ca_te
Feb. 26, 2012, 10:18 p.m.
Take this broken heart
The stage lights wash over him- he feels too warm and he briefly wonders if people could melt because of the pain they have stored inside. He can feel his own pain, neatly stacked at the back of his heart. (Warnings: talking of suicide. Spoilers for ep 3x14)
E - Words: 643 - Last Updated: Feb 26, 2012 327 0 0 0 Categories: Angst, Romance,
Author's Notes: This is a reaction fic to episode 3x14 "On my way", inspired by Blaine singing "Cough Syroup" and focusing on Blaine and his relationship with Kurt.
A dark world aches for a splash of the sun
The stage lights wash over him- he feels too warm and he briefly wonders if people could melt because of the pain they have stored inside. He can feel his own pain, neatly stacked at the back of his heart.
Blaine starts singing and feels the weight of Kurt’s gaze on him; goosebumps blossom on his skin despite of the heat.
His throat feels tighter, but he knows he cannot stop, because this is it. This is when he can finally share what has been gripping at his insides since that day he woke up in a hospital bed, feeling like a stranger inside his abused body.
He doesn’t know why he has chosen today to show this dark corner of his heart to Kurt. This morning he woke up, still trembling as the vestiges of a nightmare kept licking at his conscience, and knew that the weight of that compact darkness would crush him if he didn’t share it with Kurt.
That’s the thing; Blaine doesn’t need some random person or friend, he needs him, with his eyes too clear for this rotten world, with his stitched heart.
He has known it since the day he met Kurt at Dalton and watched him cry- so beautiful and unguarded. Blaine saw the determination under Kurt’s despair and loneliness. It made him feel small and weak and a the same time it made him want to reach out when he had spent most of the previous years hiding behind a well-built fa�ade made of charming smiles and hopping onto furniture as though his heart wasn’t covered in scars.
In silence, he has hold onto Kurt’s adoring gazes, onto his gentle hands- “first love” couldn’t even begin to sum up what Kurt is to him, to explain how in the circle of Kurt’s arms he finally learnt that he could stop standing on his toes at the edge of the void.
He isn’t brave enough to talk, though: that’s why he sings and looks at Kurt, his porcelain skin almost glowing under the blue lights.
A lump forms in his throat because he knows that his heart is too ruined to offer it to the boy he loves. It creaks more often than not, still sore because of his father’s disapproving gazes, because of the pain that flared through his body that night after the Sadie Hawkins dance, but above all because of the tears he cried alone in his hospital room- wishing that the pain could go away, wishing that everything could just stop and disappear.
Kurt is looking at him intently and Blaine knows that Kurt can see through him, right into that dusty corner where no one has ever cared to look. He has never shown Kurt the depth of the despair he felt, but he lets him look now, he needs him to see it.
Words keep tumbling past his lips and he closes his eyes against the tears that are starting to form. He hopes that Kurt won’t refuse his broken heart, because he knows he wouldn’t be able to stitch it together this time.
He keeps his eyes closed when the songs ends; his lungs burn and his heart slams against his ribcage as though it wants to break free.
“Blaine…”
Blaine thinks his name has never sounded so perfect. He doesn’t open his eyes, he keeps standing there, trying to force his lungs to work. He swallows at the sound Kurt’s boots make against the wooden floor.
Kurt’s warmth comes into waves, his breath ghosting across Blaine’s cheek.
Kurt slides his arms around Blaine’s waist carefully. Blaine holds onto Kurt’s shoulders as though he is gripping a lifeline. Slowly he blinks his eyes open against the smooth skin of Kurt’s neck.
His skin feel too tight.
They don’t say anything. Blaine can feel their broken hearts beating in sync.
The stage lights wash over him- he feels too warm and he briefly wonders if people could melt because of the pain they have stored inside. He can feel his own pain, neatly stacked at the back of his heart.
Blaine starts singing and feels the weight of Kurt’s gaze on him; goosebumps blossom on his skin despite of the heat.
His throat feels tighter, but he knows he cannot stop, because this is it. This is when he can finally share what has been gripping at his insides since that day he woke up in a hospital bed, feeling like a stranger inside his abused body.
He doesn’t know why he has chosen today to show this dark corner of his heart to Kurt. This morning he woke up, still trembling as the vestiges of a nightmare kept licking at his conscience, and knew that the weight of that compact darkness would crush him if he didn’t share it with Kurt.
That’s the thing; Blaine doesn’t need some random person or friend, he needs him, with his eyes too clear for this rotten world, with his stitched heart.
He has known it since the day he met Kurt at Dalton and watched him cry- so beautiful and unguarded. Blaine saw the determination under Kurt’s despair and loneliness. It made him feel small and weak and a the same time it made him want to reach out when he had spent most of the previous years hiding behind a well-built fa�ade made of charming smiles and hopping onto furniture as though his heart wasn’t covered in scars.
In silence, he has hold onto Kurt’s adoring gazes, onto his gentle hands- “first love” couldn’t even begin to sum up what Kurt is to him, to explain how in the circle of Kurt’s arms he finally learnt that he could stop standing on his toes at the edge of the void.
He isn’t brave enough to talk, though: that’s why he sings and looks at Kurt, his porcelain skin almost glowing under the blue lights.
A lump forms in his throat because he knows that his heart is too ruined to offer it to the boy he loves. It creaks more often than not, still sore because of his father’s disapproving gazes, because of the pain that flared through his body that night after the Sadie Hawkins dance, but above all because of the tears he cried alone in his hospital room- wishing that the pain could go away, wishing that everything could just stop and disappear.
Kurt is looking at him intently and Blaine knows that Kurt can see through him, right into that dusty corner where no one has ever cared to look. He has never shown Kurt the depth of the despair he felt, but he lets him look now, he needs him to see it.
Words keep tumbling past his lips and he closes his eyes against the tears that are starting to form. He hopes that Kurt won’t refuse his broken heart, because he knows he wouldn’t be able to stitch it together this time.
He keeps his eyes closed when the songs ends; his lungs burn and his heart slams against his ribcage as though it wants to break free.
“Blaine…”
Blaine thinks his name has never sounded so perfect. He doesn’t open his eyes, he keeps standing there, trying to force his lungs to work. He swallows at the sound Kurt’s boots make against the wooden floor.
Kurt’s warmth comes into waves, his breath ghosting across Blaine’s cheek.
Kurt slides his arms around Blaine’s waist carefully. Blaine holds onto Kurt’s shoulders as though he is gripping a lifeline. Slowly he blinks his eyes open against the smooth skin of Kurt’s neck.
His skin feel too tight.
They don’t say anything. Blaine can feel their broken hearts beating in sync.