The Voice of You
mcel143
Not the perfect you know. But still perfect. Previous Chapter Next Chapter Story
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The Voice of You: Not the perfect you know. But still perfect.


M - Words: 657 - Last Updated: Dec 29, 2012
Story: Closed - Chapters: 13/? - Created: Dec 26, 2012 - Updated: Dec 29, 2012
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Walking hand in hand laughing, returning back to their spot on the beautiful beach Kurt stopped.

"Blaine, before you sing me a song with your intoxicating vocal chords will you play in the sand with me?" Blaine's heart rolled in his stomach and happily obliged.

"Babe, I would want nothing more."  So they searched for a perfect spot to entertain themselves and found one near a waterfall. Everything smelled like mangos and seawater. They were out on the sand making sandcastles and sand angels. Blaine and he even dug a hole big enough they could sit in and make out.

They acted like five year olds on their first trip seeing the water. They were having so much fun that Kurt never wanted to leave. The sun was setting behind them and Blaine still owed him a song so Blaine took Kurt on his back and walked to the towels and blankets they had set that morning. Kurt had not remembered the morning much before they were lying on the sand but lazily laid his head on his boyfriend's shoulder.  Blaine carefully set him down next to him and grabbed his guitar.

"I learned your favorite song babe, just for you."

Hey Dad look at me

Think back and talk to me

Did I grow up according

To plan?

Do you think I'm wasting

My time doing things I

Wanna do?

But it hurts when you

Disapprove all along

 

And now I try hard to make it

I just want to make you proud

I'm never gonna be good

Enough for you

I can't pretend that

I'm alright

And you can't change me

 

'Cuz we lost it all

Nothing lasts forever

I'm sorry

I can't be Perfect

Now it's just too late

And we can't go back

I'm sorry

I can't be Perfect.

 

"Hey dollface, you said that was your favorite song."

"Yeah." Kurt was tired and his heart was breaking but he didn't know why."

"Why?" Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and waited for an answer.

"I uh.. I am not sure. It seems like I connect with that song but I have a good relationship with my father . So I have no idea, babe." Kurt was becoming sleepy so he scooted to Blaine and laid his head in his lap, looking up at him and Blaine was playing with his hair and kissing his forehead  noticed all the loose sand in it.

"Sing me another one, sexy." Kurt's eyes were tired and filled with lust.  

"Ok. I really like this one, it reminds me of you."

 

I was thinking about you

I drew a little picture

But some things you can't put on paper

Like it like shooting stars?

I write songs on guitar

Got more things to do than stare at a mirror

 

I know, I know, he's gotta be out there, out there

I know I know he's gotta be...

 

Maybe I'm wrong

Maybe I'm right

Maybe I just let you walk by

What can I say

Baby, I've known you all my life

Is he the one? Is it today?

Will I turn the corner

See my future in a beautiful face

Maybe.

 

He's anything but typical

A sweet surprise

No matter what, he's looking at the bright side

It's gonna be worth it

Cause that's what love is

I'll keep searching for my kind of perfect

I know, I know, he's gotta be out there, out there

I know, I know, he's gotta be...

Maybe I'm wrong

Maybe I'm right

Maybe I just let you walk by

What can I say

Maybe I've known you all my life

Is he the one? Is it today?

Will I turn the corner

See my future in a beautiful face

Maybe.

They say give it time

Give it time, and it will fall in line

But I keep wondering how and when

And why I haven't met you

But maybe I'm wrong

Maybe I'm right...

 

"I'm wrong babe. I have met you and you're my perfect. Baby face I love you so much." Kurt was falling asleep but before he fell asleep he faintly heard Blaine start singing "Teenage Dream" in such a quiet voice that his guitar almost drowned him out. That's all Kurt could hear now was the guitar playing but he was still peaceful and he fell asleep in total happiness. 

 


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