kurt.
Kurt’s gaze lingered on the photos. He wasn’t surprised that Blaine kept them. It’s been a while since he saw them himself though. Kurt hadn’t really packed mementoes when he left home, and when he decided he was leaving with Oliver he felt a knot in his chest when he spotted pictures in his own room and opted to tuck them away while he paced about. Now he let out a small sigh and turned back to Blaine.
Kurt made a face and handed him the glass. “You could’ve waited until you had the water so you wouldn’t taste them like that.” Another glance around and Kurt couldn’t help it- he picked up the scattered bits of clothing, stacked neatly any books that weren’t open. “I don’t know what your recovery time is so I have you have some good sunglasses- we’re going out in a while.” Probably not until the afternoon. “I’m going to make breakfast but I am so done with being cooped up in one place.” He explained lightly. He started going outside periodically after the first three months, give or take a week, and by now he could go where he pleased so long as he told Oliver the general area just in case of distance being too much, but there had been limitations for so long he was having trouble sitting still. He knows it was for his safety – his and other’s – but he couldn’t help but be uncomfortable with some familiarities to that time.
Blaine tried so hard to keep as much of the blanket around his face that he could for as long as possible. Sitting up made that increasingly difficult. Opting for the semi-on-elbows and knees curly ball might’ve compromised what dignity he had but it proved that he hadn’t lost his bendy self on the months he stopped performing at least! “Tastes like chalk but I don’t care. Burned most of my tastebuds off last night.” And the covers stayed on enough that he was sort of resembling a one man blanket loaf which suited his needs just fine. Grateful for both, he lifted his hand and dipped down to meet the rim of the glass.
After Criss Angel-ing the entire contents while Kurt cleaned up his clothing trail–Blaine sat the empty glass on the nightstand and curled back up not really moving from his huddle because moving sort of definitely sucked. “Going out? Going out where,” he asked but it was clear that he was immediately interested in spending the day with Kurt. His voice brightened. Becoming less of a groan and more excitedly awake. Suffering through the sunshine would be worth it if he got to be near him. “Got the sunglasses, duh,” he teased trying to will away the spinning that wouldn’t quit. Food? Normally with this bad of a hangover? Food was the last thing he wanted–but Kurt’s cooking? There was no way he’d turn that down. God. How long had it been since he had it? Forever. “Oh, please, food. Yes. Your food. I don’t care where we’re going as long as the day starts there.” So said the hidden voice finally throwing off the covers to reveal its owner. Step One of getting out of bed? Done! All he had to do next was move!
pianokeysandbowties 