Somnia- Dreams
When Rachel kissed Blaine at her basement party, proclaiming that his face tasted awesome, little did she know that it was my burning ambition to be able to taste it myself. This has never been a silly little crush that girls get on guys. This is literally West Side Story; love at first sight.
It's a blessing I signed up for glee and put up with every bit crap that faced me, a lot of it down to Blaine's guidance and help. If I hadn't been to Spy on the Warblers, I never would have asked Blaine where everyone was going on that now all-too-familiar spiralling staircase. I knew we had chemistry binding us, and, if fate existed, then this was definitely meant to be. Maybe the fact that he knew I was lying made me like him more; the new kid thing worked on every other person in that rather fetching red and navy blue blazer. Being honest, Katy Perry's Teenage Dream sums up how I feel. What could be a more perfect song? I would definitely run away with him, and never look back. If my heart is racing just looking at the back of his head, skinny jeans would be like having him in my bed with me, and then I dread to think what I might do when we got to that stage! When the Warblers did that song, I wasn't sure whether it was me being silly, but did Blaine sing that song to me rather than to an audience? He is such a hopeless romantic; inviting me to come with his friends to have coffee is such a beautiful thing for a guy to do. Then he spoke the most beautiful words I have ever heard. Blaine is gay. From that moment he seemed a hundred times more attractive and seemed to be ignited with a heavenly glow.
Breaking down like that in front of him seems like something I should be ashamed of, but, oddly, I think that if I hadn't, could we have formed the close friendship, to-be-relationship, that we have today? It sounds stupid, sitting in your room, listening to romantic ballads about love, talking to a yellow canary, telling it all my feelings; how I wished that Blaine would realise how much I love him and how I just prayed that he would kiss me till I die. I can't deny that I did that. You have no idea about how head over heels I was – am - about Blaine. He likes football and music, romance and passion. I mean, who couldn't be feeling the way I do about him? He doesn't care about my excessive face care routines and is willing to arrange when we meet up around it. He is every gay guy's dream and being honest, the girls that did the 'sexy' test for when we sang Animal gave him their numbers. Even they couldn't resist, had fallen under his spell, just as I had done.
But every friendship has there dip. Valentine's Day was ours. That Jeremiah guy wasn't even slightly attractive! Then, he starts to date Rachel of all people. Rachel! It's a good thing that she kissed him sober, despite the fact that drunk Blaine is more attractive than anything. That party - he was dancing like a fool and that outfit was simply adorable!
You know that phrase 'when one door closes another opens'? Well, call me sad, but I loved that bird; I told it everything and when it died, it was like seeing a drowned kitten. That was my door closing. I sang Blackbird, not because I think it's an amazing song, but because it expressed exactly how I felt about everything at the time. It was then that Blaine finally realised he was looking in all the wrong places for his true love.
Rachel was right. His face did taste amazing. Eyes closed, lips meeting, hands fumbling to find the waist or the back and you feel like you're floating, soft and creamy with a hint of mint toothpaste, the slight prickle of a teenage stubble growing back after a long day at school and the occasional patch of hair gel that has dripped from a soft hand many hours before. We parted and looked at each other, for just a moment, me into his dreamy chocolate eyes and he into my depths of turquoise.
We lost the competition, but we won each other, as Blaine said. Having asked my dad's permission, which was given very reluctantly and under the strictest of guidelines, we were allowed a sleepover together. We practically ran up to my room, where I lay on my bed with his warm body over mine, kissing me softly while I returned each sentiment. His musky smell of stage lights, the faintest bit of sweat and the remains of his cologne lingered in the air slightly. We threw our blazers to the floor and pressed our bodies closer together, hoping that they would not be disturbed all night.