Aelora
April 21, 2012, 5:20 a.m.
Seasons May Change (Come What May): Chapter 4
E - Words: 5,288 - Last Updated: Apr 21, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 8/? - Created: Apr 19, 2012 - Updated: Apr 21, 2012 264 0 2 0 0
Author's Notes: Chapter Rating: PG
Had Blaine spent his summer taking courses at the local community college, he honestly could have been graduating come December. The discussion had actually taken place both with his parents, and with Kurt. In the end, the cons outweighed the pros, and both he and Kurt had acknowledged that the only reason they’d seriously discussed it was in order to be together that much sooner. It wasn’t necessary to kill himself with summer courses and sneaking in SAT’s and ACT’s when he could, just to try to get accepted into NYADA for the spring semester. His parents had point blanked asked him if this was just to be with his boyfriend, and Blaine had felt awful for lying and saying “no”, when actually the answer had been “yes”, and his guilt had been one more reason listed beneath the ever-growing column of cons.
The other reason, honestly, had been New Directions. From the moment Finn had passed the baton of captain to him for the upcoming school year, Blaine has struggled under a responsibility not only to the few members left in the group, but to Mr. Schuester as well. Like Coach Beiste losing her star players from the Titans, the star members of New Directions graduated en masse—the ones who built the club up from the ground, guiding it every painful step of the way toward victory last year at Nationals—leaving the club ridiculously barren and in need of rebuilding. Blaine couldn’t wrap his mind around abandoning them when it really wasn’t necessary, so abandoning New Directions had also ended up listed among the column of cons. (When he’d checked the list a few weeks later, he’d been amused to find those words scratched out, and Kurt’s somewhat sloppy handwriting had rewritten giving up on taking your place as rightful star among New Directions and leading them to another victory at Nationals.)
With very few credits actually needed this semester and next in order to graduate, Blaine fills one of his classes each week as TA to Mr. Schuester for his Spanish classes. Even though Blaine hasn’t taken a day of Spanish in his life, it works out because they both know he’s not actually there to grade papers—he’s there to work on glee club. It’s actually a perfect arrangement since it offers Blaine the opportunity to assist in choosing assignments each week, and steer his teacher away from his penchant for Easy Listening. While Blaine loves music from all eras, even he has grown a little tired of singing songs from a genre that disappeared along with feathered hair and Gloria Vanderbilt jeans.
Of course, first things first. Sectionals are two months away, and even with the win at Nationals, the glee club doesn’t exactly have students beating down its doors, begging to be a part of it all. They currently have a total of eight members—not bad considering how they’d started off the year before with half the club defecting to a new group. With six of the members left over from last year, plus Rose, who Brittany had coerced over from the Cheerios, and Aaron, a surprising addition who had approached Blaine his first day on the Titans, asking if they wouldn’t mind a not half-bad quarterback signing backup, they have a solid foundation. If they need to drag the band members into the group again, they will, but Blaine keeps coming back to the understanding that some of their strongest singers—Rachel, Kurt, Mercedes, Santana—are no longer with them. They can’t win Nationals again, or hell, even Regionals, with band members mouthing “watermelon” behind them.
“I know they haven’t been enormously successful in the past, but I keep coming back to a pep rally performance,” Blaine offers, tapping the end of his pen against his lips as he stares across the room at the white board where Mr. Schuester is writing out that afternoon’s assignment for Spanish II. “Something big, though, where the student body is really into it. Maybe… the Homecoming pep rally?”
Mr. Schuester pauses in his scribbles, sounding out the words of what he’s just written as if he isn’t entirely certain it’s correct, before nodding slightly as he finishes the sentence on the board. “Just no Britney, or you’ll have Sue setting off fire alarms.”
Blaine crosses Britney Spears off his list of music ideas, having had forgotten about that story. “We could gear up and start plastering the halls in flyers, maybe with photos from last year’s Nationals performance,” Blaine is writing quickly across the paper in front of him as the ideas come to him, “and we could always ask Figgins to pipe our performance into the cafeteria over lunch a couple of days.” He stops and looks up, frowning a little. “Although, that has the potential to end badly. While Azimio and Karofsky appear to be relics of the past around here, I can’t imagine Kurt and I singing Come What May over the speakers through the halls of McKinley wouldn’t end in a slushie bath for yours truly.” He crosses off Pipe Nationals performance over speakers.
“Speaking of Kurt, how’s he doing?” Mr. Schuester turns from the white board, apparently missing the way Blaine’s face falls at the question. “Has he taken New York by storm, yet?”
Blaine forces a smile to his face, tone far more light-hearted than he feels. “Oh, you know Kurt. It’s now a race to see whose name will be up in lights first—his or Rachel’s.”
“And soon you’ll be added to that race,” Schuester tells him with a smile as he rounds his, desk to lean against the front, crossing his arms over his chest as he regards Blaine for a moment. “The three of you there in the big city, sweeping the Tony's one day.”
Blaine flushes and shakes his head with a laugh. “I hardly think you can put me in the same category as them, Mr. Schue. They’re stars. I just,” he searches for the right words, “have fun. Don’t get me wrong, it’s what I want to do. It's what I love to do. But, I’m pretty content with the thought of paying my dues in chorus.”
Mr. Schuester is giving him one of those looks that Blaine has become rather familiar with over the last year or so. The one where the glee director is disappointed in what’s just been said; disappointed and thoughtful to the extent where Blaine grows uncomfortable with the intent stare and drops his eyes back to the paper in front of him to write out a few more ideas for glee club promotion.
“Blaine.” His teacher pauses until Blaine gives in and looks up at him. “You’re just as worthy of one day having your name up in lights as either of them, and in some ways, more so. While one couldn’t possibly deny Kurt’s talent and determination, the sad fact is that roles for him will always be slightly limited until someone like him forces a change. As for Rachel,” Schuester smiles with the fondness of a teacher who’s guided their student through some of their less-than-complimentary behavior, “you carry with you an almost crippling humility. It makes you likable. Makes people respond to you positively. Even if it also has a tendency to make you sell yourself short.”
“Was that a carefully placed short joke, Mr. Schue?” Blaine says with an uncomfortable laugh as he attempts to steer the conversation in another direction.
“Blaine—“
“I’ll present my ideas in glee next week, and maybe we can get to work on recruiting those last four members,” Blaine continues as he gets up, noting that the bell is going to ring in a few minutes anyway. “I still think the pep rally is a possibility, with the right song choice.”
Mr. Schuester is still eying him far too closely, like he’s trying to figure something about Blaine out. Blaine hates it when people try to read him. The only person who’s ever correctly learned to assess his moods and thoughts is Kurt, and it feels like a gaping wound every single time Kurt has ever peeled back another layer and discovered another part of him. Blaine had grown so comfortable during his time at Dalton hiding behind the blazer and the tie, looking like one of dozens of other boys, and if not for Kurt, he’d still be there, comfortable in his disguise. Kurt is still one of the few people in Blaine’s life that he feels entirely at ease with seeing the real Blaine Anderson--fears and faults and insecurities all wrapped up in a pretty bow--and it’s instinctual for Blaine to immediately slip behind his comfortable mask of geniality when someone starts to push.
“Blaine, is something wrong?”
So much for hiding it, but Blaine doesn’t want to stand there and discuss his relationship woes with his teacher. He doesn’t want to admit that his biggest fear of Kurt leaving him behind in Lima while he took off to New York has always been that in the end, Blaine wouldn’t be enough for Kurt. Not bright enough, not amazing enough, not ever capable of possessing that extra special sparkling something that Kurt has, and deserves to have in his partner. Admissions like that are followed up by platitudes that people like teachers and parents, and even close friends, are forced to offer up like “don’t talk like that”, “you’re far more special than you know”, and other things that Blaine has trouble accepting when his boyfriend thinks he’s childish, and not worth calling or texting or pretending he exists.
“Not at all, Mr. Schue.” Blaine smiles and tucks his notes into his binder, backing toward the door just as the bell sounds. “Just nervous because the cast list goes up today, I guess. Have a good weekend.”
“I feel like I’m gonna throw up,” Tina bemoans beside Blaine before dropping her forehead against his shoulder and whimpering.
They’re leaning against the row of lockers just down the hall and facing the bulletin board where Artie will be posting the cast list any moment now. Twice, Blaine has been tempted to just ignore it, pack up his things and head home for the weekend; wait for the inevitable text from Tina. She’d begged him to stay with her though, for moral support, and within minutes of securing their position in the hall, they’d been joined by Sugar, Rory, Rose and Brittany. The halls were steadily growing more deserted as the last classes of the day ended, and the small group received one or two odd looks from passing students until Rose began threatening them with physical violence if they kept staring so hard.
“What’s taking him so long?” Sugar asks as she leans her head on Blaine’s other shoulder with a loud sigh.
“Well, I can’t say it’s going to be the easiest show to cast,” Blaine replies. “Artie doesn’t know half the people who auditioned, and if it weren’t for Coach Beiste and Coach Sylvester convincing some of the athletes to audition, I’m not entirely certain he could fill out the cast at all.”
Coach Sylvester’s agreement to assist in gathering students to audition had been pleasantly surprising. Artie had told Blaine he was insane for even asking, but for as much as the majority of what came out of Sue Sylvester’s mouth continually confused the hell out of Blaine, she didn’t scare him the way she seemed to scare so many others. He’d just wandered into her office, smiled at her as she referred to him by a variety of nicknames that he found far more complimentary than insulting (he’s pretty certain the Muppet comparison was supposed to be an insult due to his eyebrows, but Blaine loved the Muppets, so he had no problem with it), and then point blank asked if she could help them get some students to the audition. Coach Sylvester had agreed, but on one condition: when she needed a favor in return, Blaine couldn’t say no. Blaine’s still mildly horrified as to when, and exactly what the favor may turn out to be, but at least he’d succeeded in providing plenty of students for Artie to fill out the cast for the musical.
“Oh! Here he comes!” Sugar exclaims, straightening to clutch to Blaine’s right arm even as Tina grabs his left.
They all grow silent as they watch Artie roll up to the bulletin board, a piece of paper on his lap. He glances over his shoulder at them, nodding once, a hint of amusement quickly replaced by a stern mask of professionalism as he grabs a lone tack from the board and reaches up, posting the list above him. Blaine winces as he feels Sugar’s nails digging into his arm; the entire group leans forward slightly as one, poised to race toward the board the moment Artie leaves. Their friend lingers though, for just a moment, pretending to glance over the other notices tacked around the list.
Rose sighs loudly and pushes away from the lockers. “Oh for god’s sake, let’s just get this over with already!” She announces, leading the group toward Artie as they peel away to follow her, one by one, Blaine and Tina lagging slightly behind the rest.
“Who’s Laverne?” Rose calls out as Artie pulls back from the group, pressing his fingers together beneath his chin as he watches them. She’s looking back at Blaine because he’s apparently the only one who knows anything about Guys and Dolls.
“She’s a friend of Adelaide,” he tells her. “Kind of a bitch. Hates Nathan.”
“Awesome.” Rose swings away from the board happily.
“Adelaide’s a good part, right?” Brittany glances over at him as Blaine hangs back while Tina fights her way through the small crowd toward the front.
“She’s one of the leads, Britt,” Blaine says, leaning up on the balls of his feet slightly to see over the heads in front of him. “She has a few dance numbers, too.”
Blaine’s gaze isn’t on the list so much as it’s on Tina as he watches her successfully make it up to the board, eyes widening as a smile beams across her face.
“Is that the cast list?”
Blaine looks over his shoulder to see Aaron walking up behind him, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a couple of the other football players milling behind him. “Yeah. Artie just—“
“I got Sarah!” Tina interrupts, throwing her arms around Blaine’s neck. “I’m playing Sergeant Sarah Brown! Oh, and you’re Sky, of course. As if any of us had a doubt.” She looks over at Aaron, pointing a finger at him. “And you, sir, are Nathan Detroit. Which I really thought Rory would get, but I suppose it makes sense.”
“Wait. Rory didn’t get Nathan?” Blaine asks confused as he glances toward Artie across the hall, then back toward the bulletin board where Rory is lingering, staring at the paper. “Did Rory--?”
“He’s playing Nicely Nicely,” Tina informs him, and Blaine finds himself nodding as Artie rolls his chair over to join them.
“He’ll also be taking the lines for Benny Southstreet,” Artie says. “It’s easier to combine the two roles. Rory’s voice is strong enough to carry the songs, while I think you and Aaron would be far more interesting contrasts in the main roles.”
Blaine and Aaron look at one another.
“A black Nathan Detroit and a gay Pinoy Sky Masterson,” Aaron says with a laugh as he claps Artie on the shoulder, moving around his chair. “Artie, my friend, I’m not sure if you’re a genius or totally out of your mind. See you guys next week.”
Blaine laughs.
“Why am I a general?”
Sugar stands with her hands on her hips, glaring down at Artie.
“General Cartwright is the leader of the Salvation Army,” Artie tells his girlfriend, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. “It’s a good role for you.”
“Oh. Well.” She smiles and preens before settling comfortably on his lap and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“When do rehearsals begin?” Tina asks, bouncing lightly on her feet as she takes hold of Blaine’s arm. “Oh, I can’t wait to call Mike!”
Blaine tunes out of the conversation as Artie begins discussing the rehearsal schedule with the small group. He knows that like last year, he and Coach Beiste had worked out the rehearsal and football schedules so that they won’t conflict with one another. Blaine’s looking forward to the busy schedule, if he’s perfectly honest with himself. With his schedule full, he’s left with less time to sit around and think about how he’d spent his afternoons last year, almost always in Kurt’s company, studying, hanging out at the North Hills mall, gazing at one another over coffee at the Lima Bean, taking every opportunity for privacy to further explore and memorize every inch of one another’s bodies.
“—to celebrate?”
Blinking, Blaine looks over at Tina, just catching that she was talking to him. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I asked if you want to head to the Lima Bean to grab some coffee to celebrate? It’s on me!”
“No. I mean,” he grabs the strap of his bag and drops his gaze to the floor, “I’m not very good company right now. I think I’d rather just go home.”
Tina offers him a sympathetic look. She leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. “He’ll call,” she whispers, and gives his arm a squeeze. “I know he will.”
Blaine wishes he could have her faith, but so far, nothing this week has worked out the way he’d been hoping.
A familiar Navigator is sitting parked in front of the Anderson home when Blaine turns the corner. He’s so shocked at the sight of it that he almost drives right past. It can’t possibly be Kurt because Kurt is in New York, and not scheduled to come back to Lima until the second weekend in October when he has four days off, and Rachel certainly couldn’t have responded to him earlier that day without telling him... could she? Oh god, it is Kurt because Blaine sees him through the window as he drives by and pulls into the driveway.
Putting his Camaro in park, Blaine just sits there, terrified of opening the door, of stepping out, because there can only be one reason Kurt is there, and he doesn’t want to hear it. He can’t hear it. For a moment, he wonders if maybe that’s the problem--he hasn’t told Kurt enough just how much his life revolves around him. How much Blaine doesn’t think he can live without him. How difficult just these few short weeks have been. Maybe if he’d said something, Kurt wouldn’t be here now, likely to collect the DVD’s and CD’s and clothes of Kurt’s that Blaine has scattered around his room. The over-sized Rick Owen’s black cashmere sweater that kind of looks ridiculous on Blaine, and comes down past his knees, but he still loves to wrap himself in it at night after homework, curling up on his bed to watch TV and just smell and feel his boyfriend all around him. The little notepad of Kurt’s that he’d carried with him his entire time at Dalton, and in between the drawings of Pavarotti and sketches of outfits are doodles of his name, and Kurt’s name, and hearts, and Kurt’s name with his hyphenated and I love Blaine and so many other things that when Blaine had accidentally found it last year, it had brought him to tears. He keeps it by his bedside, and flips through it sometimes, smiling because Kurt had waited for him, had thought he was worth waiting for.
Finally gathering enough courage to open his door, Blaine takes his time reaching in for his messenger bag, pretending like he’s looking for something. He hears the Navigator door close, and soon the sound of footfalls coming up behind him. Swallowing, Blaine takes a breath and hooks his bag over his shoulder before turning around, quietly closing his door behind him.
Kurt looks... tired. There are dark circles under his eyes--something he’s always very careful about not letting happen--and his skin isn’t quite as vibrant and glowing as Blaine is used to seeing. Worse still, he’s dressed in skinny jeans, motorcycle boots and Blaine’s Dalton sweatshirt.
Wait. His sweatshirt?
Blinking, Blaine meets Kurt’s gaze, a little confused but lifting his chin bravely. “If... if you drove all of the way here just to get y-your things, I c-could’ve mailed them to you.”
Kurt’s head moves slightly to the side and his brow furrows. He seems to catch Blaine’s meaning when his eyes widen slightly. “Blaine,” he begins softly--
And god, Blaine actually misses the simple sound of his voice--
“Do you want to break up?”
“No!” Blaine drops his head and takes a breath, realizing he probably just made a complete fool of himself answering that so quickly, so vehemently. His eyes sting as he feels tears gathering in them, and he tries so, so hard to hold them back. Kurt doesn’t need to see him crying over this. Not when he’s already accused him of behaving childishly.
“Blaine, look at me.”
For a moment, he resists, wishing that Kurt would just get this over with so Blaine could curl up in bed, in Kurt’s sweater, and try to get over the love he knows he’ll never actually get over. But then Kurt’s fingers are pressing against Blaine’s chin, bringing his head up, and Kurt’s right there, in his space, and Blaine’s missed him so much that having him so near is making it difficult to breathe. His chest aches and his throat is tight, and he sucks in a sharp breath as Kurt’s hands settle on his cheeks, cupping his face gently.
“I’m so sorry,” he begins softly. “I didn’t--I’m not sure what came over me. This has been so much more difficult than I thought, you know? I miss you so much that I have trouble not thinking about you. I have trouble concentrating, and even when I think I’m having fun, I’m really not because you’re not there with me. Every single day I worry that you’re going to forget about me, and sometimes... god, Blaine, sometimes I find myself regretting going to away, wondering if I should have stayed here in Ohio.” He drops his gaze, shaking his head just a bit. “Those thoughts terrify me because I don’t want to do something stupid... something I might blame you for later.”
Swallowing, Blaine looks away quickly, nodding just a little in response to Kurt’s words. This is it, he thinks. Kurt’s going to end it now because it’s not as easy as we thought it would be. It hurts too much, and Blaine gets that, but he can’t help but think it will hurt even worse knowing he and Kurt are no longer together. Blaine loves him too much, needs him too much to just... let him go.
“I... I understand,” he lies, refusing to look back at Kurt because he knows he won’t be able control his emotions.
“No, you don’t.” There’s a small note of amusement in Kurt’s tone, enough to bring Blaine’s gaze back to him. Kurt’s hands press slightly against his cheeks. “The reason I disappeared for a few days was because I thought, stupidly, that if I could just ignore you from time to time, it’d be easier to be away from you. But it wasn’t. It was torture. And the other night, when we got on Skype, I just... I guess I was expecting you to look and act as miserable as I felt. But you weren’t. You were your usual cheerful, wonderful self and I thought... “ Kurt sighs and shrugs. “I thought maybe you didn’t miss me as much as I missed you, and it upset me even more.”
Blaine’s eyes widen as Kurt explains, and he shakes his head wildly at the end. “I was terrified, Kurt. I thought maybe you decided you didn’t want to wait for me anymore or found someone else, and when you logged on, I was just so happy. I wanted to tell you how worried I was, but I didn’t want to annoy you, or burden you with my silly fears when you seemed to have so much going on with school.”
Kurt half-laughs and leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. “We were much, much better at this when there wasn’t six hundred miles between us.”
Blaine blinks back the moisture he still feels in his eyes as he gazes up at the ones staring down at him. “If you think we can’t do this--”
“No.” Kurt kisses him briefly, chaste, and it’s enough to cause Blaine to inhale deeply, and just want more as Kurt pulls back just a little. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. That’s not why I drove out here the moment I could--I would have been here yesterday but I had my first exam. I came as soon as I possibly could because I needed to see you, and I know we both needed this to talk face to face, not on Skype, not over the phone, but here, where we can hold each other and feel each other and I just--god, Blaine, I love you so much and I need you to remember that. We both need to remember that if we’re going to do this, okay?”
Blaine clings to him then, just wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist and holds on because Kurt has not driven over eight hours that day to say goodbye forever to him. Quite the contrary, he’s there to say that they are going to make it work, and to assure Blaine that he loves him, and that everything is going to be all right. He draws in a shaky breath and presses his face to Kurt’s shoulder, and his arms maybe tighten just a bit around Kurt’s waist until his boyfriend huffs out a laugh, pushing gently at Blaine’s shoulders.
“The last time I had this much trouble breathing, I was wearing a corset.”
“Sorry,” Blaine murmurs and pulls back a little, not enough to let go but to loosely loop his arms around Kurt’s waist. “It’s just, I thought--”
“I know.”
Kurt’s sucking on his bottom lip as he gazes at Blaine, and there’s something shining in his eyes, something he wants to say but either hasn’t put together the words or the courage to say it yet. So Blaine just waits, and holds him because he’s missed this--them just holding one another, looking at one another, sharing the same space, the same air. Blaine’s thumbs move in tiny circles against the back of his old sweatshirt, and he kind of loves that Kurt needed that, to wear something of Blaine’s just to have him close when they were both aching and uncertain. Blaine does it all the time; he knows he’s needy, he knows Kurt is vital to him. It’s just sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that maybe he’s a little bit vital to Kurt, too.
“There’s something--” Kurt begins and stops himself, brow furrowing in apparent annoyance. He gives a small shake of his head and brings his gaze back to Blaine’s, searching silently for a long moment, and Blaine can’t help but wonder what he’s looking for.
Honestly, he’s a little stunned by the look in Kurt’s eyes--it’s too intent, too filled with certainty and uncertainty, and a passion Blaine’s only glimpsed from him during competitions and Black Fridays. It scares Blaine, to see Kurt look at him like that because he knows that whatever it is Kurt is seeing inside of him, Blaine can’t possibly live up to ever.
Kurt shakes his head again and looks away for a moment before bringing his eyes back to Blaine’s. Reaching up, he cups Blaine’s face between his hands, staying silent for a long moment before saying quietly, “It isn’t easy, being there without you. Sometimes I want to reach for your hand as I’m walking down the street, but you’re not there to reach for. I’ll see a display in a store window and you’re the first person I want to talk to about it. Having Rachel there is nice because it means I’m not alone but she’s not you and--” Kurt breaks off, closing his eyes.
Taking in a sharp breath, Blaine’s hold on Kurt tightens. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I can’t be there. I should have taken night courses and tried--”
“No.” Kurt interrupts him with a brief, soft kiss. He’s smiling again when he opens his eyes. “We talked about that and this isn’t your fault. Things are how they are and,” Kurt shrugs, “we’re strong enough to deal with that. I get sad, and I know you do too, and I think maybe we just need to start focusing on the good things? Talk less about how much we miss each other and more about what we’re going to do over Fall break and Thanksgiving and Christmas.” Kurt slides his hands down Blaine’s arms, curling their fingers together as he pulls Blaine’s hands from his waist. “And I fully expect you to give me up-to-the-minute updates on Guys and Dolls. Rachel texted me that you got the part of Sky.”
Blaine laughs. “How--”
“Tina texted Mike who’s out with Rachel for coffee this afternoon.” Kurt rolls his eyes a little. “Even six hundred miles apart, news travels fast among friends. Congratulations, though. I agree with Artie. You’re going to make an amazing Sky.”
Blaine flushes at Kurt’s praise, and his fingers tighten in Kurt’s. “Thank you.” He glances toward his house, pleased for the moment that it looks empty, and that his boyfriend is here. “How long can you stay?”
“I’ll head back Sunday morning. My dad has no idea I’m here.” Kurt scrunches his nose up slightly at Blaine’s reproachful expression. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, he and Rachel are the ones who insisted I take the Navigator with me specifically so I can get back here when necessary. And this, in my opinion, was very necessary.”
Blaine cannot argue with that. He doesn’t want to imagine what it would have been like to have tried to get through this over the phone or Skype, not when just touching Kurt seems to ground him; when the scent of Kurt’s cologne and the flickering colors in his eyes as he smiles causes the vise around Blaine’s heart to ease. A conversation hundreds of miles apart would have left Blaine with questions, with far too many fears. Having Kurt there with him said everything to Blaine that words never could have.
“I’m glad you’re here, Kurt,” Blaine admits, drawing in a still shaky breath. “I just... I’m glad we’re okay.”
Smiling at his words, Kurt leans his forehead against Blaine’s, bringing their hands up between them, and pressing them over Blaine’s heart. “I told you before I’d never say goodbye, Blaine, and I meant it.”
Deep down, Blaine still wants to ask why Kurt didn’t offer him a single indication over the last few days that things would be okay. He doesn’t understand how Kurt could have willingly ignored how much that silence was hurting him. He knows that Kurt was hurting too, and he knows that when that happens, Kurt tends to shut down, and close people off. That’s what scares Blaine most, because while he may understand Kurt’s reasons for reacting to hurt the way he does, he knows the distance between them can only be made worse by shutting one another out.
“Kurt,” Blaine says quietly, pausing as Kurt leans back, eyes intent on Blaine as he listens. “Promise me you won’t shut me out again? Promise me that... I mean, if this is going to work, we have to talk to each other. No matter how much it hurts.”
Kurt’s silent for a long moment. His chest rises and falls as he draws in a deep breath and finally nods. “I promise.”
Blaine knows it won’t be easy. He trusts that Kurt will try because that’s all they really can do right now is trust and believe in one another enough to make this work.
End Notes: When I initially began this fic, chapters were broken up according to months, so this was actually the end of chapter one. Unfortunately, by that method, chapters were also coming out to 20K+ each. When I went back to break the fic up into smaller chapters, the difference between the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next is a bit jarring (since it begins a new month) where once it worked fine.I am hoping, once I get caught up to the point I want to be with the writing of this, to go back and fill in little holes through Kurt's POV. For now, my apologies for the time span between this chapter and the next at the moment...
Comments
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I'm glad that they worked things out. It's heartbreaking how Blaine expects the worst though.
I really love this story so far. It is interesting to read another take on what could have happened during Blaine's senior year. Your writing is very good, it is easy to read and has a good flow (yup, hard to explain using another word).