Work was hectic, more so than usual. Ever since Simple Sweets finally got that commercial to air, swarms of customers have been coming around the block to taste the new raspberry delight cupcake. Oh please, that cupcake had been selling here ever since the shop first opened. Waiting tables is undoubtedly a very tedious job, but Blaine knew it was all going to pay off, you can't just become a star overnight, right?
Being a struggling artist-in-the-making, Blaine suffered through a lot of things. Yes the pay was low and the rent was high, but he was free now, finally able to make his own decisions, and he found that more satisfying than the yacht parties his parents always forced him on.
Blaine pulled tighter on the thick scarf around his neck as he walked outside of the little cafe. "It's cold today," he quietly told himself while rubbing his calloused hands together. His breath came in little puffs of white air.
The weather was chilly, not enough for snow, but enough for the use of heavy winter wear. Nightfall already arrived as he began walking home. The stars were covered by a thick blanket of fog, yet it was still a beautiful night. The lamplights illuminated down on the pavement as a plethora of red, brown, and yellow leaves collected at his feet. Feeling relaxed and at ease, Blaine strolled onto the park- his usual shortcut home.
He then began walking on the pavement, the only sound being his quiet humming and the crunching of dried leaves, and suddenly he heard a small noise. A groan, or a whimper most likely. The noise was heard behind a large pine tree. Blaine moved cautiously toward the strange sound, uncertain of what making that noise. He really wasn't ready to get his face clawed off by a wild animal.
But his eyes widened in surprise as he realized it wasn't an animal at all- it was a person.
...
A man to be exact. He looked just about Blaine's age, if not younger. His head was lying on his knees which were pulled up to his chest and he was shivering excessively. From the little light the streetlamps gave off, Blaine still could clearly see the dark splatters of blood on the young man's light purple hoodie as well as the damp locks of chestnut colored hair that stuck on his temples slick with sweat.
Blaine had an impulse to grab the man and help him in some way, but from what the health text books taught him back him high school is that he should never touch an injured person unless absolutely necessary.
"Are.. are you okay," Blaine asked, almost inaudibly. The figure began to stir slightly, only to give a pained moan. "I'm gonna call an ambulance okay?" Blaine said, his voice losing its usual composure.
"I thought this only happened in movies," Blaine said, biting his lip as he hastily pulled out his phone. It wasn't everyday Blaine saw a bloodied person leaning against a tree.
"No! Don't call... I'll be fine..," a small pleading voice said with difficulty. Blaine lowered his phone as he kneeled in front of the chestnut haired man. "Are you crazy," Blaine whispered, even though they were probably the only two people at the park at that moment.
"Just...Just leave me alone. I said I'll be fine," the voice argued, his breath shaky and uneven.
"Are you crazy?" Blaine said, this time much louder than a small whisper. "You're at a park in the middle of the night bleeding yourself to death, and you just expect me to leave you alone?"
Blaine started panicking, right now he was screaming at a complete stranger and whether he liked it or not, he was now a part of this situation. From the looks of it, this boys condition would only worsen if left alone. He could have just left, only to find a news report about the death of a young brown haired man. Screw that.
Blaine decided he wasn't going to let someone die tonight.
...
The bloody boy lay motionless on the tree for a while as Blaine was contemplating on what to do. He really should have just called an ambulance and have the peramedics take over, but he had this deep tugging feeling from the deep recesses of his brain that told him not to.
Blaine laid the back of his hand on the younger male's forehead. Although the night was unmistakably cold, his forehead was burning up. "Fever," Blaine muttered.
As gently as he possibly could, he picked up the brown haired man.
"I said.. don't-," the man said, but Blaine cut him off. The stranger gave a helpless sigh and let Blaine carry him. He was tired, Blaine noticed, at least too tired to fight back.
Even with the poorly lit area, Blaine still caught himself staring face to face with the wounded boy. His eyes were a deep shade of gray with a hint of bluish green. They looked hopeless and tired, his eyes having dark bags below them. At the same time, Blaine had never seen a color so amazing. His face had a pinkish hue, probably from the fever and his lips were quivering as his whole body shivered. He curled into Blaine, reaching for warmth.
"I'm not going to take you to the hospital," Blaine paused for a moment, wondering what to say.
"But I am going to help you," Blaine said, his voice strained and uneven.
"Although I don't know why," he thought to himself. The man shuddered as Blaine carried the stranger to his house. A few minutes of walking and the stranger in his arms already managed to fall asleep.
...
Blaine was crazy, he was definitely crazy. Not a lot of people walk into their apartment dragging along a sleeping bloody body in a purple hoodie. Blaine fumbled with his keys as he tried to juggle opening his apartment door and fumbling with the young males weight.
His apartment was small, yet cozy. He organized the place to give off the illusion of looking a bit more spacious, but underneath it all, it was just a small one room apartment. He laid the body gingerly on his bed, not caring that his bed sheets and jacket might now be dotted with blood.
To his surprise, his jacket wasn't stained with a brownish red like he expected it to be, the blood on the hoodie had dried. Blaine took off the blood soaked purple hoodie slowly, not wanting to wake the young man. What he saw underneath shocked him.
The man was wearing a white shirt underneath, his arms now clearly visible. The skin was porcelain like, pale and alabaster colored. His skin would have been silky and beautiful if not for the discolored track marks that were placed on the inside of his arms. The cuts and wounds were small, yet deep enough to draw blood. The cuts were tiny and uneven, miniscule red crescent moon shaped makings looking vaguely like fingernail marks were trailed along both his arms. Long thin streaks of dried blood flowed from the crescent scars all the way to his wrists. Blaine also noted the bruises on various spots on his arms, new ones and old.
Blaine winced, even if this wasn't his body the vivid grotesque display in front of him made it not very hard to imagine how the pain felt. He didn't notice how long he was staring at the boy until he heard a loud thud on the floor. An object fell from the pocket of the purple jacket he was holding. Whatever it was it had a black leather casing, still in pretty good condition yet worn down with time. Inside the case was a phone, an old version of the iPhone to be exact. On the back of the leather case, the name KURT HUMMEL was etched in gold glittered text.
"Huh. So your name is Kurt," he muttered softly, looking down at the sleeping man.
...
Blaine gulped, was it considered rape if he took off a persons clothes without their consent? Blaine didn't know, his mind wasn't focusing properly after today's events, but one thing was for certain, he needed to get Kurt out of these clothes. His shirt was dirty and damp with feverish sweat
It turns out, it's quite hard to strip a person when they're unconscious. It was as if Blaine was working with rubber limbs.
He actually had quite a bit of trouble getting Kurt's shirt off. After Kurt's fever started breaking, his skin became damp with sweat, which made the thin material cling onto the younger boys skin even more. The pants were also quite difficult, since they were incredibly tight. But with a matter of minutes Blaine managed to slide them off successfully. He left the boxers on. He seriously did not want the whole thing to look like a rape scene when Kurt woke up.
The flesh underneath the plain cotton white shirt was beautiful. It was clear, white, and soft looking. The only thing that marred this perfection were the red marks that went from his neck all the way down below his boxers.
His legs were another story. Kurt's thighs had an uncountable amount of scars, most of them looking self inflicted. Blaine seemed enthralled as he instinctively ran his thumb along one of the larger scars on Kurt's outer thigh. It was a fading cut, but it was still deep and dark red. Blaine imagined the blade kissing Kurt's soft skin, blood running slowly down his milky white thighs. He immediately pulled his hand away as Kurt began to stir. Blaine turned bright red, snapping out of his previous thoughts.
That was close..
...
Blaine stayed beside Kurt for quite some time. He noticed that the only pure unscathed part of his body was his face. Kurt's cheeks were still a little flushed and his pink lips were slighly parted. Blaine found himself blushing yet again.
He placed a slightly damp face towel on Kurt's forehead. His temperature was almost normal and he was no longer shivering. Blaine looked at Kurt and sighed.
Why did I even bring him here...This is crazy..I'm going crazy..
A drop of water from the face towel slipped slowly down Kurt's face. Blaine brushed it away with his thumb, gently touching his skin as one would touch a porcelain doll.
He was getting sleepy, he looked at the clock as it read 2:30 a.m.
Damn. Did I really stay up that late?
Blaine decided it was time to go to sleep and made a makeshift bed out of thick blankets and pillows. He made the his sleeping nest beside his bed where Kurt was currently residing in. He laid down on his mass of blankets, the soft fabric feeling nice and inviting on his skin. Sleep was taking over him completely
"Goodnight Kurt," Blaine murmured as his eyes grew heavier.
...
Blaine woke up with the sun shining annoyingly bright. The fog from last night had obviously disappeared to be replaced by gleaming rays of yellow sunshine. He groaned as one of those rays of sunlight moved onto his eyes. Blaine pulled the covers on his face and attempted to go back to sleep on the hard and uncomfortable floor- then he remembered.
"Kurt-" he said suddenly.
He automatically shot up from his sleeping position and looked around the room. His bed was vacant, the sheets were folded neatly on top of the mattresses as if a magical house cleaning fairy suddenly came by. The purple hoodie placed next to the study table was now gone, and so was any trace of Kurt. Blaine felt confused and kind of lousy, like all of this was a weird dream he had made up.
Blaine walked into the bathroom to wash the sleepiness out of his eyes, hoping to recall the events that happened last night. From the corner of his eyes he noticed his blue and white striped bath towel hanging on his shower door. He touched it, feeling the light dampness of the cloth. But what really caught his eyes were the little bloodstains that were left on it. It wasn't much actually, just a few spots of blood here and there, but it was proof.
He rushed back to his room, trying to find further clues of his investigation. He scanned the room quickly for a couple of seconds, and suddenly his eyes widened.
There it was, right on top of the mahogany study table where he left it last night. It was a leather cell phone case with the words KURT HUMMEL written in golden glitter.
...
People just don't disappear like that...
Blaine began yet another boring day at work. It's late afternoon and the swarms of customers have decreased a bit, leaving a calmer atmosphere in the little cafe.
He reaches a hand in his pocket, old leather greeting his finger tips as he makes sure Kurt's phone is safely within reach. He feels stupid, it's been almost a week since the incident and Blaine still carried the thing around. He can't even use it since it was locked. He spent the whole week trying to guess the password, only to end up in failure.
"Blaine.. Blaine.. BLAINE!" a high pitched bubbly voice calls out. A girl with hair the color of ripe strawberries snaps her fingers impatiently in front of Blaines face.
"Oi! I've been trying to get your attention for like five whole seconds!"
"Sorry Allison- I was just thinking of something," Blaine said, still in deep thought. "What do you want?"
"Can you cover for me? Just for tonight? Pretty pretty pretty please?," she asks, batting her hugh green eyes.
"What! No way! I already have to wait like ten tables!" Blaine whines.
"But your shift is almost over for today and I have something I really really have to do! Aren't you my friend Blaine? Friends are supposed to help each other you know."
Blaine rolled his eyes. "The last time you "helped" me, it ended up with me walking home with whipped cream on my face," Blaine shudders, recalling the horrid memory.
"Yea, but that woman was a bitch and you know it," Allison huffed.
Blaine sighed. "Fine, I'll cover for you, but just for today!"
The red haired girl squealed, her bright green eyes gleaming with gratitude. "Thank you, thank you, thank youuuu!"
"You owe me one Alli," Blaine said, with mock seriousness. "I'm only doing this because I love you."
"I love you too I love you so so so so so much!" she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "I'm going to have your babies someday Blaine, and we're going to be the proud parents of little Obamaniqua and Blaine Jr," she said, grabbing her gray overcoat and blowing Blaine a kiss goodbye. He pretended to catch it before she hastily walked out of the cafe entrance.
...
The cafe was nearly empty, only a few people inhabited the white tables covered with red gingham cloth. Some of them were typing on their laptops, only here for the free wifi connection. It was thirty minutes until closing time when Blaine heard the door opening. He was in the kitchen, currently cleaning up early so he wouldn't have to deal with the mess later. He popped his head from out of the kitchen to give the late customer a menu. The customer was currently seated in the area which Allison usually covered, and even from the kitchen Blaine could see the light brown hair from the other side of the cafe. His heart stopped.
Blaine, there are a billion people in this world with brown hair...It's not him..
He swallowed, his throat dry. The haircut was so similar. Everything about him was so familiar. Blaine walked faster trying to get a glimpse at the young male sitting at table number 20. After clumsily running into a few tables, he was finally a couple feet away from the table when his breath hitched.
It was him. Kurt Hummel, in the flesh.
He looked exactly how Blaine remembered him, except with nicer, less bloodier clothes. He wore a thick black (yet stylish) turtle neck, along with dark blue skinny jeans and his gray pea coat was placed on a nearby chair beside him. He looked tired, his left elbow placed on a table and his hands covering his eyes. The usual I have the biggest fucking headache look.
"W-would you like a menu sir," Blaine stammered, his voice sounding sounding alien to him. His heart hammered in his chest so loudly, he was sure it was going to combust.
"Coffee. Black please," Kurt murmured lethargically. His plam was still on his face, not bothering to even glance up at the dark haired waiter that was serving him.
Blaine turned his heel and hastily headed towards the kitchen, his heart dropping.
He dosen't remember you Blaine. But then again, he didn't actually look at you.
The coffee accidentally spilled while Blaine was still deep in thought. Bitter caffeine was overflowing on the edges of the white mug. Blaine cursed and almost dropped the mug altogether, his hand now scorched with the hot beverage. He slammed the cup down the counter and ran his hand under cold water.
"Keep it together Blaine," he told himself calmly. "Just go and bring him the damn coffee."
Blaine wiped the edges of the mug, focusing his eyes at the dark color of the coffee.
His hands trembled as he carried the more than filled coffee mug towards Kurt. The coffee on the verge of spilling.
He took a deep breath.
"Umm," he said nervously, eyeing the younger male. Kurt looked up, his eyes weary.
"What is it?," Kurt replied in a tired voice.
"Would you happen to be Kurt Hummel?" Blaine said , biting his bottom lip.
Kurt's eyes widened. It was him, the person who helped him in the park. The unruly mass of curly black hair he once woke up to see was now gelled back in a neat coiffure and he almost looked like a different person. The waiter looked at him nervously, waiting for a reply.
"Yes, I'm Kurt," he replied in a bewildered tone.
Blaine's literally felt like screaming, but he didn't want to scare the brown haired man so he kept the girl squeals inside his head. Kurt stared at him, his expression surprised. Blaine reached down his right pocket and pulled something out, almost dropping it in the process.
"You left this at my house."
Kurt's phone was placed in front of him, in the same condition he saw it a week ago. Leather case and all. Kurt raised an eyebrow.
"You carry my phone around with you," Kurt said slowly, pocketing his phone securely in his pea coat.
Blaine blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well... just in case I ever, you know. Saw you again," he said uncomfortably.
Both of them were silent for a second, knowing that the turn of events that they have both encountered were extremely rare. They were still, time suspended at the moment, until Blaine remembered the weight on his right hand.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I forgot. Here's your drink," Blaine said sheepishly, setting down the steaming cup of coffee. Kurt reached for it.
"It's on the house," Blaine added, with a smile.
"I can pay for it," Kurt said abruptly. His mouth was pressed in a tight line with an annoyed look at his face.
"Take it," Blaine urged. "It's from a friend," Blaine said, giving a quick wink. He left Kurt, giving the young man time to drink his coffee in peace.
As Blaine slowly walked back to the kitchen, he realized just how stupid that last line must have sounded. He barely knew the boy and Kurt didn't know him either. They weren't friends, they were complete strangers.
...
Blaine came back to table number 20 about several minutes later. To his surprise, Kurt was gone, all traces of the brunette- gone. His coffee was untouched and a crisp five dollar bill was placed under it.
...
This will probably switch to Kurt's P.O.V. in the next chapter, having more Klaine interaction. I will most likely change the rating to M later on due to adult themes.
*sorry if some of the spelling or grammar is off, please don't be hesitant to ask me if anything sounds off.
Reviews are love :)