March 18, 2012, 9:52 p.m.
Twisting the Teleidoscope: Chapter One
E - Words: 5,864 - Last Updated: Mar 18, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 5/? - Created: Jan 28, 2012 - Updated: Apr 13, 2022 419 0 1 0 0
A door slammed loudly from somewhere behind him. Blaine whirled around.
“Kurt?”
No one was there. Blaine quickened his pace as he continued to the choir room up ahead. Suddenly a strong sense of guilt gripped him, as if he was trespassing somewhere highly off limits. But that was silly. This was Dalton, this was his school. In the two years he attended he never once felt unwelcomed by anyone. So why did he have the feeling that this was the last place he should be?
When he reached the door at the end of the hallway he noticed the Warblers had stopped singing. The handle of the choir room slipped from his clammy hands, but after a hasty swipe over his blazer Blaine got a decent enough grasp to open the door. The only question was did he really want to? Why had the other side become so silent? Even in-between songs the Warblers were never this quiet. He didn’t hear Wes dishing out any announcements, or furniture being moved to make more performance space, or even Jeff snickering to himself like he always did in uncomfortable silences.
What were they doing in there?
Blaine drew in a short breath and opened the door. He was expecting to see everyone gazing up at him in a muted surprise, but to his disbelief he found the room completely empty.
Was he going crazy? Hadn’t he heard them practicing a moment ago? They couldn’t have vanished into thin air. Blaine jogged down the steps and searched the room frantically. He checked behind the leather sofas and under the tables, but no one was there. If they were pulling a prank on him it was the best one he had ever seen. The only way out of the choir room was through the door he just opened; there was no way they could have got passed without him seeing.
If the Warblers were gone that meant that Kurt had vanished too. His heart jolted violently. What was going on?
Something moved by the window in the far corner of the room. At first he assumed it was a shadow from a bird flying past the window, but as he approached he saw it again. Something brown had fallen from the ceiling. Blaine squinted and kneeled down in front of the windowpane. A small piece of wood rested on the rug. Curious, he picked it up and turned it over in his grasp. It was warm.
Another chunk of wood thumped lightly onto the floor beside him. Blaine furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed the new piece. This one was warmer than the first. Almost as soon as he picked it up another chunk fell, and then another. Blaine frowned and looked up at the ceiling.
“What the hell?” he whispered, standing slowly.
A small crack stared back at him. It began at the floor near the window and ran up the corner of the walls and onto the ceiling. But it wasn’t the crack itself that caught Blaine off guard, it was that the crack was still forming. With a high pitched whine the dark line jumped a little further into the room, shaking down small splinters of wood and drywall. Blaine backed away carefully, keeping his eye on the fracture. With each step he took the walls groaned louder and the crack became thicker, extending just as far into the room as Blaine was standing.
It was following him.
He sprinted for the door. An earsplitting shriek emitted from within the crack. Hunks of debris large enough to squash him flat hurdled down around him as the room fell apart. The door was just a few feet in front of him. If he could get out of this room he might have a chance to make it to the emergency exit in the hallway.
The floor shuddered violently as he ran. Furniture whipped into his path. To his left books sprang from the wall and hurtled across the room. He threw his hands over his head as he ran in a feeble attempt to protect himself, but just as he reached the tiny set of stairs at the door something heavy collided with his shoulder, throwing him onto his back.
The crack bellowed ominously above, and even though his eyes were squeezed shut in pain Blaine knew that it had caught up with him. He cried out desperately for someone, anyone, to save him. A chandelier crashed down on his legs, pinning his body. Frantically Blaine opened his eyes and saw that the entire ceiling was now consumed by the void.
He didn’t know what he expected to see inside the crack; pipes, insulation, the under workings of the floor above, but all he saw was red. A thick, warm red that was now showering down as the room crumbled around him. The color filled the remains of the choir room quickly, and before he knew what was happening he found himself gasping for air. If he didn’t get up he was going to drown in the red. Blaine screamed louder than he ever thought possible. Try as he might the chandelier wouldn’t budge. The color filled the room like a tub, its warmth puddling around his mangled body. Blaine couldn’t move. All he could do was scream at the void above him, and the void screamed back. He shrieked as the warmth of the red invaded his ears and climbed up his face. Soon it oozed into his mouth, muffling his cries. It was so thick and warm and had such a coppery taste.
It’s blood.
Blaine gave one last horrified cry.
The walls were bleeding, and he was drowning in it.
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Grey clouds hung low to the ground threatening rain or snow, neither of which would have been a surprise to the shoppers that bustled through the streets below. It was a typical Saturday during late November in Lima. This time of year brought swarms of people to the shopping district with promises of early sales and affordable Christmas decorations, a strong enough motivator to brave the brisk Ohio weather.
The couple shoved their way through the sea of shoppers, hands locked firmly so they wouldn’t lose each other. After one too many snags between other people’s bodies Blaine settled on lifting his shopping bags high above his head to keep from losing them. Kurt, on the other hand, was carrying so many bags that he barely managed to keep them from dragging on ground.
“Are we there yet?” Kurt yelled over the roar of the crowd.
“Just about,” Blaine called back. “Do you need me to carry some of that for you?”
Kurt winced as they heaved themselves between a pack of burly men blocking the sidewalk, his bags swinging harshly into their calves. One of the men scolded, but Kurt was propelled so quickly past him by the flow of the crowd that he wasn’t able to apologize.
“No, I just need to readjust my hold.”
Blaine walked on tip toe for a moment to get a better look over the crowd.
“There’s a clearing to the left just ahead, think you can make it?”
A pack of kids pushed past the couple, each seeming to take special care to trample over Kurt’s fancy new boots.
“I’ve made it this far,” he grumbled.
After a great deal of stopping and shoving, Blaine gently yanked his boyfriend into a small clearing under the awning of a shop.
“Here, put those down for a second,” he cooed, setting his own bags onto the pavement. He helped Kurt untangle his forearm from the mass of plastic handles and strings and moved the shopping bags deeper under the awning so they wouldn’t get trampled by the crowd. Kurt grasped his newly freed wrist and flexed his hand slowly. His knuckles were bone white and his fingers throbbed in pain.
“What happened to a little light shopping?” Blaine teased, taking Kurt’s hand in his and massaging it gently.
“What happened to not letting me within a hundred feet Nordstrom?”
“Hey you were the one who pointed out the sign for the scarf sale.”
“Only because you let me wander close enough to read it. One hundred feet, Blaine.”
Blaine smiled and kissed Kurt’s fingers. “In my defense, that sign was huge. I’ve seen smaller billboards than that sign.”
“Yeah,” Kurt grinned, “But scarves are kind of a big deal, so it’s excusable.”
“It’s only excusable if you let me carry some of that stuff for you.”
Kurt nodded his head. “Think we can rest for a minute first?”
Blaine scanned the street. Even if there were any open benches they would be impossible to reach through the crowd. Just as he turned back to face Kurt his eye caught a small wooden sign outside the awning they were standing under.
Milton’s Antiques and Treasures
Blaine read the words aloud. “Let’s go inside.”
Kurt narrowed his eyes and scanned the glass window behind him. “And risk leaving smelling of old people and furniture polish?”
“You’ll be fine,” Blaine laughed, “And who knows, they might have a really nice Victorian bedroom set or something. We’ll go in just long enough to warm up and let the crowd thin out a little and then we’ll head back to your place.”
With a smug smile Kurt gathered his bags and opened the door.
“You had me at Victorian.”
---------------
The old lady at the front desk was kind enough to let them set their shopping bags up front with her while they looked around, which ended up being much longer than they intended. Containing mostly a bunch of old knickknacks and paintings, Blaine was more enthusiastic about the shop than Kurt was, but Kurt couldn’t say he wasn’t just a little captivated by it all. They walked around the half-hazardly constructed aisles slowly, cracking jokes and admiring the odds and ends. After a while Blaine came across a polo book from the thirties, which he instantly absorbed himself in, leaving Kurt to wander the store alone.
Without his boyfriend rambling in his ear over the history of everything they came across and gushing over the likelihood of this or that being found in Ohio of all places, Kurt found himself less captivated by the commodities and more fascinated by how everything looked like it was painted in a permanent layer of dust.
After fifteen minutes of trying to maintain his interest in the shop Kurt began wishing Blaine would put down the book and join him, but the odds of that happening soon were slim, so he decided to look for a place to sit down.
Figuring the front of the store was only reserved for the trinkets and gaudy jewelry Kurt made his way to the back, which he discovered was a bit more appealing. There were dressers with attractive curves, porcelain tea sets displayed in curio cabinets, and a vast variety of Oakwood tables. The furthest wall was lined with Grandfather clocks and mirrors, all of which he could imagine Carol falling in love with. And there in the corner surrounded by hanging lamps and sewing mannequins, sat the most beautiful vanity Kurt had ever seen. Edwardian, mahogany, curves that put Marilyn Monroe to shame, and bigger than the size of his bathroom -with an even bigger price tag he was sure- Kurt was convinced it was made specifically for him and him alone. He held his breath and sat on the stool. There wasn’t a sign urging him not to sit there but he felt a little guilty all the same, like he was sitting on something that belonged to a museum. Gingerly he ran his fingers over its polished surface and carefully played with the drawers, imagining where he would put his products if it were his. As he immersed himself in all the possibilities Blaine snuck up behind him and draped himself around his shoulders. Kurt jumped.
“Don’t scare me like that.”
Blaine chucked in his ear and held out a rectangular black box.
“I know you’ve been melancholy. I don’t pretend to know why,” he said in a nasally accent.
Kurt bit back a grin and watched Blaine through the mirror.
“I intended to save this until the engagement gala next week,” Blaine emphasized each word with ample face expressions, “But I thought, tonight.”
He opened the black box in front of Kurt, revealing a hideous pearl necklace. The chain was tarnished and the tacky blue paint on the beads was badly chipped. Pearls were missing in odd places and the whole thing looked like it was the sole survivor of some nuclear attack on an old lady’s house.
“Good gracious!” Kurt gasped dramatically, clutching his hand to his chest.
“Think of this as a reminder of my feelings for you.” Blaine held up the necklace and placed it around Kurt’s neck. Kurt grimaced at the image of it in the mirror but kept up the charade nonetheless. He liked it when Blaine was playful.
“Is it a-”
“Diamond? Of course not.” Blaine snorted, “It’s pearl. Twenty six pearls to be exact. Although I suspect it used to have thirty before some dog got a hold of it.”
“It’s overwhelming.” Kurt sighed, mocking his face in awe.
“Well it’s for old people,” Blaine rolled his eyes buoyantly. “We’re not old people, Kurt.”
Kurt chucked and examined their reflections in the vanity mirror. Blaine gazed back at him with a smile and rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder. They stared at each other for a while, eyes sparkling from the dim light of the lamps above and the admiration they shared for one another. Kurt watched Blaine’s toothy smile fade into a small grin, his eyes –bright as ever- glanced slowly over Kurt’s reflection. The profound lines of laughter on his face smoothed away as Blaine gazed steadily at him, loosing himself in his boyfriend’s features. Kurt knew this look. It was the same one that came over his face after they made love. He felt the blush rise in his cheeks. Blaine didn’t voice that he loved Kurt all the time like some couples do, but he didn’t have to. What were three meager words compared to this look of marvel and adoration?
“You know there’s nothing I couldn’t give you,” Blaine whispered.
Kurt closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the moment. The warmth of Blaine’s breath felt so good on his ear. Blaine pressed his lips lightly on Kurt’s neck, rising goose bumps from his skin. No matter how many times he kissed him Kurt didn’t think he’d ever get used to the softness of his lips. Dreamily Kurt found himself thinking he would give anything to sit like this forever. Just the two of them taking shelter from the cold and chaos of the world, Blaine nuzzled close whispering sweet nothings into his ear.
Blaine took Kurt’s chin and turned it to his. “There’s nothing I’d ever deny you,” he breathed, closing the space between their lips.
A warm wave of static pulsed through Kurt’s body. God he wanted him. Right here, right now, damn anyone who saw. Kurt moaned and reached his hand around Blaine’s head, pulling him in. A small whimper echoed in Blaine’s throat, throwing Kurt into overdrive. He dipped his tongue into Blaine’s mouth with urgency.
Sensing his boyfriend’s eagerness Blaine broke away quickly and smiled, “Except this god awful necklace.”
Kurt’s eyes fluttered open. “And a proper kiss,” he whined as Blaine stood.
Blaine scrunched his face playfully and kissed Kurt on the cheek. “Just wait until we get home.”
Blaine released the clasp on the necklace and placed it back in the box.
“It really is hideous,” Kurt said.
“One man’s trash,” Blaine tisked, “I’m going to put this back.”
The butterflies in Kurt’s stomach still lingered after Blaine left. He should have known better than to think Blaine would attempt any serious public displays of affection with him. Holding hands and sneaking small kisses at the movies never bothered him, but making out was strictly off-limits. Blaine always excused it as being improper, but Kurt knew better.
With a heavy sigh he left the vanity and continued browsing. A chaise lounge on the other side of the store caught his eye next. He perched himself lightly on it, taking in the silky fabric and fine detail. The pattern would be a great accent to the color of his walls. A price tag was taped to the arm but Kurt decided he didn’t want to know how much it cost. If it was reasonable enough he might just buy it.
Blaine bounded from around the hastily put together aisle and stopped mid-step when he saw Kurt on the chaise. A crafty grin spread across his face.
“Too bad I left my sketch book and charcoal in the car.”
Kurt glared at his boyfriend and patted the space next to him. “I think that’s enough Titanic references for the day.”
“You can never have too many Titanic references.” Blaine sat down and nudged Kurt playfully with his shoulder.
Kurt rolled his eyes. Before he could retort he noticed Blaine was holding something.
“What’s that?”
Blaine smiled warmly and held up a brass tube. As far as Kurt was concerned it could have been scrap metal from his dad’s tire shop, but Blaine looked at it as if it was a piece of treasure.
“It’s a teleidoscope,” he said fondly, turning the brass cylinder in his hand. “I used to love playing with these things when I was a kid.”
Kurt cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean kaleidoscope?”
“No, I mean a teleidoscope, with a T. Take it.”
“What’s the difference?” Kurt took the teleidoscope and examined it. On one end was a small eyepiece and on the other a clear bubble of glass. He held it up to his face and peeked through the hole.
“Kaleidoscopes are typically made with beads or oil, so when you look through them you see a pallet of color. Teleidoscopes, on the other hand, have a glass marble at the end that you can see through. That way you can look at me, for example,” Blaine turned the teleidoscope in his direction, “and make designs out of my face.”
Hundreds of Blaines smiled at Kurt through the lens in varying angles. He grinned at the sight and moved closer to Blaine’s face. Normally Blaine’s eyes took his breath away when there were only two of them, but now there were thousands. Thousands of hazel gems glittering in his eye.
“It’s beautiful.”
“You know what the best part is? Just when you think you’ve found the perfect pattern, one little twist makes it even better.”
Blaine turned the tube in Kurt’s hand. The color of his irises exploded into gold and green fireworks, completely drowning out his pupils. Kurt smiled as Blaine continued to rotate the teleidoscope, skewing and blending his eyes into gorgeous motifs. Blaine watched Kurt’s face carefully as he did so, absorbing every small flash of delight and awe. They sat silently for a while, save small giggles from Kurt, each lost in the beauty of the other.
When Blaine twisted the tube one last time the warm colors of his irises suddenly eroded into a sea of black and red.
Kurt took in a sharp breath and jumped back.
“You okay?” Blaine asked, setting down the teleidoscope.
“I-I’m fine. Your pupils just caught me off guard that time.”
“I guess a twist can also change it for the worse.” Blaine shrugged.
“I guess,” Kurt muttered, but he wasn’t so sure. He examined his boyfriend’s eyes carefully. The black of Blaine’s pupils wasn’t like the black he just saw. That shade had been deeper, more menacing. And where had the splashes of red come from? There was nothing red about his eyes. Blaine wasn’t even wearing red today so it couldn’t have been a trick of the mirrors. Kurt spared the toy a hesitant glance before getting up from the lounge and offering Blaine his hand.
“We should get going, it’s late.”
--------
The crowd had thinned out enough that the couple could walk side-by-side without fear of losing each other, but they held hands anyway. Blaine carried most of Kurt’s shopping bags for him so Kurt could put his free hand in his coat pocket to keep warm, which Kurt was more than thankful for; it was freezing outside.
As they made their way back to Blaine’s SUV Kurt noticed a cluster of jocks from McKinley smoking outside the theater a few blocks ahead. He tightened his grip on Blaine’s hand.
“What’s the quickest way to the car again?”
“The way we’re heading, why?”
Blaine noticed the look of concern on Kurt’s face and followed his gaze to the theater.
“Do you know those guys?”
“They go to my school,” Kurt muttered.
Blaine stopped walking. He wasn’t stupid. Most of Kurt’s problems came from the jocks at his high school, and even from this distance he could make out the letterman jackets.
“We could find another way to go if you don’t want to walk past them.”
Kurt took a deep breath in through his nose and readjusted his grip on Blaine’s hand.
“No. If this is the quickest way back then I want to go this way. Maybe they’ll go inside by the time we pass.”
Blaine nodded silently and continued to walk, but his insides collapsed into a slush of nerves. Something was urging him to find another way to go. But he couldn’t. He had a feeling Kurt only wanted to continue past the jocks because Blaine was with him, and after all that talk about standing up to bullies and facing fears he would look like a coward if he suggested turning back now. Instead he turned to Kurt and struck up a conversation about how much Christmas shopping he still had left to do. If he acted like they had nothing to worry about Kurt would feel more at ease, and that’s all that mattered.
Kurt caught on to the ‘ignore them and they’ll ignore us’ charade his boyfriend was putting on right away, but his eyes kept darting nervously toward the group as they drew closer. Blaine squeezed his hand. “Hey, don’t pay any attention to those guys. Focus on me,” he whispered, “Don’t look away from my eyes.”
Kurt swallowed hard and kept his eyes locked on Blaine’s. Blaine began rambling again to keep up appearance as they approached. The jocks hearty laughter stopped when they noticed the couple walking hand-in-hand. Kurt felt the weight of their eyes watching them. His heart beat quickened and Blaine gripped his hand reassuringly. One of the taller jocks blew smoke from his cigarette in their faces as they passed with a cruel smirk. Kurt coughed in the cloud of chemicals. He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t. His body reacted before he had time to stop it. It wasn’t a whooping cough, or even a loud one, just a small wheeze from the smoke hitting his throat through his parted lips. The jock however, took it offensively.
“What’d you say, Tinkerbelle?”
Kurt kept his eyes fixed on Blaine, but Blaine had stopped talking. His face grew dark and he stared intensely at the ground.
“Hey you little faggot, I asked you a question.”
Blaine slowed his pace, a far off look in his eyes.
“Just keep walking.” Kurt muttered.
“Yeah Peter Pan, keep walking. Maybe if you do what Tink says he’ll shower you in his pixie dust tonight.”
Blaine stopped abruptly. His shoulders tensed and his grip on both the shopping bags and Kurt’s hand tightened painfully. That’s when Kurt realized that he had never heard anyone harass Blaine before. Anxious, Kurt yanked his hand to get him moving again, but he wouldn’t budge. Why did he stop? Was he planning to turn around and say something? There were six of them; Blaine was crazy if he thought he could take them all. They’d tear him to shreds.
“Blaine, please,” Kurt pulled more forcefully. Blaine looked up from the ground and stared at Kurt with an expression Kurt couldn’t quite decipher, like he was terrified yet pleading for him to let him fight.
“Please baby, don’t.” Kurt whispered.“The car’s just across the street. Let’s go home.”
Blaine searched Kurt’s eyes with the same hard, far off look and after what seemed like an eternity began walking again. The jocks shouted a few more insults at them before returning to their cigarettes. Kurt sighed and held onto Blaine’s hand with both of his as they crossed the empty street. They walked quietly for a long time, Blaine lost in his thoughts and Kurt lost on what Blaine could be thinking. Blaine looked anxious; repeatedly glancing over his shoulder long after the group of boys disappeared into the theater. But he didn’t voice any concern. When the silence became too much to take Kurt cleared his throat.
“Are you okay?”
Blaine furrowed his eyebrows together, thinking hard.
“Yeah,” he said slowly.
“I didn’t realize how much they would get to you. If I had known we would have walked across the street when I first saw them.”
“What? No Kurt, it’s not your fault. And it’s not what they said that’s bothering me right now. Do you honestly think I’m not strong enough to let a few stupid words roll off my shoulder?”
Kurt cocked his eyebrow.“What is it then?”
“I just- I’m sorry, Kurt. I had this really weird dream last night and I… All day I’ve had this feeling that something huge was going to happen. I’ve had all this anticipation building up inside of me and I didn’t know why. For a moment I thought those jerks back there had to be the reason behind it, like they were going to attack us or something, but I guess I was wrong. The feeling’s still there. Now I’m just anxious to figure out what it is.”
“If it’s anything at all,” Kurt smiled. “You know I’ve had days like that too, Blaine. It’s called having too much caffeine. Maybe you should lay off the coffee for a while?”
Blaine grinned and pulled Kurt’s hands to his mouth, kissing his knuckles.
“And risk missing out on dates with you after school? Never.”
--------
Kurt sat in the SUV while Blaine put the shopping bags in the trunk. As he shifted the bags he already had around to make room for more his phone vibrated in his pocket. A number he didn’t recognize lit the screen.
“Hello?”
“I’m calling for Blaine Anderson,” a smooth voice answered.
Kurt looked over his shoulder from the passenger seat with a curious expression.
“Who is it?” he mouthed.
Blaine shrugged and began securing the shopping bags in the trunk.
“Speaking.”
“Blaine, it’s Julian.”
Blaine dropped one of the bags, spilling its contents over the asphalt. Kurt shot him an appalled glare but he didn’t notice.
“Get out,” he grinned slowly. “Julian, Julian Ira?”
“The one and only.”
Blaine laughed ecstatically and ran his hand through his hair in disbelief. Kurt cocked his eyebrow.
“Julian? You’ve got to be kidding me! How did you get my number?”
“How did I get your number, really? You haven’t heard from me in two years and that’s the first thing you’re asking? I’m disappointed in you Blaine.”
Kurt listened inquisitively as Blaine talked on the phone. He couldn’t recall a time when his boyfriend ever sounded so happy, which was a pretty impressive feat. Who the hell was he talking to?
When Blaine finished packing everything into the car he shut the trunk and paced around the parking lot eagerly. Kurt watched carefully from the passenger seat. He was never one to get jealous over Blaine’s friends, but now seemed like an opportune time to start. Blaine was so happy to be talking to whoever was on the other line that he almost looked insane. His eyes were wide and beaming and his goofy smile stretched a little too close to his ears to look normal. In fact he almost looked comical, if not a little demonic. At one point in the conversation Blaine got so excited that his joyful pace around the hood of the car turned into some strange dance. Kurt’s cheeks flushed. Whoever he was talking to was making Blaine look like a complete idiot and Kurt couldn’t bear to watch anymore. It was embarrassing. He turned his attention to the radio with a sneer, thinking that if he ever met the person on the other line he’d slap them in the face for making his boyfriend loose his sense of decency. But as he skimmed through the stations Kurt couldn’t help but wonder if Blaine ever paced and danced around when he was on the phone with him.
Kurt had time to listen to four songs before Blaine finally hung up and bounded into the car. He practically bounced in the driver’s seat when he got in, and Kurt briefly considered the possibility that he wasn’t fit to drive.
“So!” Kurt sang loudly, “What’s the cause of super-hyper Blaine? Should I be just as excited as you or should I be terrified? Because honestly, you’re really scaring me right now.”
Blaine started his engine and beamed at Kurt. He opened his mouth to say something but in his excitement all he could do was laugh. Not just casually laugh. Blaine was hysterical. He rested his head against the steering wheel and laughed for so long that tears formed in his eyes. The concerned look on Kurt’s face only made him laugh harder.
“Kurt I-I’m sorry it’s just-”
But Blaine couldn’t control his laughter. He leaned his head against his window and closed his eyes in an effort to compose himself, but for some reason he only laughed harder. And like yawns tend to do, Kurt found himself suppressing the urge to laugh too, although he couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh alongside Blaine, or at him, or out of fear. Five whole minutes passed before Blaine’s laughter -which now sounded more like cries of pain- began to subside, but he stayed like that for a while, goofy grinned and giggly. Kurt had to stop himself from laughing again at how crazy he looked; if he started now it might rile Blaine up again.
The rain that had been threatening to fall all day began to thud loudly on the windshield. The noise seemed to sober Blaine up a little. His silly grin slipped into a small smile as he watched the thick pellets drip down the glass.
“You know how I said I thought something big was going to happen today,” he said finally.
Kurt released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. For a while he didn’t think he’d ever hear Blaine speak normally again. He loved seeing Blaine happy, but not so happy that he couldn’t bring himself to talk, especially when Kurt didn’t know what the hell he was so excited about.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“This must have been it.”
Kurt raised his eyebrows for further explanation but Blaine wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were transfixed on the window.
“And what might this be?”
Blaine smiled a little wider and sat up.
“Julian’s coming back.”
Kurt felt his body go ridged. All this giddiness was over a boy?
“Julian?”
“Yeah, he’s a close friend of mine from school.”
“Funny, I don’t recall anyone named Julian going to Dalton,” Kurt spat.
“No, not from Dalton,” Blaine buckled his seat belt and threw the car into reverse. “He went to Cottingham, my first high school. He was my best friend.”
There was a pull at Kurt’s stomach. Blaine hardly ever mentioned his old high school, let alone any friends he may have had there.
“Well he must be something special to make you to act like this.”
The rain picked up as Blaine pulled out of the parking lot.
“Julian? Yeah, he’s great.”
“If he’s so great then why haven’t you mentioned him before?”
“I guess I never felt compelled to.” Blaine shrugged.
“Oh really, why’s that?”
Blaine frowned and turned up his windshield wipers. “Kurt, the roads are kind of bad. Can we save it for later?”
“Fine,” Kurt sighed dramatically, leaning his head against the window.
The longer they drove the harder the rain fell. Somewhere in the distance thunder growled. Blaine drove slowly to the Hummel house, but Kurt wasn’t so sure it was entirely due to the weather. Despite his furrowed eyebrows a ghost of a smile remained etched on Blaine’s lips; the same smile he wore when he was talking to Julian. Kurt could almost hear the hum of an imaginary projector flicking schoolboy memories across the back of his boyfriend’s eyes. The two were sitting mere inches apart but Blaine felt a million miles away.
Kurt cleared his throat and shifted in his seat several times to try to turn Blaine’s thoughts back to him. When Blaine didn’t look over he turned up the radio and browsed through the stations until he came across one of Blaine’s favorite songs. He blasted the volume and sung along with a smile, but Blaine didn’t join in. It quickly became clear that whatever attention Blaine could offer to reality was entirely focused on the road. There was no room for Kurt right now.
That’s when Kurt decided that whoever this Julian guy was he didn’t like him. In fact he despised him. Blaine never ignored Kurt, ever. It wasn’t that Kurt minded not being the center of Blaine’s attention, but being ignored because Blaine was thinking of another guy, even if he was an old friend, was a problem. Besides, Kurt knew nothing about Julian’s relationship with Blaine. What if he was gay? Had he and Blaine experimented in the past? What if he was prettier than Kurt? If Julian was clouding Blaine’s thoughts this much after a quick phone call, what would Blaine act like when Julian was physically with him? What if Blaine became so invested in Julian that he forgot about Kurt all together?
A flash of lightning illuminated the sky.
Blaine chuckled lowly and tilted his head toward Kurt, careful not to let his eyes leave the road.
“Isn’t it funny,” he muttered, more to himself than to his boyfriend.
“Isn’t what funny?” Kurt snapped.
The glow from the traffic light hanging above bleached Blaine's face in a harsh red tint. His expression had turned cold, unreadable. Thunder growled from somewhere close ahead and Kurt was briefly reminded of the way Blaine's eye's looked in the final twist in the teleidoscope. Suddenly he wished he hadn't said anything to him at all.
It was only with great effort that he heard Blaine answer coolly,“The way lightning strikes before you hear it coming?”
Comments
Very interesting. I'll be sticking around, this seems like it can get even better. Although, it sort of spooked me (in a good way). Titanic references? GOLD.