As the two stood in silence, it was as if time seemed to slow. Kurt was sure that the expression on his face was one big farrago of devastation and uncertainty, the exact look that had been reserved for Blaine since they had broken up. Eyes flashing over Blaine’s entire frame, Kurt immediately could feel the way that everything about his stance absolutely screamed of uneasiness. To think, this was the man that Kurt loved more than anything; the man that he had considered to not just be his best friend, but his soulmate. And now, they couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as one another. That thought alone utterly killed Kurt. As he swallowed heavily, Kurt tried to pick a coherent thought out from the mess of ‘why did I have to come to McKinley, it’s not as if this was my last time in Lima’ and ‘I’m sure blinking stupidly at your ex-boyfriend is a very adult way of handling this situation’. However, the loudest thought of all was a begging plea to the universe for some kind of distraction to interrupt this pathetic attempt at confrontation. Mr. Schue returning to the classroom with a new armful of Journey lyric sheets, his dad calling to alarmingly inform him that he lit a recipe book on fire with the burner whilst attempting to cook Carole dinner (again), Rachel texting in all caps that she was locked out of their apartment and Kurt needed to return to New York that instant to assist her. Anything would do.
Alas, the mystical teapot dwelling dwarf in the sky did nothing to aid Kurt in his predicament. It looked like he was on his own to sort things out. The sound of Blaine’s keys hitting the floor managed to snap Kurt out of his frozen trance. Trying to repress the complete ‘deer in the headlights’ look he had going on, Kurt tore his eyes away from Blaine and to the sheet music that the other man was staring at. “No,” He said suddenly, shaking his head, “I’m not about to run you out of your own school.” Kurt reached behind him for the papers, not daring to turn his back on Blaine. He had the strange feeling that the second he completely took his eyes off of him, Blaine would make a mad dash out the door. Kurt took two careful steps forward, only becoming aware of how incredibly loud his shoes were just then. Holding the music out for Blaine to take, Kurt found himself praying that he would just look at him. As difficult as this was, he still couldn’t bear the pain of such avoidance. Still, part of him considered walking out right then and there. The only thing keeping him grounded was the idea that awkward emotional skirmishes like this one would always be present between them. They would have to see each other, it was inevitable. Oh the pain of being in the same exact friend group as your ex. Kurt took in a long deep breath and decided that he was finally going to take the initiative, “How have you been?”
The longer he stood still underneath the crushing weight of Kurt’s stare, he began feel it down to his b o n e s heightening the need to get out. Every suffocating second made each limb start to match his heart in the ache department. With nothing to do to let all of that tension out, Blaine compromised by reaching an unsteady hand up and scratching the line of his jaw hard enough that a few reddened welts marked his skin after. –Running.– Running would put his bones at ease but he couldn’t free himself from the imaginary concrete his shoes were metaphorically plastered inside of. His the music sheets ceased to be the most important thing on the planet. Kurt was.I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re here. Stay long enough for me to prove it to you. I might not be able to but let me try. Blaine didn’t need their eyes to meet for Kurt to be the only thing that existed in his world. Wasn’t that always the case? No. He couldn’t think that way. His eyes were already burning and his vision blurred. It was only going to get worse if he kept it up. Shutting it down was harder than a whim would allow. Kurt was spot on for the reason he refused to turn his back to Blaine. If he had? He would have turned around to an empty room. Blaine couldn’t bring himself to walk out with Kurt watching him leave. So? He stayed. Gravity binding him to that exact spot. He heard his steps coming forward with a drummer’s tempo that quickened his pulse. “I know you wouldn’t,” his voice was a gravelly scratch mumble he couldn’t cough clear. –Again–, Kurt was the first one to close more space handing over the music before Blaine dared to reach out. He made sure not to touch him whatsoever when he gingerly took it and held it close.
“T-Thanks,” his gaze connected with Kurt’s eyebrows and cheeks. Anywhere but making direct eye contact. Necessary but agonizing. Those were eyes he thought he’d be stare into forever and see nothing but love shining. Seeing the pain, betrayal, disappointment and anger in them last time knowing he was responsible? Blaine would admit he was a coward by avoiding it and deserved to feel the soul shattering hurt by having it greet him in person rather than seeing it burned into his thoughts and nightmares but he’d been a hypocrite to Kurt in the worse way possible. Courage wasn’t something he had. Not for this. “I should–,” he gestured over his shoulder with a jutted out thumb. A question abruptly halted that notion. How greedy should he be with his reply? –Horrible. I can’t sleep. I’m thinking about leaving McKinley because I can’t stand seeing your ghost everywhere. I need you to forgive me. Hate me but say you forgive me.– “Fine. I’m fine. You know–,” he tried to say it lightly as possible, “I’m just– Good. I’m good.” God. Nothing says ‘layering on crap’ like jumbled words that makes absolutely no sense. Blaine took a couple backwards steps closer to the door to give them a ‘respectful distance’. –He’s waiting for you to talk.– Desperate not to have how awful his answer was pointed out, Blaine met Kurt’s eyes at last. Kurt would see through everything if he kept staring elsewhere. He’d see through it if he didn’t, too. Either way he was stuck and he deserved more than him staring at their reflections in the polish. A deep breath tried to make up for the connection stealing all of his oxygen. “How about you? What have you been up to in Lima?”
This was a trainwreck. One he was stuck in because it was too much of a twisted tangle to crawl out of.
Kurt’s boots clacked
noisily in the empty halls of McKinley as he stalked past the
familiar rows of lockers. The more he thought about it, the
worse the idea of coming back to Lima became. Kurt, being
very susceptible to his dad’s pleading, had agreed to take advantage
of his few days off and come see him and Carole. He claimed his
reluctance was due to his new, busy, face-paced New York lifestyle,
but Burt saw through him immediately. It wasn’t much of an
accomplishment, though, since anyone with eyes could figure out the real reason that Kurt was avoiding his hometown like
the black plague. Regardless, Kurt knew he couldn’t visit Lima without stopping
by the old stomping grounds at least once. But he also didn’t want to
run the risk of bumping into Blaine, not after that tragically
awkward encounter at the Grease production. He ultimately decided to
come by an hour or so after school had ended, when nearly all of the
students had cleared out and the teachers still lurked in their
classrooms.
Rounding the corner,
a smile perked to his face once his destination came into view. He
pushed open the unlocked door and sighed happily, unable to deny the
instant feeling of comfort that washed over him when he stepped foot
into the choir room. His plan was to hang around for a little bit in
hopes that Mr. Schue was still on campus and they could have a little
catch-up chat when he came back. Kurt decided to busy himself until
then by slightly leaning against the piano and tapping out half of a
tune. He hummed along to it, despite not exactly knowing what song he
was playing. Kurt suddenly heard the sound of footsteps approaching
the room. He turned to face the doorway, his breath hitching when he
realized who was standing there. “Blaine.” Kurt said, voice
breathier than he intended. His brain told him to follow up the
awkward stating of his name with something else, a greeting perhaps,
but nothing made it’s way out of Kurt’s mouth.
Blaine wasn’t blind, deaf or dumb. He knew about Kurt being in town because Lima was the type of place where news like that didn’t stay a secret for long. Once one of the Glee Club kids found out, mainly Tina, the news hit Blaine within the span of time it took her to quickly text the concerned message asking if he knew and if he was okay. Of course he wasn’t. Reading her text was like a shredder to the chest but he replied that he would be fine and promised her she didn’t have to worry. One day and one sleepless night went by. Paying attention in any class wasn’t possible. All Blaine could think of was wanting to see him and then the absolute opposite. Back and forth the entire afternoon. He was such a garbled blend of confusion and frustration that by the time the last bell rang and his and Sam’s study hour at the library –a vague attempt at being productive once today– Blaine was in his car with the ignition started before he remembered he left all of his sheet music in on top of the piano in the choir room. Uncharacteristically slamming his hands against the wheel and going two shades of red in the process, hazel eyes stared at the sliver of his reflection in the mirror. Could it wait til tomorrow?
Getting back to Westerville for the weekend was top priority after the heartache inducing decision that he wouldn’t encroach on Kurt due to how they parted last time–too soon. No. Not if he was going to have any means of distraction. Grumbling, Blaine climbed out and jogged back inside and down the hall not seeing a soul. His steps slowed as he rounded the corner and heard music. K U R T. Blaine froze as Kurt their eyes met. His fingers even refused to cooperate and dropped his keys with a metallic clatter. The noise resembled the erratic pulse in his chest as his stomach fell. “Kurt,” he couldn’t breathe. “I–Sorry–My music,” he slowly looked at the books and sheets of paper–some they bought together–sitting past Kurt’s arm and back. The piano, the music, Kurt could have been separated from him by thousands of miles by the distance that became oh-so-much more hollow and far. Something inside broke. In a rush of sudden motion, he darted down reaching unsteadily for his keychain shaking his head and not daring to look back up. “Sorry–not important–I didn’t know you were here. I’ll get it tomorrow. Sorry,” he repeated forgetting he already apologized. Twice. Who was counting? There were never enough times he could say that word to the person he was saying it to.
pianokeysandbowties back up 