'Great personal dignity' or not, Chuck didn't bother to suppress a little snort when she almost tripped going into the elevator. It was always a treat to see Blair Waldorf making a misstep, although Chuck knew that the occurrence wasn't quite as rare as some might think. Years of watching her had made him keenly aware of what Blair considered to be mistakes (even if no normal, non-perfectionist human being would read them as such). He could predict, with almost startling accuracy, the twitches of of displeasure around her mouth, or the subtle downturn of her lashes. He'd never reveled in them, exactly, but he did consciously look for them, studying her reaction with no small degree of fascination.
The level of perfection for which Blair strove was originally uninteresting until he'd begun to notice these little flaws, the hairline cracks that betrayed her humanity. It always made him wonder why she tried so hard, if it was worth it.
"Old times?" Chuck scoffed as the elevator began its ascent to his presidential suite. "You mean, 'it almost feels like 12 hours ago?' Or are you talking about the prehistoric days of freshman year?"