Life's Like An Hourglass Glued to the Table
Vickyoharrypotter
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Life's Like An Hourglass Glued to the Table: Mystery


M - Words: 1,086 - Last Updated: Jan 02, 2012
Story: Closed - Chapters: 5/? - Created: Nov 10, 2011 - Updated: Jan 02, 2012
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Author's Notes: This is kind of a filler chapter. Enjoy!
The coffee shop inside Dalton was very nice, I must say. The walls were covered in beautiful paintings of landscapes from long ago, from the ceiling hung a crystal chandelier that sparkled with the light filtering in from the rather large windows, and the tables and chairs were tastefully chosen.

Not to mention the smell of coffee filling my nose.

But right now, I was not interested in my surroundings but rather the beautiful elfin boy who sat before me. The light that trickled in reflected off of his chestnut hair so perfectly. He probably thinks I’m scum with my horrible appearances today.

“So, Kurt,” I start, “What brings you to Dalton?”
Shit. That was not the reaction I was expecting. The poor boy was tearing up and looking away from me fearfully. “Shit, I’m sorry! You don’t have to tell me.” I grabbed his hand across the table and rubbed soothing circles into it with my thumb.

He looked down at our hands, visibly tensed, and then jerked his hand out of my grasp. “I don’t need your pity,” he hissed, glaring at my hand, which hadn’t yet moved.

I looked at him incredulously. “I don’t pity you. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” Fuck. He hates me. He’s probably straight and is weirded out. I bet he can sense the failure seeping off of me.

“I just don’t feel comfortable spilling my darkest secrets to someone I met fifteen minutes ago,” he snapped, his face dark and unrelenting.

I don’t know why those words hurt so much, but they do and I feel the tell-tale signs of tears welling up in my eyes. No, Blaine. Get your fucking act together. What would Dad say?
But the tears don’t cease to bunch up. A single drop slides down my cheek and I look away, embarrassed. “I just—I know how it feels to be completely on your own and I- I wanted to help,” I manage, my voice breaking on the last syllable.

I chance a peek up at Kurt, only to find him wide-eyed, covering his mouth in shock. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I’m just so used to everyone being horrible to me or pitying me because I’m the weird gay kid and I didn’t—“

“Wait,” Holy shit. “You’re gay, too?” I gape openly at Kurt as he raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

“Come on, now,” he laughs. “I’m the one that should be surprised here. I mean look at me! I practically scream gay.”

He continues talking but I really can’t concentrate because his laugh is the most adorable thing. His eyes and nose scrunch up really tight and he throws his head back, seemingly very humoured. Our conversation turns to lighter subjects and pretty soon we discover that we have quite a lot in common.

It turns out that we both share a deep love for Vogue, RENT, Elton John, Neil Patrick Harris, and Lady Gaga.

I was intrigued to find out that Kurt and his glee club had devoted an entire lesson to Gaga's music and even dressed up in the costumes.

We were in the middle of discussing the latest fall trends when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Wes: Hey, Blaine, I know you're trying to cozy up with the new kid, but we have Warblers practice. No missing rehearsals or you're out, remember?

Fuck. I checked the time n my phone to see that it was already 5:45, which means that I'm late for Warblers practice.

"Who was that? Not meaning to pry or anything but--"

"No, it's fine, Kurt. It's just Wes. I totally forgot that I have Warblers practice today and I'm supposed to be there so..." I trail off, hoping he'll understand what I'm trying to say.

"Would I be allowed to come, too? It seems very promising from what I saw earlier." Kurt grins at me as if he just knows what I was thinking.

I put on my best mock-British accent and say, "That would be magnificent, dear chap. Dare I say, let's get to it, yes?"

He chuckles (There it is again) and picks up his satchel, slinging it over one shoulder. "Lead on, my fellow!"

~~~~

As we arrive at the Warblers meeting, we are greeted with snickers and smirks from the entirety of the group.

*BANG*

"I will have order!" Wes calls out from the front of the room, wielding his gavel like a weapon. "Now that Warbler Blaine has finally decided to grace us with his presence, we my begin. First off, I think a celebratory round of applause is necessary for our very own Warbler Nick's performance in the Senior Commons this afternoon."

Whistles and shouts fill the air as Nick stands up to take a bow.

*BANG*

"Now, we received a lot of comments from the onlookers saying how they were very glad that we decided to showcase some other talent in this group. Therefore, I propose a new rule."

Wes looks around the room, gauging everyone's reactions before continuing. "Every week, the council and I will decide on someone new to be at the front of our group. As for Sectionals, which is looming upon us, we will hold auditions for this coveted lead spot. This way, everyone gets a chance at being in that spotlight."

I glance around the room to find people sneaking glances my way, as if they think I'll burst into tears or something. Not yet, anyway. I look over to Kurt, who is staring me down, trying to read my mind by the looks of it. I smile happily at him before turning my attention back to the council.

"All in favor?"

Every single hand shoots up into the air, mine albeit more slowly, tentatively.

"It is decided. Meeting adjourned."

*BANG, BANG*

The students clear out of the room as if the building was on fire. I stand up slowly, and say carefully to Kurt, "I'm terribly sorry. I have a ton of work to get to. We can meet up tomorrow, yes?"

Kurt lingers on my impassive expression for a moment before nodding. I hand a piece of paper to him and cross my arms defensively, my fingernails digging into my sore arm.

"Here's my number, you can text me any time."

He smiles, glancing down at the paper before stuffing it into his blazer pocket. "I'll see you around, Blaine."

As soon as Kurt is out of sight, I race down the corridor to the dormitories. Release, NOW!

I reach my door, panting as I unlock it frantically, slamming the door behind me loudly.

Come here, Blaine, my blade seems to be calling to me.

Not being able to resist the temptation, I let the darkness control me.

Failure.

End Notes: Don't hesitate to criticize. BRING IT ON

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Let me say this: I love this story for several reasons. Firstly, the spelling and the grammar in this fic is better than that of a lot of other stories. I think that this helps with the flow of the story, so awesome job on that. Secondly, the story...poor poor Blaine. Just...millions of cuddles to you, fictional character. So underappreciated. So hurt. So realistic that I walked around giving people a death glare whenever they interrupted my reading of this. All in all, I'm a fan. Nothing but love. No criticisms. :D