Kurt was not having one of his prettier days.
His entire day, even before he was able to begin his moisturizing routine, started off wrong. Kurt started to think that was the root of the problem was the fact that he never even got to moisturize.
Lack of moisturizer led to lack of a deep condition.
Lack of a deep condition led to not putting in his contacts.
By the end of the morning, Kurt had lost the will to advent in the rest of the day, resorting to flop back into bed, wasting his Saturday. His schedule was completely fucked over. It was like a horrible hangover. Every noise tormented his head and made him want to hang himself from his Prada bag and open a vein with his sequined top.
Kurt felt his phone vibrate beneath one of his pillows, groaning as he searched for his phone, but smiled weakly when he saw the text from his boyfriend, Blaine.
Hey, sweetheart. Can I come over and see your pretty face?
Kurt stared at his phone, closing his eyes, then texted Blaine back.
Not today. I'm having an ugly day.
Nearly seconds later, he got his response.
I'm on my way.
Kurt stayed silent when he heard a knock on his bedroom door. He knew it was Blaine, but he hoped, somewhere in his soul, that if he stayed quiet, Blaine would leave.
Unlikely.
Blaine clicked the door open. Kurt kept deathly still under the covers. He hoped, somewhere in his soul, that Blaine's vision could be based on movement, like a T-Rex, and without any movement, he would leave.
Unlikely.
He knew he was off, he just compared his boyfriend to a dinosaur.
Blaine sat at the edge of Kurt's bed, placing a large hand on the long leg underneath the fluffy comforter. "Kurt," he said gently, and was met with a groan.
"Go away," Kurt whined. Blaine chuckled.
"What's this about having an ugly day?" he asked. Kurt made a whining noise, then climbed out of bed, sitting cross-legged in front of Blaine. He dapper boy had to admit, Kurt was the epitome of adorable right now. He wore an asymmetrical top with sweats, his typically perfectly coiffed hair askew, and a pair of black horn rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose.
Blaine laughed. This did not impress Kurt. "What is so fucking funny!" he exclaimed. His Prada bag was in sight. He was prepared.
"Kurt, you are not ugly," Blaine said bluntly. "You're beautiful."
"Don't patronize me, Warbler..." Kurt grumbled, "I look like a hot mess. I haven't moisturized, my hair looks like shit, I don't have my contacts-"
Blaine cut the smaller boy off, softly pressing his lips to his own. Kurt sighed in a somewhat dreamily way, melting into the kiss. It was soft and chaste, completely perfect. Kurt needed it.
Blaine pulled away, his hand on the nape of Kurt's neck, their foreheads together. "You don't need to go through hours of preparation for me to think you're beautiful. I could never think you're ugly."
Kurt smiled, delivering a second sweet peck on Blaine's pink lips. He felt better. "Thanks, Blaine. I... I-I needed that."
Blaine beamed at his boyfriend. "So, you wanna go out and do something."
"Yeah, uh, let's not push it."