Arms still laced around the nape of the young actor’s neck, a boyish grin was quick to present itself on the couturier’s features, lips lipstick clad and gaze piercing, captivated under the red light of the Moulin Rouge. It had been an act of boredom —- mostly; his hands left to run through thick curls all the while teenage curiosity thickened. The significant amount of alcohol lingering on the handsome stranger’s breath almost sickening, turning his little conquest into one all too easy feat.
Blaine’s tongue raced after the new flavor lingering on his lips. The anise of his drink mixed with lipstick and someone else was more intoxicating than the practically glowing green liquid coursing through his veins that landed him in a peculiar situation. Not that he was complaining. Not even slightly. After the music faded and the crowds dispersed, he’d found himself strewn out over a pile of discarded costumes behind a stage he had no idea he was still behind. A voice like an angel woke him up, gravity shifted as he was pulled upright with a groan. The prettiest pair of blue eyes met his and lured him into their depths so quickly that when their mouths crashed together after he felt like he’d spent an eternity staring into them silent and awestruck, Blaine hadn’t even let his own hazel eyes close. Then it was over and his heart was racing, breath in sharp clips that barely worked and his mind swimming from the nerve it’d taken him to just fall off the ledge of holding back…
Embarrassed laughter and an averted gaze later, Blaine stuttered, “S-Sorry. You’re right. I should,” in agreement. Before he made an even bigger fool of himself. If possible.
pianokeysandbowties 