kathlegit
May 31, 2013, 1:17 p.m.
Snowflake
So, this is about both Kurt and Blane, even though neither is explicitly mentioned. This story is unbeta'd (is that right?) and it's my first Klaine fic that I'm putting out there (the others are hidden on my hard drive... for now), so sorry for mistakes or general shitty flow. Comment and rate, please, so I can improve!!
K - Words: 413 - Last Updated: May 31, 2013 449 0 0 0 Categories: AU, Cotton Candy Fluff, Characters: Kurt Hummel, Tags: futurefic,
Author's Notes: Use of one hateful word. Use of one hateful word.
A tiny, white snowflake fluttered down to Earth. It twisted and turned, whipped around by wind and circumstance. It dodged a young girl's eyelashes and watched as a few of its brothers and sisters were caught in her hair. It spun around a few times in a halo of light before drifting onwards. It floated past more of its family, watching as they were packed into balls, only to fly through the air again. Eventually, the snowflake descended amid a circle of evergreens and settled comfortably on an old wooden bench.
An elderly couple shuffled towards the bench. The old man, always the gentleman, brushed the shards of ice off the bench and laid a blanket down across it. His love blushed a soft pink-- after all these years some things never changed-- and thanked him before sitting down. The gentleman followed suit and sank down onto the bench, as well. The two clasped hands and stared out into nothing. After a while, the gentleman turned his head and stared at the eyes he loved: pure, bright cobalt (the winter always brought out the strongest shade of blue).
In response, a quirked eyebrow and a teasing smile, "May I help you?" lips curving into a half smirk, eyes dancing with the tease.
"Yes," he quipped back, wiggling his eyebrows, "I'm married to this old hag, but I can't seem to find h—" he was cut off by a swift smack to the arm and a chuckle.
"Oh, are we going to start on the old jokes? Because I have a few I've been saving up."
"Really, now?"
"Mhm, quite a few actually." The conversation faded with an amused smile and a quick kiss.
The two settled into a comfortable silence, occasionally stealing adoring glimpses at each other, grinning and giggling whenever these glances crossed. Hands help together tightly, snuggled into each other's sides, alone among the frosted pine trees, a peaceful picture in a peaceful night.
The little, white snowflake watched the couple from its perch on the bench, grateful that the two hadn't jostled its precarious position. Warmed by their presence, the snowflake began to melt away. It observed wordlessly, wondering at a love so simple and yet so lasting. The snowflake was still gazing at the couple when out of the silence a young woman walked past. Staring at the pair on the bench with a mixture of resentment and disgust, she spat out one sharp word, "Fags."
An elderly couple shuffled towards the bench. The old man, always the gentleman, brushed the shards of ice off the bench and laid a blanket down across it. His love blushed a soft pink-- after all these years some things never changed-- and thanked him before sitting down. The gentleman followed suit and sank down onto the bench, as well. The two clasped hands and stared out into nothing. After a while, the gentleman turned his head and stared at the eyes he loved: pure, bright cobalt (the winter always brought out the strongest shade of blue).
In response, a quirked eyebrow and a teasing smile, "May I help you?" lips curving into a half smirk, eyes dancing with the tease.
"Yes," he quipped back, wiggling his eyebrows, "I'm married to this old hag, but I can't seem to find h—" he was cut off by a swift smack to the arm and a chuckle.
"Oh, are we going to start on the old jokes? Because I have a few I've been saving up."
"Really, now?"
"Mhm, quite a few actually." The conversation faded with an amused smile and a quick kiss.
The two settled into a comfortable silence, occasionally stealing adoring glimpses at each other, grinning and giggling whenever these glances crossed. Hands help together tightly, snuggled into each other's sides, alone among the frosted pine trees, a peaceful picture in a peaceful night.
The little, white snowflake watched the couple from its perch on the bench, grateful that the two hadn't jostled its precarious position. Warmed by their presence, the snowflake began to melt away. It observed wordlessly, wondering at a love so simple and yet so lasting. The snowflake was still gazing at the couple when out of the silence a young woman walked past. Staring at the pair on the bench with a mixture of resentment and disgust, she spat out one sharp word, "Fags."