It's staring at me.
It's actually really creepy, and I don't know why I don't throw it out.
I took it from Hummel. I took it because I needed a reason to be close to him. I wanted to say sorry for threatening him, for being a douche, but the second he told me he didn't want me near him, I felt like fire had caught in my brain, and not the good kind I get from adrenaline on the field or when I punch something, a locker, and it buckles under my strength. No, this fire, well, it sucked.
It hurt, mostly.
And I had to go and prove to him that he couldn't stop me. I had to touch him to prove that I could, that I was still a man, that I was still stronger. I had to do it, and now he's gone. It's my fault he goes to Dalton now.
And I still have that freakin' cake topper. I still have it. I keep it in my nightstand until everyone in the house goes to sleep, and then I bring it out and set it by my lamp and it makes me smile and it creeps me out.
I'm so creepy. How'd I get so creepy?
It's still staring at me.
And I guess I know exactly why I don't throw it out.
Hummel. Oh, Kurt.
You drive me insane.