Painting Upon A Phantom Canvas.
Summary: As Kurt walks through the hallways of Dalton, he hears phantom voices, shouting phantom insults. Phantom hands tossing phantom Slushies.
Pairings: N/A
Warnings: Angst. OOC!Kurt.
Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own Glee and any of it's recognisable characters. The situations I have put them in have nothing to do with the original plotline of the show.
Authors Note: This is based around the time where Kurt first comes to Dalton and is significantly different than he was in the episode.
Painting Upon A Phantom Canvas
The hallways are silent, only the slight squeak of brand-new shoes upon marble is audible as sun shines through painstakingly detailed windows of which are surrounding by Dalton's maple wooded walls. The ceilings are highly arching, the rafters barely able to be seen, giving the faintest illusion that the roof was simply not there.
A porcelain pale hand reached out trying to drag slender fingers across the maple; sharp fingernails trying to smooth invisible creases from the wall as if it was the finest of silks. A figure winds it's lonely way through the mazes of maple hallways and marbled floors with high arching ceilings whilst ghost haunt and follow the unsuspecting boy.
However, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel knew all to well what curse was upon him. His beautiful, glasz eyes would flash to and fro, large and paranoid in their terrifying intensity as the shot from one corner to the other, body held as ridge as a tree standing tall and proud; hands clenched so tightly, the knuckles were a bleached white.
He flinched violently as he turned the corner. He came to an abrupt halt, torso leaning ever so slightly backwards as his pale hands clenched the strap of his leather bag, face closed off as he waited for the inevitable sharp glacial sting of a ice cold Slushie.
It never came.
As Kurt opened his eyes, he didn't see the harsh blaring white of the McKinley walls, he didn't see the sharp grey of metallic lockers, he didn't see the slight yellowing tiles underfoot; indeed, he saw maple wood hallways, with high ceilings and marbled floorways with large windows which blessed the floors with sparkling sunlight. He opened one eye, than the other; obviously expecting the maple halls to disappear with a twirl, almost as if it had been a dream.
As Kurt continued down the hallway, Warblers joined him; adorable Flint Wilson, shameless Nick Thornson and Jeff Lynch; cute Thad Newton;laid-back David Fern; even stricter Wes Montgomery;cute, hobbit-like endearing Blaine Anderson.
Though they were undeniably there, by his side almost as if they were adhesive, the ghosts of Kurt's past still glistened within the corners of his glasz eyes. Phantom voices, throwing phantom insults. Phantom hands throwing phantom slushes. Phantom lips covering his own. Phantom hands throwing him into phantom lockers.