Remind Me to Forget

Chapter 23

“I'll give you ten bucks for that.”

Blaine startles at the question and accompanying hand on his shoulder before running a hand across his eyes and leaning out of his locker. “What?”

“Your coffee,” Tina adds with a nod, “I was up too late taking math review exams.”

Blaine blinks, takes a moment to focus on Tina's comment rather than his nightmares from the night before. “Tina, it's already May; we passed the deadline for ACT submissions.” He offers a small smile, hopes the confusion in his voice doesn't upset his friend.

“I know that.” Tina's voice holds a note of annoyance, “But most schools have you take a math placement test; no way am I testing into algebra.”

Blaine wordlessly hands her his cup.

“You're the perfect gentleman.”

Blaine shakes his head before reaching back into his locker. “No problem, but I suggest you drink it fast. We only have a few minutes before the bell.”

“I can tell time, Blaine,” Tina replies with a grimace after lowering the cup, “but what is this?”  She carefully waves the cup, “It's certainly not coffee. Did you even put any sugar in it?”

Blaine ducks as he adds his books to his bag and closes his locker with a sigh. “That is espresso,” he adds, “and cream.”

There's a pause as Tina simply stares at the cup but moments later her eyes narrow, and she fixes Blaine with a slight glare. “You could have warned me.”

“You did ask for my drink,” Blaine adjusts his bag and turns, “but I'm not looking forward to being tardy, so I'll see you at lunch.

“Since when do you even get espresso?” Tina's shout carries down the hall, and Blaine winces when he sees half his classmates turn in response.

“I –” Blaine pauses, bites back the ‘I'm still having nightmares and the Elavil is making me groggy' and rephrases, “I like espresso.”

He hurries down the hall then, ignoring Tina yell of frustration as he goes.

Text message from Blaine:

If I'm late talking to you later it's because Tina's after me

Blaine pauses, his hand hovering over the ‘send' icon as he glances at the clock in the corner of the screen. He doesn't want to wake Kurt up – again his mind whispers, memories of his nightmare the night before (and the ensuing 3 AM phone call) returning to the forefront of his mind – but he'd promised Kurt he would stop ignoring things, that he'd treat Kurt like the partner he is.

He doesn't want to push Kurt away again, doesn't want a return of the hesitance that had shadowed their conversations after their argument. They'd finally resumed their regular conversations; he doesn't want to risk losing them again.

He releases a breath and hits ‘send' before he can change his mind.

With the nightmare still haunting his thoughts he needs a distraction before attempting class.

He needs Kurt.

He always needs Kurt, actually. But with almost six-hundred miles between them, texts will have to do.

Text message from Kurt:

Do I want to know what you did?

Text message from Blaine:

I gave her my coffee, when she asked…

Text message from Blaine:

Although it may have been espresso with cream, instead

Text message from Kurt:

Tina doesn't like espresso

A loud yell from the letterman-wearing group in front of him and Blaine's phone drops to the ground, the clatter unheard over the din of sound in the hall. Coach Sylvester rounds the corner moments later with a shout, causing the group to scatter.  He quickly kneels in the confusion, grabbing his phone and standing, heading back down the hallway and away from the group of overly loud classmates.

Text message from Kurt:

Although I'm glad you don't know her coffee order ;)

Text message from Kurt:

…don't judge me

Blaine smiles at Kurt's message, shaking his head slightly as he types out a reply.

Text message from Blaine:

You're still adorable

Text message from Blaine:

And I'd never judge you <3

He slips his phone back in his pocket before hurrying down the hall, makes it to the door of his classroom as the warning bell rings. He finds his seat, absently waving to his teacher before setting his bag down and hiding a yawn behind his hand.

He misses his espresso.

Artie rolls in then, and Blaine quickly gets his phone again, hoping Artie (and his other Glee friends) will take the hint and not immediately start talking about Nationals and other Glee related things. Sharing with Kurt was hard enough – he winces as he remembers the argument the day before – he doesn't have the energy to deal with a New Directions interrogation.

Text message from Kurt:

[photo] Where did they all come from?

Text message from Kurt:

The diner is never this full on Tuesday mornings. :( At least there's tips.

Blaine huffs a laugh at Kurt's predicament, hastily typing a reply before the bell rings; he's not in the mood to lose his phone, especially since he and Kurt have gotten back to texting each other random information about their days.

The hesitancy left from their argument is finally gone, and Blaine doesn't want to risk upsetting that balance by being unable to reply to Kurt until after school. The bell rings just as Artie turns to face him, and Blaine releases a breath of relief at his luck even as tendrils of guilt at avoiding his friend have him clenching his hand.

At the front of the room, the teacher offers a smile before happily holding up a stack of papers.

A reading quiz without his espresso. Blaine winces and rolls his pencil as the luck he had embraced thirty seconds earlier goes the way of his caffeine: to someone else.

He sends up a wish that it finds its way to Kurt.

*-*-*-*

Kurt hurriedly exits the diner, taking a deep breath of the New York air even as he winces at the smell of exhaust and various fumes. The air may not be as clear as it was in Lima, but after the hours of endless requests and the permeating small of grease and coffee it's a welcome change. The rush from earlier in the morning had lingered, and if Kurt had had to deal with one more person call him ‘Carl' or ‘Dude' his nametag would have ended up on someone's plate.

Or drink glass.

Really, it could have gone either way.

With one last glare to the diner – his tips had been sparse – he steps away from the building, pulling out his cell and headphones as he heads for the subway. Moments later he's humming to Keeping, appreciating the a cappella melody even if not the melancholy lyrics.

He's almost to the crosswalk when a burst of sound breaks through his headphones; when it happens again he turns to look over his shoulder.

And sees Dani waving madly from the door of the diner.

He raises his eyebrows at the display even as he hurries back the way he came, reshouldering his bag as he goes.

“This better not be because someone called in sick,” he states as he reaches her and lets his earbuds fall to his shoulders, “because I'm not going back in there – not unless you think Gunther's up for a lawsuit. Besides, I have class in an hour anyway.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who would yell from a doorway because we're short a waiter? Wait,” Kurt stifles a laugh as she narrows her eyes. “Don't answer that.”

“Okay,” Kurt draws out the word. “But I'm guessing the shouting and waving was because you did need something?”

“I did, actually.” Dani pauses long enough Kurt releases a breath of annoyance before losing his patience.

“And?”

“Rehearsal's at six, right?”

Kurt stares. “You yelled – I – you couldn't have texted?”

“Phone's dead,” Dani says with a smile, “I forgot to charge it last night; Santana came over and –”

“I don't want to know,” Kurt hurriedly interrupts, “but yes, rehearsal is still at six; just like we decided two days ago.”

“I was just –” Dani stops, turning back inside. ”Nevermind, I'm being summoned.” She flashes him a smile, “See you at six; I can't wait to run through Radioactive and dethrone Elliott with my guitar solo!”

She's gone before Kurt can think of a reply, the door softly closing behind her. Kurt waits for a moment, absently wondering where solo even was in the song. He shakes his head at the door and puts his headphones back in, quickening his step when a glance at his phone reminds him he has two minutes to get to the subway if he wants to make his intended train.

Text message from Kurt:

Remind me that the day can only improve?

Text message from Blaine:

I don't think there are any geriatric, hungry patrons at NYADA

Text message from Blaine:

And if there are, I'm sure they're talented?

Kurt can't contain the burst of laughter at the message, even as he marvels at Blaine's ability to make him smile.

Text message from Kurt:

You've described two of my professors

Text message from Kurt:

I'm going to lose signal though – getting on the subway so I can change at home before class

Text message from Blaine:

No waiter-chic at NYADA today?

Text message from Kurt:

You're still not funny

Text message from Blaine:

And yet you're still marrying me :D

Text message from Blaine:

And you pull off waiter-chic; I know you tailored your uniforms

Text message from Kurt:

No amount of tailoring makes up for the smell of bacon grease and spilt coffee

Text message from Kurt:

And you know I wouldn't wear my uniform to school, Blaine

Text message from Blaine:

No…you'll wear one of your amazing outfits and all the NYADA boys will be falling over you

Text message from Kurt:

[photo] Doubtful, but it doesn't matter – I'm happily taken :)

Text message from Blaine:

[photo] Love you!

Kurt pauses at the subway entrance, ignoring the bustle of people around him, takes a moment to appreciate the picture – Blaine blowing a kiss, ring proudly on display despite the background of McKinley High's hallway – and bask in knowledge that Blaine is his fiancé.

Text message from Kurt:

At the subway :(

Text message from Kurt:

Love you! <3

-*-*-*-

Blaine turns the key but stays in the driver's seat, lets Clocks continue to play while he relaxes, grateful to be done with his school day. He may have passed his reading quiz, but he's not sure he'll get the grade he would have preferred, and Sam and Tina had shot him questioning glances all day; Unique had luckily commanded attention at lunch by mentioning their final public, paid performance, which had – unsurprisingly because it's Glee – led to a lunch-long debate of whether anything should be changed due to their placement at Nationals.

Then, Blaine had stayed mostly silent, listening to the arguments from Sam and the others while remaining uncertain. He knew they'd done their best in Los Angeles, but they'd also still come in second; maybe they should make some changes, even after the fact.

He simply wasn't sure.

He hadn't been sure in therapy either. Dr. Schamp had asked about his time in California, how he felt about Nationals and what had happened after.

He hadn't had an answer. Not a clear one, at least.

Later, once he was back in Kurt's old room he'd wondered if Dr. Schamp had expected his complicated answer; he suspected she had, given how well she'd kept him talking, even leading the conversation back to how the events from Sadie Hawkins were still affecting him.

He hadn't cared for that topic – he still doesn't – but Dr. Schamp had been insistent, if kind, and he hadn't had another panic attack.

A blast from his speakers – Runaway has changed to Jump – breaks him from his thoughts, and he glances at the clock before quickly leaving his car, heading for the entrance.

Text message from Blaine:

[photo] See? The garage is fine

Text message from Kurt:

I never said it wasn't….

Text message from Kurt:

I've known most of the guys longer than I've known you, Blaine

Text message from Blaine:

Maybe, but you still asked me five times if I planned to go by the garage ;)

Text message from Kurt:

…five?

Blaine smiles at the text, mentally picturing Kurt's embarrassed half-smile and blush.

Text message from Blaine:

Don't worry – it was cute :)

Text message from Kurt:

I'm not sure if I should find that endearing or worrying

Text message from Blaine:

Can I vote?

Text message from Kurt:

No.

Text message from Kurt:

Don't you have cars to fix?

Blaine huffs a laugh as he types his reply, hurrying the last few steps before entering the garage.

Text message from Blaine:

Trying to get rid of me?

Text message from Kurt:

No…but Carole's expecting you for dinner, so you'd better start soon ;)

Text message from Blaine:

I see – this is all for Carole's benefit

Text message from Kurt:

You caught me <3

Text message from Blaine:

Love you! <3

Blaine keeps his phone in hand; he'll be changing in a moment, and he'd rather not risk dropping his phone on the concrete because it fell from a pocket.

After changing – and leaving his phone on Burt's desk for safekeeping – Blaine exits Burt's office and glances around the garage, taking in the gold Honda at the far end (distance makes it so he can't tell faces, but judging by the confused posture he's guessing it's Lou and Tom) and the red Ford Focus where Jim's just raised the hood. He notes the unaccompanied cars with a sigh, hoping he's not up for back-to-back oil changes. Still, it's a common scene, nothing noteworthy or special about it.

Except for the feeling that won't leave; unease settles on him like a worn blanket, and for the first time his Hummel Tire & Lube outfit feels uncomfortable.

It's the first time he's been in the garage without a Hummel.

Burt had been absent before, of course, but Kurt had always been nearby, looking far too put-together in his worn mechanic's clothes while organizing tools or considering an engine while humming Wicked.

“Blaine!”

He shakes away the memory at the call, puts on a smile as he crosses to meet Jim.

“Need some help?”

“If you want,” Jim nods to the car, “wasn't sure if you were comin' in today, but you can choose: I'm on this one – somethin's up with the electrics in it so I'm destined for running about three different tests; but those,” he gestures to a grey Civic and a white Taurus –

“You too good to look me in the eye?” There's pain in his side, growing even as the laughter fades.

He blinks and the darkness breaks in a rush of green and white –

“– so what'll it be: the new tires, oil changes, or helpin' me with these tests?”

Blaine takes a moment, blinks before replying.

“Um, if you don't mind I'll give you a hand; I want to know what's going on, too.”

Jim laughs and Blaine just manages to suppress his flinch when he claps a hand on his shoulder. “I certainly won't say no to the help.”

A smile and Blaine turns, moving to the car to look under the hood to see if he notices anything offhand.

Completely missing the slightly confused and worried glance the older man shoots him.

-*-*-*-

Kurt steps off the elevator and adjusts his bag, heading for the stacks. This close to finals – and Kurt has to stop thinking about the fact that they occur in two weeks – the library is full of harried students. He dodges a guy in a jarring 80s inspired jacket and turns up the volume of his music in an attempt to block the humming from the group of girls to his left.

This week it's papers and research and reading until his eyes hurt. His plan is to finish his essays early so he can spend next week practicing for his practical finals (Voice, Theatre, Dance). Still, a glance around the library has him wondering if his fellow students all had the same idea; he doesn't see one empty table.

He sighs and mentally changes his plan – he'll have to work at the loft – and pulls up his reminders on his phone to double check the list of authors he'd found.

And jolts when it vibrates in his hand, Blaine's smiling face filling the screen.

He glances around the floor; technically it's not required to be silent, but most people text rather than speak on the phone. He lets the call go to voicemail and taps out a reply, ignoring the quick spike of anxiety.

Text message from Kurt:

Sorry! I'm in the library. Everything okay?

Text message from Blaine:

No.

Before Kurt can fully succumb to the worry from the single word answer, his phone buzzes with another message.

Text message from Blaine:

[photo] You send me a collage of our relationship and I can't even hug you :(

Kurt feels the fear leave him as quickly as it came, replaced with a smile he knows is wide enough his eyes narrow.

Text message from Blaine:

I love it! But you didn't need to; you were right, on Thursday.

Kurt thinks back to the argument, to his shock at Blaine's anger, before pushing the thoughts away and focusing on the present. The argument was resolved, after all.

Text message from Kurt:

I'm glad you like it. And I sent it because I wanted to :)

Text message from Blaine:

You're the best! <3

Text message from Blaine:

And I know the feeling :) But finish whatever you're doing in the library so I can call you!

Text message from Kurt:

Bossy

Kurt shakes his head slightly and pulls up his app as intended, reviewing the authors' names before resuming his walk – quickening his step when his eyes start to water from the scent of too-much perfume – toward the stacks. The library truly is a wonderful assembly of information about theatre, but Kurt doesn't intend to spend hours he doesn't have looking through the entire section on Medieval Theatre.

All six rows of it.

He rolls his eyes at a group of students ‘studying' (only students distracted by the Internet had books that strategically placed) and huffs a laugh when he sees an annoying classmate from his Acting class asleep on a sofa, glasses askew. In the adjacent chair a girl bobs her head to music only she can hear while highlighting one of the books precariously resting on her lap.

He turns the corner then, entering the row with the books he needs. He breathes in the scent of old pages as he walks, finally stopping at the appropriate letters.

And groan.

Text message from Kurt:

[photo] The book I need is supposed to be here.

Text message from Kurt:

Either the catalogue lied or some idiot is lazy and/or doesn't know the alphabet

Text message from Blaine:

Check around? Maybe you'll get lucky

Text message from Blaine:

With the book, anyway ;)

Kurt can't keep in the burst of laughter at Blaine's message, even as he rolls his eyes at the ridiculous message.

Text message from Kurt:

I will never understand your sense of humor

Text message from Blaine:

:) At least I'm not predictable

Text message from Kurt:

Never!

Text message from Blaine:

<3

 Kurt lowers his phone, smiling even as he scans the shelves on the off-chance Blaine was right. The titles alone are enough that his feels the beginnings of a headache – must academics be so pretentious? – and while the smell of old pages had been relaxing, prolonged exposure is making him reconsider his stance. Plus someone recently in the aisle (probably the same person who took his book) had worn far too much cologne and Kurt pinches his nose is desperation.

Fifteen minutes later, on the opposite side of the aisle and four rows above where he had been looking, hands full with two new books that looked promising, he pauses.

Text message from Kurt:

[photo] Does this count as lazy or illiterate?

Kurt carefully lowers his bag to the ground, stuffing in all three of the books before rising, looking at Blaine's message as he goes.

Text message from Blaine:

Both? But at least you found it! :)

Text message from Blaine:

You deserve a reward!

Text message from Kurt:

I better get an ‘A' on this paper

Text message from Kurt:

I'll grab something on the way home ;)

Text message from Blaine

Cheesecake. Or chocolate. Coffee doesn't count as a reward; it's a necessity

Text message from Kurt:

I'll keep that in mind

Kurt keeps a tight grip on his phone while heading back for the elevator in a hurried walk. He hadn't counted on staying in the library so long, and now he has twenty minutes to make it back to the loft on time for rehearsal.

He's going to be late.

Santana will never let him live it down.

As he presses the button for the first floor, he eyes the four others in the elevator with him, suppressing a sigh when they all exit with him – and head for the circulation desk.

He sends Elliott a text letting him know he's running late and joins the queue, making the decision to take Blaine's idea and grab an iced mocha (and maybe a muffin) from the library's coffee shop on the way out because the extra ten minutes can't make a difference now.

At least there's caffeine in his future.

-*-*-*-

Blaine sits in Kurt's desk chair and stares at his Calculus book, the letters and numbers blurring in the glare from the desk lamp.  He has nine problems left and his brain feels scrambled.

He turns to look at his recently gifted collage instead, the small note tucked into the frame.

You'll always be my teenage dream. ~ Kurt

A soft knock on the door has him turning, and he smiles at the interruption as Carole steps into the room.

“Hey, Blaine. I know you're working on homework, but I just got a craving for some ice cream and was wondering if you wanted to go to Dairy Queen?”

“I never turn down ice cream,” Blaine replies, grabbing his phone and wallet before following Carole out of the room.

“It is a good idea, isn't it?” Carole laughs the question as they head down the stairs, “I feel like we're breaking the rules, too, but Burt isn't here, so it can't hurt him.”

Blaine laughs. “I suppose.”

“I can't tell you how many times I've craved a pineapple sundae and not gotten one out of solidarity. But,” Carole looks at him with a conspiratorial smile, “now I have a teenager to accompany me.”

Blaine hums in reply, following Carole out the front door and locking it as she heads for her car. Moments later she's backing out of the driveway, and Blaine sings along with the radio; only to stop abruptly when he catches her eye.

Oh no.

He'd forgotten.

He's not sure how, exactly, but he was happy – he had a surprise gift from Kurt and Carole and invited him for ice cream and –

“It's fine.” The comment carries across the small space of the car, audible over the soft sound from the speakers. “Really, Blaine. It's – it's nice. And you have a wonderful voice.”

“I –” He cuts off his own sentence, unsure of what he was planning to say.

“It was lovely, Blaine. Sometimes,” she pauses, and Blaine notes that her hands have tightened on the wheel, “sometimes it will be too much, but today…Today we're taking advantage of the beautiful weather and getting ice cream. That deserves at least one song, right?”

“…right.” Blaine knows his reply lacks conviction, but Carole smiles anyway.

She nods as a new song begins and Blaine takes it as his cue, closing his eyes and letting himself relax with the music.

He doesn't see Carole reach up and wipe at her eyes.

And he doesn't know of the phone call she'd gotten earlier, after he'd left the garage to head home for dinner; how Jim was just keepin' an eye out like Burt had asked, and things had been fine. Except for the two minutes where he'd seen Blaine go ghost-white and still, before he'd come back to himself, smiling and offering to help with a troublesome Focus.

“So,” Carole's voice carries over the music, “not bad for a Tuesday?”

“No,” Blaine smiles and turns to face her, “minus my reading quiz it's been a good day.”

“Not a fan of The Scarlet Letter?”

“Not a fan of quizzes,” Blaine laughs, “but I think I did okay.”

“I don't know anyone who's a fan of quizzes,” Carole replies with a wink, “but I'm sure you did fine.” Blaine ducks his head at her comment. “Quiz aside – I'm glad things are going well. You look,” she pauses and Blaine looks up, meeting her gaze before she returns her focus to the road, “You look better, less tired.”

“I am,” Blaine agrees, “I mean,” briefly he remembers lamenting the loss of his espresso, “I still have them – the nightmares, but it's not every night. Not like before, anyway.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Carole's voice is soft, matching her smile. “Now,” her smile turns sly as she turns into the parking lot, “are you going to join me in splurging on a sundae or are you going to be adventurous and try something new? And no,” she parks and preempts his reply, “you can't just get a milkshake; we're breaking the rules, my treat – take advantage of it.”

Blaine stares in stunned silence for a moment before letting out a small laugh and raising his hands in surrender.

He knows better than to start an argument he can't win.

-*-*-*-

Kurt greedily downs the glass of water, tired but pleased after their rehearsal; there had been a few hiccups (Dani and Elliott had both tried for a particularly troublesome solo and the resulting mash of chords hadn't been pleasing) but he's certain they'll be fine by their performance Thursday night.

“That went better than I thought it would. I was sure Santana was going to end me when I disagreed with her harmony.”

Elliott's comment is a welcome distraction from the sight of Dani and Santana across the room, and Kurt turns to him with a smile. “Me too.” He shrugs, “Maybe she's growing as a person.”

“Hm,” Elliott agrees around a sip of water, “Maybe she is. Anyway,” he leans forward to get a chip from the bowl in the middle of the table, “do you have any other thoughts for our set list?”

“It's a little late for changes, don't you think?”

“Maybe,” Elliott smiles, “but does that mean you have some?”

Kurt takes a moment to think back over their rehearsal; they have a good mix of songs, current top 40s along with some 80s power ballads and a few new mashups. Any audience member should recognize at least one of the songs.

“No, actually.”

“Awesome!” Kurt feels his eyebrows rise at Elliott's enthusiastic comment. “Sorry,” he continues, “I just thought it was an amazing practice, but I wanted to make sure you thought so, too.”

“Oh. Well, there's nothing to worry about – I'm sure we'll have hordes of fans after our performance.”

Elliott laughs before standing and reaching for his guitar case. “Sorry, but I have an early shift tomorrow I should head out if I want to actually get some sleep.”

“Are you leaving?” Dani's question carries across the loft and Kurt suppresses the urge to roll his eyes as Elliott repeats what he just said. Minutes later the door rolls shut and Kurt heads for him room as Dani and Santana return to the sofa.

He pushes the curtain aside and moves to drop his bag by his desk – in his tardiness to rehearsal he'd set it by the door and moved to start singing as soon as he'd arrived home – only to have it fall with a thump as he freezes.

“They arrived earlier.” Santana's voice carries from where she's standing by the curtain, and slowly Kurt takes his gaze away from the gorgeous bouquet on his desk to look at her. “I figured you act like some love-struck idiot,” she gestures to him, “and wouldn't be able to practice if you saw them first, so I put them in here.”

“What?”

“Damn, Hummel. If I'd known flowers made you lose the ability to speak I'd have sent you some years ago.”

Kurt narrows his eyes at her but he knows the effect is lost since he's still smiling.

He can't help it, really.

Blaine sent him flowers.

He pulls out his phone to call his impossible fiancé, only to laugh when he sees his messages from earlier. Blaine probably thought he was clever, his “I know the feeling” seemingly innocent and quickly pushed aside when Kurt had been focused in the library.

“Does this mean I can keep the note?”

Santana's comment breaks him from his revere and it takes a moment for him to make sense of the words.

“There was a note?” Kurt spins back to glance at the flowers – sees the empty card stand seconds later.

“Santana!”

“Your Hobbit is sickeningly romantic, Hummel. Really. I should spare you from the Hallmark sentiment.”

“Give me the note, Santana.” He sets down his phone and quickly crosses the room, stopping inches from his roommate.

“But this is so much more fun.”

Kurt suppresses the urge to scream. “Shouldn't you be getting back to your girlfriend?”

Santana huffs a breath but Kurt knows he's won and he barely resists the urge to tap his foot as she slowly pulls a slip of paper from her pocket.

“Please wait until I leave to read it. I'd rather not have to vomit because of your heart eyes.”

She's gone a second later, the curtain falling closed behind her.

Kurt makes it to his desk chair before looking at the note:

in the rain- / darkness, / the sunset / being sheathed i sit and / think of you

I'm sorry about Thursday; I always think of you first. Always.

                                                                                                All my love,

                                                                                                        Blaine

Kurt's smiling so wide he feels an ache in his cheeks, but he doesn't care. A glance at the time on his phone and he carefully moves the vase of flowers to the side before he turns on his computer; he needs to see his fiancé.

Text message from Kurt:

Why aren't you on Skype?

Text message from Blaine:

Sorry! I'm out with Carole

Text message from Blaine:

…was I supposed to be on Skype now?

Text message from Kurt:

Yes!

Kurt waits a moment before typing out another message; he does need to talk to Blaine, but he doesn't need Blaine thinking he's upset.

Text message from Kurt:

But only because I really want to talk with you :)

Text message from Blaine:

:) We're on our way back now…give me 15 minutes?

Text message from Kurt:

I'm counting the minutes

Text message from Blaine:

<3