Generation of the Damned
albagrayheart
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Generation of the Damned: Chapter 2


M - Words: 916 - Last Updated: Dec 22, 2011
Story: Closed - Chapters: 4/? - Created: Dec 19, 2011 - Updated: Dec 22, 2011
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The sheer shock on Blaine's face was one of the first reasons I fell in love with him. ' What the hell do you think you're doing Dougman?' He had walked into the locker room so casually with his hands in his pockets, I hadn't noticed he'd been whistling when he'd walked in, but any sign of casual happiness that may have been on his face when he walked in, was cetainly gone now. Mark released his grip on me, and took a step back. ' What's it to ya Anderson?' I had seen Blaine around the school before but very rarely. I assumed it was the same reason he always had grease on his clothes, and his jeans were so worn away. He spent most of his time in shop class, fixing up the faulty engines that Mr. Frank put infront of him, and never failed to fix them properly. Blaine darted across the room, I could tell, as much as I didn't want to that he didn't stand infront of me to stop me getting another punch, but more to make sure Mark got a punch from him. It was evident from the moment that he stepped, or more like skipped, into the room, that there was tension between Blaine and Mark. I guess it was just the "greaser" and "jock" rivalry that so pleasantly haunted the halls of our school everyday. As serious as this situation was, I couldn't help but find it cute that Dougman was at least 6 foot,and Blaine was barely 5" 8. 'You wanna go, greaser?' shouted Mark, and while I backed up cowardly against the lockers again, Blaine never even blinked. I was very shocked to see that even though there was a noticeable height difference between the two boys infront of me, Mark had a certain look in his eyes- a bluffing look. ' Com'on, Dougman. We both know you're not gonna do anything to me. Even if this poor guy won't tell anyone, do you really think I'm gonna stand by and let you beat the shit out of me? As if you would, anyway' a chuckle escaped his mouth, but he made no effort to hide it.'You better watch your back, Anderson.' He grinned like a manic, ' You both better watch your back' He backed away then stormed out of the locker room, shooting me a look that would kill if it had been given for longer than two seconds.
Once he'd walked out Blaine turned around, I can imagine he would have looked so short next to me, I was only a little bit shorter than Dougman. The first words he spoke to me were 'Yeah, you're standing infront of my locker' I was still rather shocked at my "rescue", if you could call it that, so it took me a minute to gather what Blaine had said to me and actually move. 'Thank you?' it probably came out as more of a question, which would've explained the perplexed look on his face. 'Was that a question or a statement?' the look turned into a charming smile that made my heart beat fatser than it ever had before. 'Er, er, ur, statement' I could only imagine what the look on my face was, so when he answered with a look on his face that made me just want to up on him, my heart skipped a beat. 'You're welcome' He entered the combination into his locker, opened it then pulled out running shoes and a palin white t-shirt and put them on the bench I had been sitting on when the Doug-monster approached me, he stuck his hand out, and stepped towards me. My inhaler was still in my right hand, so once I'd switched it to my left hand and wiped my sweaty palm onto my running shorts, I also stuck my hand out and shook Blaines. His hands were warm and big, and as soon as our hands met, I could feel my cheeks blush and my hands go clammy again. 'I'm Blaine Anderson'. I wasn't saying anything, as much as I wanted to, the words just weren't coming out of my mouth. Say something, you idiot!, I thought in my head. Anything!. Finally, after what must've been an eternity, I managed to push out an introduction ' Hi, I'm Kurt', I realised when Blaine looked down and back up expectingly, that I was still shaking his hand. I pulled my hand from his quickly, my cheeks still on fire ' Kurt Hummel'. He smiled again, and it had the same effect on my insides as before. On more than just my stomach this time. 'Well, glad to be of service, Kurt Hummel' he grabbed his sneakers and white tee from the bench they were placed on and looked back up at me. 'I'll see you around' he saluted me, like a sailor, then walked off, with the same skip in his step as before, once he'd turned the corner of the locker room he started whistling again. Once I was sure he had walked out I put my back against the locker, his locker, and sunk to the floor. I could feel the childish grin had worked it's way back to my face, and my cheeks were no longer on fire. All hat remained in that locker room now with me was my silly grin and a heart beating at what seemed like a thousand times a minute.

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