“
—— maybe wear whatever you’re
planning on wearing that night, or if you don’t have it handy, raid the costume
shoppe for something similar?”
shoulders shrug slightly as she contemplates the question. “ —— other than that, just bring your charming personality and a LOT
of patience for a bunch of severely stressed out technicians
with no tolerance for —— well,
basically anyone or anything. we’ll
try and get through it as quick as
possible so we don’t take up too much of your time.”
“I mean.. Do you need something to eat? A coffee? I can pick something up for you,” Blaine grinned and nudged the strap of his satchel higher on his shoulder. The poor thing must be stressed out if his offer swooped over her head as easily as it did. “My patience is easy. I can’t imagine the pressure you guys are under. Please don’t worry about my time. I’ve got nowhere to be and you don’t need something else on your plate to fret over, okay? We’ll make sure whatever you need to get done gets done and that’s that. Got it?”
“Hey, Sam,” Blaine held the phone to one ear while giving the hem of his blanket run for it’s money with the other. The thread on the hem nearly worn through by how many times his fingernails dug in, scratched and pulled against the wool. “I know it’s late,” he cringed when a glance at the glowing green numbers on his alarm read 2:45AM, “and I’m really sorry to wake you up.” Guilt for disturbing Sam grew heavier in his belly a few seconds past hearing his groggy voice. “This probably sounds super dumb but..,” a heavy sigh came from his end of the line.
“Would you mind just talking for a little while? I don’t care what you say. You can read, or go through A to Z on your impressions list. Whatever you want until you fall back to sleep again. Sorry to ask. Probably sounds crazy. I’m just not having a very good night..”
whether blaine had really meant that his finger flare was the best thing ‘ ever ’ or he was teasing, scorpius was thrilled beyond the telling of it. just to be standing having a conversation with this man and have him seem genuinely interested in that was —- it was unlike anything he’d ever known. maybe americans simply did things BETTER ? ! “ visiting and in desperate need someone to tell me what i should be ordering from the bar because these ‘ manhattans ’ aren’t as good as i thought they’d be. so —- y e s , whatever you’re having? ” perhaps he’d have impeccable taste to match his impeccable EVERYTHING ELSE.
His attention was drawn towards the drink that Scorpius didn’t particularly care for. Manhattans were always too bitter for him to enjoy. Something about all that Vermouth not killing the straight up whiskey taste. Just not his thing. “Oh? Those? Yeah. The sweet ones are better in my opinion. If you don’t mind sweet?” A sweep of his fingers towards the bar and he rocked forward on his heels until gravity pulled his momentum forward and off they were to the bar. Putting his hands in his pockets as they walked–hazel eyes combed over the stranger’s features. “You’re visiting? Where from? Careful. I feel someone should warn you, New York City has a habit of luring visitors in and making them never want to leave. As they bellied up to the bar–Blaine lifted his hand and to get the bartender’s attention. He got a nod of acknowledgement and turned all his attention back to his company, eyes bright and smile wide. “Are you enjoying your time here so far?”
“Mr. Anderson?” Julian asked, walking into the choir room. “I..was wondering if I could talk to you about these dance moves. With all due respect to Mr. Schuester, The Warblers and I just don’t think they’re going to cut it,” he sighed. “We don’t know what to do.”
The boy wasn’t off his mark. The New Directions always seemed to get it together at the last second and it might happen this time–or not. The chance of losing was too big. They needed a solution fast What Kurt, Rachel and Mr. Schue had to realize was their answer was standing in front of Blaine. The former Warblers. How to pitch that and not come off as completely overly cocky? That was the issue. Sighing softly–Blaine motioned for Julian to take a seat beside him on the piano bench with a pat. “I understand and you’re right. Waiting for the Miracle Cure All is taking too big of a risk.” Especially for his boys. They needed this win. “I’m not sure–and it’s going to take some convincing–but I think we can do it if you and I work together.”
“Thanks,” Elliott looked away to the floor at the compliments, wanting to believe them but struggling so hard to do so. It just didn’t seem comprehensible that Blaine could see him so vulnerable and still think he was attractive. It was why he dressed and acted like he did – a comfort blanket that Blaine had just seen right through.
When Blaine spoke so directly and bluntly to him, Elliott had to keep looking away, sniffing slightly as he nodded. There was a moment of silence before he reached forwards and wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist, pulling him into a tight hug and burying his face in the others shoulder as his eyes watered. He couldn’t cry, he couldn’t do that to Blaine or to his own image. No crying allowed, even if he was pretty damn close to it.
Blaine’s expression softened to a gentle understanding. He knew Elliott was struggling to believe him. But they were from an honest place of first-hand understanding and he wished that Elliott would take them for what they were. Truth. Not seeing himself like that was not only an injustice to himself but one Blaine wouldn’t stand for letting dig itself into Elliott’s mind any further. Now that he knew about it?
A silent promise to the other was made that he’d make sure to do everything in his power to show Elliott–somehow–that he deserves to give himself far more credit and accept that when it comes to people? Elliott was pretty far up on Blaine’s list of the good ones. Inside and out.
Being pulled in against him was unexpected. Though Elliott was the hug captain extraordinaire and he should have known it was coming–he didn’t. Surprise or not–Blaine wrapped his arms up around Elliott’s shoulders, keeping one elbow bent so he could card his fingers through his hair and stroke the back of the other’s head. A brush of his cheek against Elliott’s and he whispered comfortingly into his ear. “Hey.. Shhh. You’re okay. I got you. And I promise I meant everything I said.”
Walter felt the hot liquid slide down his throat as he sipped on the coffee in his hand. He had thought the cheap looking cafe would have just as cheap-tasting drinks, but the place had outdone itself. Thin fingers held onto the styrofoam cup as he searched for an empty table in the small dining area. The Mabry boy had been in hiding ever since he had escaped jail for fraud and money theft, so what better to place to hide from the world than in the small town of Lima, Ohio!
The short man felt an urge to yell bubble up inside him as he failed to find a seat of his own, striped scarf covering his bearded mouth. The time of month called for warm clothing and protection, something he was used to since he grew up in the skirts of London. It wasn’t the weather that was hard for him, but more of the fact that he wasn’t the rich little white boy he was accustomed to.
“Bloody hell !” Walter shouted as the drink he held managed to pour over the front of his peacoat, the temperature of it scalding his pale skin.
Blue eyes glanced up to the person who had bumped into him, causing the spill.
Blaine wasn’t ready to make the trip back to Westerville. Kurt and the others said their goodbyes and he lingered at the Lima Bean after they left to have one more for the road. The trip always took longer this time of year thanks to dark coming earlier and if he was going to be anywhere near close to awake enough to make it to his pitstop caffeine refill? Another medium drip and side double shot of espresso were absolutely necessary.
A smile touched his lips when a reminder message popped up on his phone. Don’t forget on your new gloves! I didn’t buy them for just for looks! Call me if you get bored or tired on the drive. Love you! Xoxo, Kurt. Could Kurt get any sweeter? The answer was: Probably. Never underestimate Kurt Hummel’s power of adorable. Gathering his satchel up from the back of his chair–Blaine sent him a message back as he quickly stood and spun on his heels to go place his order.
He didn’t make it far. –Gloves! Don’t forget the gloves!– Too busy rooting through his things–head down and attention elsewhere–the short boy in a grey and red scarf and black woolen coat smacked directly into someone he didn’t notice was right there.
“Oh my–! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” he cringed then went into a panicked concern seeing hot coffee covering the front of the man’s coat. That had to hurt! “I wasn’t–! Are you okay??”
pianokeysandbowties back up 