Sebastian was already driving, when the next texts came through, siri spelling it out for him as he sighed. Figures Blaine would be a troublesome drunk. He’d caught a sliver of it before, but never got to truly experience it, before Kurt got in the way. “Still think you’re that bad, huh? We both know you’re not, killer. Stay put. The real bad here’s coming for you.” He dictated, back, as he stepped harder on the speed pedal. He didn’t want anything to happen to Blaine, ever, and specially not when he’d trusted Sebastian of all people to come fetch him and look out for him. Sebastian had every intention to see him safe and sound, tucked in bed, before the night was over.
He made it through the city, until he reached the more isolated part of town, where gay bars, and freaks like them, frequented. He tightened his shoulders. He hoped Blaine wasn’t walking around. He relaxed as soon as he approached the right block, and spotted a gelled head sat on a street bank. Thank the Devil, and Bacchus, and every power that protected drunkards, and bohemians.
He pulled over, drawing down the windows. “My… If this is where all hot schoolboys hide, I might just have to pop around more often.” He parked then got out, walking towards him. “Time to go, killer. Your smooth ride’s here.”
Walking until he figured he wasn’t sure where to go from here, Blaine flopped down on the edge of the pavement and dug his heels into the rocks, dirt and whatever else sort of treading he could get to keep his knees bent and his legs from falling. It wasn’t the most clean sort of place. Or comfortable. At least he wasn’t sitting just outside the club where people kept coming and going and asking him if he was okay. This would do for now. Until Sebastian got here.
Speaking of the Devil! Didn’t his phone go off a few steps ago? Oh! Yeah! Blaine fished it out of his pocket having to lift his hips up to reach it and stared until the screen blurred into one blurry image that a squint finally let him make out. Ha! Stay put! Like he was getting up any time soon. Nope! He didn’t bother texting back but promised Sebastian with a firm nod of his head that he’d stay put. The glowing bar sign was only less than twenty or so yards behind him, close enough. Sebastian would have to pass by anyway. Kicking at the dirt, he swayed to the right when the sound of a car stopping caught his attention long enough to drag it up from whatever rocks were underneath the sole of his shoe. Sebastian!
“Sebastian! Hi...” An easy, lopsided grin greeted the taller of the pair as he drew near. Blaine waved off the hot schoolboys comment with a roll of his eyes and a drawn out, “Nahhh. I think they’re still inside,” that was a jumble of tones and run-on words. Two attempts to get up had him flustered each time they failed until his hand reached up, fingers wriggling for help!
Okay, well, Dave hadn’t been expecting the conversation to take this turn. Not that he was complaining because he absolutely wasn’t. Dave liked the idea of being close to Blaine, he liked the idea of cuddling too so this was a win win in his books. He just had to hope that Blaine wouldn’t grow to hate it.
He knew that he was on the larger size of life and he knew that he might not be too comfortable to some people but he hoped that Blaine wouldn’t mind it. So he finally settled himself down next to Blaine and smiled, arm curling around his waist. “I can be the big spoon, if you want.” He preferred being the big spoon, he was tall so it made sense but it also meant he didn’t need to face the awkwardness of someones’ arm around his large tummy.
Blaine held his breath until he saw Dave stand. Was he pushing things? Expecting too much when Dave was only being kind? But just when he was sure it was about time to go find a shovel and dig a hole for himself to crawl into? A hesitant few seconds was all it took. Given his past several months? It was hard not to think the worst. Even though he was trying his best to let the part of himself that did that go? It’d resurfaced with a vengeance and he was getting there. Day by day as current company has been telling him since night one.
Dave climbed into the bed and began to scoot near. Blaine decided it was okay to breathe again. He even stole a moment to lean over Dave and press a soft kiss to his cheek before stretching back out, his back fit itself against Dave’s chest perfectly. There was warm and comfort to be found. Right here. “This time? That would be great. I can always return the favor another time. Don’t think I can’t big spoon the heck out of you because I totally can.” Reaching back, their fingers were quickly laced together again and he pulled Dave’s arm around his middle. The weight of the world seemed to melt off his shoulders and he sighed against the pillow. “Is this okay?”
Two drinks in and Blaine’s brain was already full of fuzz when someone at the bar thought it’d be hilarious to start a round of 7 Minutes In Heaven for the sparse crowd that was there on a Thursday. They all had nothing else better to do in town but belly up at Scandals and hope to drown out the boredom, get lucky, or be in a crowd where company, even if it was the drunken kind, was better than being alone. Blaine fell somewhere close to the being in a crowd was better than being alone category. Since, well, breaking up with Dave and subsequently seeing Kurt walking away with a man who made fun of the bowtie he’d proposed to Kurt wearing and, essentially, leaving him once again–alone.
He was just un-sober enough to figure why not as the tip bucket was passed around with pieces of napkin and paper with random mostly stranger’s names sloppily handwritten on them folded up inside. Hey, who knew? Maybe it’d, finally, someone else’s mouth might get the taste of Kurt’s lips out of his where it’s sat for nearly a week coming back to haunt him. Two seconds later, the masochistic part of his brain that never seemed to shut up lately had him regretting the idea. But it was too late and he had another whiskey sour in his hand, oblivious, to the fact that the person he’d come here to forget about was even in the building. Or how long he’d been watching.
“Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel,” the bartender yelled with an echo of cheers and howling.
Blaine’s mouth was hanging open when he jerked his head in the direction of the bartender who was already pouring someone else another drink. Hazel eyes were practically screamingyou’ve got to be kidding me! But the pale hand gripping the side of his arm and tugging his attention to the face close enough to his that now once he was tuned in, he could feel the warm caress of Kurt’s breath on his cheek said otherwise. “Kurt? How? I didn’t see you..”
“This is such a bad idea,” he mumbled as the door closed and the music faded to a muffled thud, thud, thud. All he could see was the outline of Kurt’s beautiful features and those bright, bright blue green eyes. Thud, thud, thud. No, that wasn’t the music. That was his heart hammering against his chest. Time stopped. He had no idea what happened in the next few seconds. What Kurt said or did or, hell, could’ve been fate doing him a favor by shifting Kurt’s magnetic poles back into alignment with his like they’d always been before.. Whatever it was? Blaine didn’t care.
Because the moment his shaking fingers were made steady by pressing themselves against the curve of Kurt’s collarbone would’ve been worth the potential disaster coming when he ignored every alarm, every flashback of nights spent in tears. How he didn’t know if he could do it again. That every time he told himself he’d be more guarded, one look from Kurt and the walls came tumbling down. Just like now. When their mouths met with the softness of an Hello, I’ve missed you they’d ached for but were only given a taste of outside Rachel’s. Hello, I’ve missed you, too. Come closer.. His heels lifted off the floor and he pulled Kurt downwards, tilted his head, breathed him in and parted their lips with a sigh. So much for shielding against the inevitable.
Moment after moment, Kurt fell deeper. The track of time had long since replaced him and he never fell back into the groove he’d clawed his way out of. At least that’s how it felt at the time, for a split second. The words had spilled out and he’d never been able to shove them back in his mouth, his own insecurities taking the wheel, foot heavy on the gas until they had him slamming against the wall of regret at a million miles per hour. The damage was done in seconds and it had seemed irreparable. Funny how when he finally had everything he’d ever wanted, it became a point of fear, second guessing. There were plenty of emotions running through him, humming under the surface, but all he could focus on was Blaine. Eyelashes resting against his cheeks as his soul poured over the piano, filling the room and sinking Kurt deeper and deeper. He’d regretted ending it, and yet he’d spent every day since then regretting doing just that. At the time it had felt right. He’d wanted to do anything to just get back to them or end the tension that was a suffocating noose that he couldn’t rid his neck of.
The noose would have been a comfort had he of known what it would be like without him, again. But if it weren’t for everything, chances are he wouldn’t have been out celebrating, wouldn’t have been here, having the first incredible day in years. Whether that persisted or not, well, time would tell, but all he could do was … Follow the drunken lead of his heart, or brain? Whoever was operating him at the moment, though it was really his feet that carried him in here. All it took for Kurt’s heart to lunge from his stomach up into his throat was Blaine’s eyes to find his, for him to finally look up
— voice cracking in surprise and recognition. The surprise was evident, clear as day on playwright’s face while his hand flipped around, falling from his lips in a dazed wave. Smooth. Kurt found himself nodding for a moment, before snapping out of the trance, reigning back the emotion and disbelief as best he could. There wasn’t a sliver of hatred (from what he could tell) present on Blaine’s features.
He had time to finish the song, and give his thanks
— to which Kurt clapped
— mostly on autopilot, mostly stuck in that same daze that had the moment slipping past and blurring all at once. He was trying desperately to take in as much of Blaine as he could, if only to memorize him before (if) he chose to disappear for good. But instead he was nodding to the back and Kurt was following as if a hook had been cast, caught in his shirt and tugging him through the crowd towards the exist on the ghost of Blaine’s heels. Truthfully, his mind had a million whirling at him all at once, demanding attention louder than the last that he couldn’t really process where to even begin in terms of a speech, a conversation starter
— as if he wasn’t a writer. In the business meetings it was easy to disconnect, take a breath and think WWCBD? Disconnect and write the moment,how it would look on paper, and project that confidence forth. It had done him well, but these were all people with little knowledge of him.
This was Blaine Anderson and he wasn’t so easily fooled. To even be dissecting the moment on this level as he pushed through the crowd, was too much, but it all silenced the moment he pushed through the exit door that had just closed after Blaine, and it was as if the world shut off for a second. The chatter of New York, broken down to honking horns and jovial yells or laughter of streets and blocks away, the jostle of manhole covers as tires rolled over them and the odd flutter of pigeon wings seemed both muted and immediately loud at once, only shoved away by the hinge of the door clattering shut as his feet hit the broken cement of the alleyway in Little Italy, rounding about to come face to face, one on one with Blaine.
Where did he begin? “I…
— that was beautif
— what are you
—?” Too much at once, and all of it sounded lame and had Kurt shaking his head apologetically, lips gaping in stilled disbelief, eyes glistening with the same emotion from before under the hanging lanterns from one of the tenants above. Kurt’s heart was pounding furiously and yet, it was the least distracting thing save for the blood it had pumped to every inch of his alabaster skin. “I’m sorry, it’s just really good to see you
—
“ and obviously he hadn’t been expecting it, “I was walking by and heard your voice and … I hadn’t thought it could be you
—
“ because the Universe seldom worked that way. “
—Wow, Blaine.” The alcohol curbed the embarrassment he would have had, and yet he was fully entranced, eyes locked on the other’s still
— though he had plenty of time to take him in, but that was before they were stood outside, facing one another in the startling silenceof New York, because it all fell away against him. “
— You . .. look
— er, sound
— you sound great.” I can’t believe it’s you was laced in every bit, mirroring back the surprise from earlier and yet, he was frozen, locked within the other’s presence as if Blaine had stilled quite literally everything but the heart that was about to leap out of his chest. “I didn’t think anyone could do Florence and the Machine justice
— but … You. Wow.” This wasn’t just about the music. No, not at all.
Through all of his disbelief, Kurt remained there. Not a ghost that disappeared the minute he realized he was staring too long at nothing. Because, even after all these years, after all the self-resolve he’d built up and the million hours spend telling himself how he’d react if they managed to run into one another in a city like New York filled with enough frenzied craziness that people who lived together barely saw one another? No amount for speeches or looks he gave himself in the mirror (in the beginning, he’d gone through some weird moments of coping, okay?) prepared him enough that they surfaced when it actually happened. On a night just like any other night for the past few years. With his sacred patterns and means of getting by that were an autopilot that became a lifestyle were thrown off with the barest look up and the barest glimpse into a set of eyes he’d often tell himself he couldn’t quite remember.
Tell that to the coffee cups in shades of green and blue that were his favorites. They were cheap. On sale. Part of an ocean collection at Target, see? Practical. Not for any other reason. Just like his blanket. Or how he often found himself bypassing navy and going for the color where the sky meets the grass on a sunny day in the middle of a suffocatingly hot Ohio Summer. Didn’t mean anything at all. Tastes change, right?
His wardrobe didn’t. But the things he surrounded himself might tug a certain heartstring he called style preference nowadays.
Now here they were. New York City pulsing around them. A blundering mess of noises that probably continued on past the blanket of silence he felt settling around them in the alleyway. His fingertips went like spiders legs, dancing near the sides of his thighs over the brownstone that stretched high above his head as he thunked the back of it against the roughness and stared at the patterns of it on the opposite side of the corridor. And he waited, staring up at the sway of a paper covered light threatening to bounce against the other one swinging so very close. Breathing in deep in spite of yesterday’s alcoholic trash a block away he’d become nose blind to. Mostly.. Cause you never get over the certain saucier nights when damn..is it garbage day tomorrow..? Thankfully that day was today. His throat felt like it was going to cave in. Breathing became difficult for a split second. The metal whine of the door swinging open stopped the increasing pressure in his windpipe. It threw him off the panic of thinking what he was going to do just in time for him to press his heel against the stone and give himself the momentum to stand up straight. His fingers brushed themselves off against his pants. By time Kurt came into view…?
Blaine’s smile was small but he meant it. His eyes softy glistening but there was a warm hello in them that everyone who knew him then and now would say was in his DNA. Regardless if he purposefully put it there or not. It was how he was wired. And he was too set in his ways for that to ever go away. In spite of who was on the receiving end. How long it lasted? That said more. The outburst from Kurt, his surprise and tongue twisted rambling made it grow and blossom. His teeth glinted white in the amber light. He knew Kurt. Knew that bouncy excitement made him unable to form complete sentences and nearly bounce off the walls. He remembered the days he was the reason for it. Bitterly at first. Then with a fondness that became a reason to chuckle when he saw something he knew would make the boy from his past lose his mind and got nostalgic. Turns out trying not to think of someone has them creep in in the strangest of ways. Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett Christmas Special, for example. What a night of remembering that was.
He, patiently, let Kurt work himself through it understanding that interrupting would hurt his his feelings or embarrass him for being caught so dangerously not composed. Was Kurt buzzed? He was! Wow. Okay. That was new. Blaine palmed over his mouth, scrunched a brow downwards and cocked his head to the side upon noticing that. But the look was gone and he was back to that non-judgmental smile once Kurt settled enough for him to get a word in edge wise. No his cheeks weren’t burning. No he wasn’t blushing at the compliments. Nah. “First? Thank you very much. I’m glad you enjoyed the music and passing your Florence critique has to rank up there with passing it by the queen herself.” It was small talk, something to soothe Kurt’s nerves because Blaine was still that person. To everyone. “How’d you end up here? By here–I mean.. Little Italy? What are you doing in my neck of the woods? It’s a pretty long shot from..” He pressed his lips together, held up a finger and motioned that Kurt didn’t have to answer that just yet.
Instead, he stepped forward and throwing caution to the wind.. Only hesitated one jerky motion before tucking himself against Kurt’s right side and giving him a lightly hug. “I mean. It’s good to see you. Really good to see you. You look good, too.” He stepped back but remained close leaving Kurt to be the one to let him go rather than pull out of his arms like it bothered him he was there. “How have you been? How are things? What have you been up to?” Cupping Kurt’s shoulders with a gentle squeeze, Blaine seemed to study him close. A connection made through unwavering eye contact and devoted attention that showed he really wanted to know the answer to his questions.
Because Blaine was watching so closely, he saw the Doctor look up; saw him scan the crowd; saw him reach, idly, for his coat, like he intended to move despite not having found the correct person yet. He paused only to toss the half-eaten blueberry muffin into a nearby bin (unimpressed with its quality – it really was a pity he’d missed out on the carrot cake) and then he exchanged words with a passing server (”Wherever you’re getting your muffins – tell them to try a squeeze of lemon, it’ll work better,”) and slipped into the seat opposite one Blaine Anderson, despite the fact that a second ago, the Doctor had still been looking for him. Easy enough to pick out. The Doctor would know the look of boy troubles anywhere, and the way Blaine followed him ‘round the room cinched the deal.
This was Not Ariel.
“Not Ariel,” the Doctor said, and reached across the table to offer him his hand (the Doctor really did like handshakes), “I’m the Doctor. Lovely to meet you. You give some bad advice on where to find things.” He’d got his cup of tea, though, and he set it down with his free hand, completely casual: “Tell you what though, I’m starting to think finding a place to eat is no piece of cake.”
Thoroughly convinced he had ruined any hope of a good first impression, he sat back, at last. If the TARDIS was going to be fussy, the Doctor could at least enjoy a good cuppa and some conversation. “I take it Dalton’s not a dog?”
Blaine felt his cheeks go pink as the Doctor started to approach the table. Closer. Closer still. He wasn’t being overly not-obvious with how he was watching him, was he? Busted. Guilty. He’d been found out. There was no mistaking he was about to get company judging by how the strange man using him as a human version of Yelp stopped at his table then suddenly filled the chair opposite of him. A polite smile was given in spite of how the redness in his cheeks began to seep up over the bridge of his nose.
Not Ariel. That was his name now. Not Ariel. Laughter bubbled out of him, easing his nerves and bumping the anxiety of being caught staring welled up. Looking at him this close? The Doctor seemed nice enough. Intriguing from conversation alone but the accent only added to the mystery. Which was hard to find in Lima, Ohio. Where everyone knew everyone and there was rarely a face you didn’t recognize as someone who knew someone. Even the strangers looked like they belonged her. This guy? Definitely didn’t.
They shook hands and Blaine’s eyes lit up with the delight of someone new and someone to talk to. “Lovely to meet you, too, Doctor. I’m sorry my advice wasn’t the greatest. There’s really not a lot of places to choose from here. Maybe I should have told you about the bakery down the street. It’s sort of the last place in town to try if you struck out here. The muffin didn’t seem that impressive to you.
“Uh no. Dalton’s a school. My old one.” A hint of nostalgia and longing crept into his voice. He swallowed his coffee to chase it away. “Boring story, really. And you already had a bad cake experience. I’d hate to ruin the conversation part. Um.. Please tell me cake isn’t the only reason why you’re here? As in. Ohio?”
( mssg » blaine | sent) I thought we were going to make it. ( mssg » blaine | sent) How is having sex with somebody else showing me I mattered? Was that supposed to make me feel special? ( mssg » blaine | sent) Not like it matters, but for transparency’s sake, Sebastian has made everything abundantly clear. I shouldn’t be surprised given everything, but it doesn’t hurt any less. Glad to know he’s finally having his shot at redemption. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Are you really asking me that question? ( mssg » blaine | sent) That’s exactly how I felt when you told me. I was standing right there. I didn’t want to be real anymore because nothing made sense. So no, literally erased, no. To feel erased? To feel like everything that’s ever mattered doesn’t any longer? To feel like this special life we’d been building boiled down to nothing because it wasn’t enough for you? Because you needed more? That wasn’t me? ( mssg » blaine | sent) What would you have to feel to consider erasing someone, Blaine? How many pieces would your heart have to be in to so much as consider it? I didn’t want to wake up. But I still did. ( mssg » blaine | sent) I don’t even know what I should or shouldn’t be saying to you because I’m so afraid you’re going to try that again. ( mssg » blaine | sent) I didn’t even know until weeks later. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Promise me you aren’t going to try that ever again. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Are you okay?
( mssg » kurt | sent) I did, too. ( mssg » kurt | sent) No. I didn’t mean what I said like that. I’m sorry. I regret every second. I wish I could take it back. I would. I can’t but I’d give anything for the chance to. Anything. ( mssg » kurt | sent) I did a very stupid thing. Beyond stupid and there isn’t a day that I don’t regret it. Even after this. It’s the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing before I go to bed. ( mssg » kurt | sent) I didn’t need more. I just needed you and I thought I didn’t have you anymore and that was all me. Everything was my fault. I did that. Thought the worst and then managed to do even worse. I ruined everything. I’ll tell Sebastian to stop whatever he is doing. ( mssg » kurt | sent) I wouldn’t erase anyone. It’s not an option. It wouldn’t have been one before this and knowing what it feels like? I wouldn’t do that to anyone. I couldn’t. It doesn’t make me better or worse than anyone who does. ( mssg » kurt | sent) Don’t mean to come off that way if I did. I just don’t think I could lose a part of myself for any reason. Nothing could hurt more than this..and I still couldn’t do it. ( mssg » kurt | sent) You can say anything you want. Would rather you get it out than hold it in.
( mssg » kurt | sent) I won’t.. ( mssg » kurt | sent) No. I’m not. But that’s for me to deal with.
Rules: answer the questions you’re given, write 11 of your own and tag 11 people.
Their questions.
01. Who was the first muse you’ve ever had? A nameless woman who murdered her husband to escape abuse. My teacher read it and I got questioned about my home life. That was fun trying to convince her I only wanted to write a good story and my Dad and I were fine.
02. How did you hear about roleplaying in general? Was it through a friend Or? A friend of mine played Dungeons and Dragons and told me about it. I thought it was kinda interesting but not my thing. Then through randomness I found roleplaying online and fell in love.
03. Do you have a favorite song? Band? Number one would be Coming Back To Life by Pink Floyd because it reminds me of things I overcame and what I’ve become after letting those things go. Included the link of the best performance ever and if you wanna experience some freaking good music? Click! Favorite band is The Cure.
04. Besides writing for fun what other hobbies do you have? Or do in your spare time when you’re not writing. I spend time with my dog. Oodles of it. I, also, ghost hunt and explore abandoned towns/places!
05. If you could go to any place in the world where would you go? And why. Toronto, Canada. If I could pick any reason? It’d be because I was moving there.
06. Do you have fears? Phobias? What are you scared of? I’m petrified of flying. Not like an Ooo that’s scary! sort of afraid. As in, if I think about going to an airport even if I am not getting on a plane, I get anxious. If I can drive and it takes less than DAYS, I’ll drive. If I am forced to fly, it’s nothing but hell from the second I know until it’s over. Two and a half xanax and more in my pocket if I wake up brand of petrified. It makes me sick imagining the feeling tbh.
07. Do you prefer physically holding a book and turning the pages? or you do like reading things electronically? Holding a book. That smell is the best smell ever, too.
08. Do you believe in the supernatural? Yep. Seen too much not to.
09. What sort of muse do you like to lean towards more? Canon or OC? And why. Either one equally. It depends on the qualities and aspects of the character. I’ve disliked my own characters (but wrote them anyway cause they were necessary) as much as I’ve disliked some canons and vice versa. LOL!
010. – 011. –
My questions.
01. Why did you choose your muse? When did you decide you wanted to begin writing for them? (multi’s pick one muse of your choosing! or all if you really want!) 02. What would be your ideal concert? And who would you go with if you could pick ANYONE but only one person? 03. If you had to pick one show to watch for the rest of your life..what would it be? Why? 04. If you had to pick one book to read for the rest of your life..which would it be. Why? 05. If you could have a conversation with anyone in history; who would it be? What would be your first question? 06. Do you believe in the supernatural? Why or why not? 07. Who would you want to play you if a movie was made based on you and your life? 08. What was the first thing that came to mind this morning when you woke up? 09. What’s your favorite season? Why do you love it so much? 10. If you were in The Purge, would you commit a crime knowing you could get away with it, join the resistance, or hide keeping you and your loved ones safe? 11. What has been your proudest moment in writing so far?
A new day, a new life. Blaine could barely sleep a wink the night before. Fresh from his second tour of the Academy and he could barely contain how excited and terrified he was. Excited for the fresh start. Terrified for reasons ranging from the standard will they like me to the notion that maybe nothing would change. That the promises and policies of the school his brother worked tirelessly towards getting him into mid-semester was full of it. That nothing would change because this was Ohio and how many open minds can you force to stay open by rules that were supposedly unbreakable? Hope won out in the end as he drifted off. And faith and trust in Cooper that things were going to be okay. Because Cooper promised.
The morning, however? Totally different story. His hands were shaking so bad that he couldn’t finish tying his tie. His brand new blazer hung from one hand as he stared up at Cooper who patiently cocked his head to the side and finished the job he couldn’t. Then gripped his shoulder and gently turned him around to face the mirror as he slid the jacket that would soon be the sign he was looking for to be able to heal again. Past the faint scab on his bottom lip and eyebrow that would be gone within a week. Just like the greenish blue mark underneath his eye. A far cry from how it looked in the beginning. Fading hues and reassuring squeezes to his shoulders. All symbols that everything was going to be okay. Like Cooper said.
‘You heard me, right? I wouldn’t be letting this happen if I thought it was going to turn out bad. You gotta trust me. This is gonna be beyond great. Beyond me levels of amazing. You can do this, Squirt. They’re going to love you.’
“Don’tcallmethat,” a mumble and he curled his fingers towards the pressed cuff edges of his sleeve, “What if I don’t fit in? What if they look at me and they think I’m a stereotypical rich kid problem child?” His brows shoved together and lifted above panicked hazel eyes, their colors darkened by anxiety and his voice wobbling.
‘You know that’s your favorite. Don’t roll your eyes. Okay, roll them. Made you smile. Caught you doing it. Just live in the moment, Blaine. How many times have I told you that if you worry too much about the future? You’re going to get forehead wrinkles? Then it’s botox by twenty-five and you’re never going back.’
Cooper’s wide-eyed omen warning was greeted with the first real laughter Blaine felt since the day before when his brother compared the group of boys singing in the gardens to ‘every boy band that ever existed in one ensemble only good’. Steadier fingers finished the last button on his jacket and he turned to face Cooper, stepping back and swinging his arms outwards, fingers fanned from one another.
“Well? What do you think?” His heart pounded in his ears.
‘I think you look ready. Are you?’
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
‘Good. Let’s get you to your first day. Dalton Academy?!” Cooper thumbed over his shoulder towards the exit of Blaine’s room before pressing his palms against one another and rubbing them together. “Here comes Blaine Anderson. Place isn’t even gonna know what hit it.’
The entire room was decked out in so much pink and red, he felt like he was stuck inside one of those ads for those love sex motels out in the Poconos. Yes, it was a Valentine’s Day but did they really have to make the entire place look like a kleenex box he decorated in fifth grade for his classmates to stuff cheap store bought cards into? Wow, his mood was sour. Blame it on his favorite holiday taking a swing back to GAP Attack status. Thank God the bartender behind the bar didn’t seem to care the slightest about how fake an i.d. looked judging by the glasses of wine he saw Santana and Quinn flashing earlier.
They inspired him to give his own try a go. Two glasses of merlot to nurse away smiling through his song on stage and he was just on the okay this is getting better side of a mood change thanks to the inspiration of the contents of his glass. And his newfound company that saddled up to the bar beside him. The crowd was starting to die out. Two by two, Blaine watched his friends disappearing towards the lobby of the hotel towards points rather obvious. Non-stop jokes and sardonic comments from Puck had him laughing at the latest and greatest. A nonchalantly spoken, ‘I’d totally fuck you,’ to his comment about how he and Puck were doomed to be the only ones gettingunlucky tonight and how unfair it truly was.
The chuckle died out on his tongue when he noticed that Puck was watching him, his eyes still lit up with his own half-laugh until neither one of them were laughing anymore. Their eyes met (because Blaine caught himself staring not at the twinkle he admired a beat ago but the way Puck’s mouth was curved–what was going on in Puck’s mind?)–he did not expect his stomach to feel like he’d just went over the rest of the world’s tallest rollercoaster. Free-falling and light as air. Just like the tone of his voice when he heard himself say..
“I..um.. I have a room..” Loop one put his heart in his throat. Yes, he just said that..
I would hug the hell out of Blaine. Oh my god. You might need a crowbar to pry me off.
how are you and your muse alike?
Oh boy. We’re different in so many ways. I guess we have the same passion in things we love and people we care about? We’ve made some serious screw ups along the way in life but learn from them. Sometimes it just takes us a couple times. We both love some of the same hobbies. We can be cheesy and nerdy and embarrassingly dorkish occasionally. He has a lot of the same internal doubts I have? And the same process of working through them. Or not. I guess those are the biggest similarities!
describe love
I think love is unique to each person you love. But! The ultimate definition for me? It’s that feeling you get inside where that other person becomes part you because they’ve made an impact that changes a little bit of your DNA to match theirs. Without them, whatever part they become inside of you, doesn’t work right. You’re willing to learn, forgive, compromise and find new grounds for both of you and just experience the world with that person in it and see from a perspective that’s yours, theirs, and one you share together. And grow and evolve and share this weird, unplanned, unpredictable thing called life. You learn how to live a little better, a little freer, and a little bit safer knowing someone is there who sees you for you (in all your strangeness) and that’s just all they want. For you to see them and for them to see you. And for the both of you to just be. Does that make sense?
pianokeysandbowties 