There was loud ringing in Kurt Hummel’s head on a particularly warm autumn morning. Waking up instantly, he rubbed his left eye and yawned, leaning over to turn off his alarm with his other hand. He blinked slowly and took in his surroundings, the light filtering through the venetian blinds onto soft cream carpet. He smiled to himself when he remembered he didn’t have classes today and tossed his blankets off to the side and stood up. He wiggled his toes slightly and stretched before turning to make his bed. He wondered what he was going today. Kurt walked towards the large closet and opened it with flourish. Placing his index finger on his bottom lip, he cocked his hip to the right slightly and took in his clothing options. Kurt carefully placed his white button-up, grey vest, and black skinny jeans on his impeccably made bed then walked to his bathroom to take a shower. Slipping his night clothes off of his slender body, he tentatively stepped inside the shower curtain. He let out a soft gasp as a jet of icy water assaulted his senses. He turned the handle further, placed his hands on the slick shower wall and dipped his head. Kurt closed his eyes and allowed the hot water to cascade down his back with a steady, lulling rhythm. He stood there for several minutes, wishing he could stay there with the hot water and the scent of his shampoo filling the air.
“I have to get ready to go home.” He told himself sternly, shaking his head and turning off the faucet. Blinking the water out of his eyes, he reached for his white towel, and dried off his body. He immediately began his daily skin care routine and hummed softly.
He did know that he had a lot of homework to do over this long weekend, but simply didn't care and assured himself that he would work on it once he got back. When he finished his routine he swiftly pulled on his clothes, relieved that he could finally wear something other than the offensive navy blue and red piped Dalton blazers. He was surprised when he heard a sharp knock at the door and hurriedly zipped up his black Marc Jacob boots to answer. When he opened the dark wooded door, he met the face of the Dean.
“Hello Kurt.” the dean said with a tight-lipped half smile.
“Hello.” Kurt returned, stepping back and opening his door wider to offer him inside his small apartment.
“I don’t have enough time for that, I’m afraid.” the dean states, wringing his hands as though he was under heavy stress. He noticed Kurt’s gaze at his hands and immediately stopped.
“What do you need?” Kurt asked, curious.
“Well, one of our students is returning from being suspended and we’re afraid he will cause a conflict within the student body.” The dean said as Kurt’s gaze settled on a black haired boy standing across the hall facing away from him. Kurt could tell from here that the boy used a large amount of hair gel.
“Who is it?” Kurt asked the dean politely.
“His name’s Blaine Anderson.” The dean said quietly as though the whole school could hear him. The boy turned around at the mention of his name and Kurt immediately looked over at him, meeting the gaze of the most gorgeous hazel eyes he had ever seen.�