well be in space and she's only spoken ten words to him but he loves her, he thinks.
Dan, Serena. 514 words. Pre-series.
Summary That's always how Serena is for him – this distant flash of blonde hair and short skirt whipping around a corner just out of sight, a memory before she's even a reality.
Note: Originally posted here. I always had such a thing for bb!DS where he is a loner and she is a party girl and I know that show kind of ruined that, but...still dig it.
Dan imagines things that he could say to her.
Things like: Hi. My name is Dan.
Things like: I hope you don't think I'm creepy or anything, but we talked at this party once and I never forgot it.
People probably tell you this all the time, but you're really beautiful. Do you have a favorite movie, favorite song, favorite color, favorite book? What are you thinking about in those moments where the other girls are laughing but you're not, when your joy dims and you look away, oddly somber amidst all the cheer? How is it you can look so happy and so sad at once?
He'd be too embarrassed to say any of that stuff to her, though. At Britt Jensen's party – the party Dan was accidentally invited to – he'd barely been able to say anything, had swallowed most of it his words and nodded along wide-eyed.
Serena – sometimes he repeats her name in his head while doing little stupid tasks, dishes or walking to class or whatever, liking the sound of it, Serena– had leaned into him familiarly, a half-empty bottle of vodka clasped in one hand and her hair in her face.
Hi, she'd said, musical, giggly. Her lips were glossy pink and she was close enough that he could see where her makeup had settled badly, slightly too dark with sweat. Dan thought something like that would make her more human but she only seemed less, somehow. What was your name again?
"Dan," he'd mumbled, "Dan."
She'd smiles, wide and happy. Hi Dave, and a swallow of vodka. She offered him the bottle. You want?
He'd blinked. "Uh," he'd said. "I, uh, I don't like…um. Vodka."
Serena had nodded, brows drawing together, full of understanding. I'll get you something else!
"No," he'd said, suddenly horrified at his own stupidity, wanting to keep her there, "No, it's okay –"
But she was already gone.
That's always how Serena is for him – this distant flash of blonde hair and short skirt whipping around a corner just out of sight, a memory before she's even a reality.
He sees her only once a day, in the gap between first period and second when he has math and she has something she's always late for; she has to dash through the main hall to get there, conveniently passing his locker. He waits, still and embarrassed for himself, to hear the quick patter of her boots, the jangling of her bracelets, her laughter; he waits for her to pass by him, with that boyfriend of her friend's by her side. He sees her only from behind, golden hair hanging straight like spun silk or twisted into a long braid or knotted up at the base of her neck. Her sweaters always drape from her shoulders, revealing non-uniform white spaghetti strap tank tops, tan skin. Her nails shine metallic.
Dan is only fifteen and Serena van der Woodsen is so far outside his orbit she might as well be in space and she's only spoken ten words to him but he loves her, he thinks.