Shock kept Blair in place for the first moment. She staunchly refused to name the emotion that kept her there for the second. Her muffled sound of surprise was quickly silenced and she even found her eyelashes fluttering shut as she leaned into his warm, solid weight. As his hands tugged her irresistibly closer, Blair even found herself responding in kind, opening her lips slightly, looking to deepen the kiss before he had made any such overtones. They were alive and they were alone, and Chuck's lips and fingers were eliciting emotions that moved beyond simple relief at not being dead. Her right hand began a slow, meandering investigation, following a winding path up his arm to curve around the back of his neck. She sighed happily as her body relaxed against him, only to have the sound of her own happiness puncture the oblivious bubble that had formed around them. She pulled herself away roughly, flushed and embarrassed.
"Bass!" Blair objected sharply, shoving him back with the palms of both her hands on his chest. "Behave yourself! I don't care what's going on... I'm not one of your sluts." She shook her head to one side, as if she could dash the pleasant fog of lust that had settled upon her. The list of why this was a bad idea was so lengthy as to be laughable. She had a boyfriend. Even if she didn't, Chuck was the least suitable person in her entire social group with whom to engage in romantic shenanigans. And beyond both of those inarguable facts was the dead body currently sprawled out on the floor and the likely presence of similar creatures outside.
"Let's just... get you cleaned up," she said awkwardly, not meeting his eyes. He was covered in blood, blood that had now transfered in places to her own evening gown. Silently, she moved a few feet away and turned on the faucet, happy to busy herself with a task.