Just taking one look at Blaine’s room, Seb could tell it reflected everything he was in a way. And who Blaine was? Sebastian loved endlessly, even if he kept that big minor detail inside his mysterious mind. Green eyes observed music related things, nautical themed items scattered around, all the colors Blaine kept dominant in his wardrobe, and the one that caught his eye most being all of the photos of him and Kurt. That part was one that made Sebastian feel almost uncomfortable. Not because he hadn’t turned a new leaf and tried to come face to face with the fact that Blaine was Kurt’s and it wouldn’t be different; But because somehow even though he knew this whole meeting was more than innocent, a friend to friend thing, it still was like a phantom label of villainous guilt was stamped to his forehead. Was it a bad choice to come here? These days it seemed to hard to tell what was good and what was bad because either way it seemed to end with sourness. A good guy hiding behind the mask of trouble made things blurry.
Though this whole thing was already confusing, the whispered voice at the other side of the bed caught Sebastian’s attention and he fell out of his trance of anxieties to be reminded the real reason he was here. Sebastian was here for Blaine and the sake of needing to be forgiven. Needing to make sure someone he had so quickly grown to care about was okay. A soft smile appears on his lips as he looks over at the other, keeping his hands in his lap. Beautiful as ever was Blaine Anderson. Though the mood in the room was calm a part of his heart always still began to beat faster when those hazel eyes looked at him. The tricky part now was ingraining in his head that he wasn’t supposed to be thinking that way.
❝Good afternoon, sleepy head.❞ he says lightheartedly. Why in the hell was Blaine asking if he was okay? I mean he knew that the whole text conversation they had very much revealed that Sebastian was dealing with some major one man wars in his head—– but god damn, being asked that question only reminded him how good of a person Blaine was. Here he was in bed on drugs for his poor eye caused by something Sebastian did, and he was asking Sebastian if he was okay? Not to mention that Blaine allowed him to come here because if he went home it would of been a bad environment. Eyes glance off to pull away contact for a moment as he pauses, soon staring back at the other male. ❝I’m great.❞ he lies with a smile, he has to be strong.
❝I think the real question is how you’re doing, Claus von Stauffenberg?❞ he asks, adding in a little bit of jokes directed towards the eye patch (which by the way, Sebastian shamefully thinks Blaine looks adorable with) in hopes it can lighten the situation a bit.
“You’re great,” he asks back in a tone that the lingering fogginess in his brain doesn’t let him cover up with something else. Disbelief. He wasn’t buying that Sebastian was great. Not after their conversation and–definitely–not after laying here watching that distant expression he saw written on his face. There was more that put it there than a picture of him and Kurt. That was most certainly the case. “Me? I’m okay,” Blaine didn’t have to lie about that. He was okay. Not great. Not amazing. Not anything but okay. Without the drugs–he got sore. Without talking to Sebastian and seeing him in person so they could talk this out. Then talking to Sebastian and sensing how messed up he was over this whole ordeal. All the stress his situation was putting his friends and Kurt through. His parents being angry that he wouldn’t say who did this to him. Before his Dad gave up and Blaine told his Mother to keep her appointments in Cincinnati. None of it when added with the fact that at least he wasn’t blind in one eye was balancing out to amazing, great, or anything other than okay.
Sebastian looked terrible. Lost and far away. If that’s what this mess turned him into? From the laughing, playfully jabbing friend he often found himself wondering where he got most of what came out of his mouth from? He had a fire in him. One that Blaine was pulled towards time and time again. Seeing it gone? Filled his stomach with a sense of sadness that was gut wrenching. “You don’t seem very great, Seb. But you’re here and we can fix things. You’re not leaving until we do and until you can promise me that you’re going to be okay if I let you go home. So.. Trust me? I don’t hate you. If that’s what you’re worried about the most? You can stop now.” The bed rustles as he scoots closer and uses his knee to gently nudge the outside of Sebastian’s thigh closest to him. One pleading eye meets both of his friend’s. –Please trust me. I can’t hate you. I tried. I can’t. I won’t ever be able to. I don’t care who says I should..–
Blaine half-heartedly laughs at the Claus von Stauffenberg comparison. He grins right after and lazily shrugs. “I wish I could brag that this happened during a war that I was trying to assassinate Hitler in but–anyway. Come here,” he reaches towards the boy sitting awkwardly on the edge of his bed. Fingers insistently wiggle to be taken. “It’s cold in the house and I’ve been cheating by just curling up in blankets instead of starting a fire. I don’t trust myself with matches. And I haven’t bothered to turn on the heat yet. Lay down with me?” Trying to coax him further–Blaine wriggles his fingers and waits for Sebastian to take them. “We can talk. If that’s what you still want to do. Just.. Come here.”
pianokeysandbowties back up 