Reaper: OH GOD, AM I EVEN ALLOWED TO DO THIS? CREATE A NEW STORY (for a new fandom no less) WITHOUT WORKING ON MY OTHER ONES? KAEFSFSDKJFSKDH SORRY! I COULDN'T HELP IT. I got this idea after drawing a picture of a little stuffed Blaine being held by a hand (Kurt's). YEAH. SO YEAH. YEAH.
Hi. For those who don't know me, I am Reaper. I usually start a story, work on it for a while, then leave it to die forever. FOREVER. Nah, just until I lose interest in it. BUT I WON'T. I WON'T MAN. I WON'T. Anyways, this is a KLAINE story, so hopefully you enjoy it. Oh, and I have a horrible time pacing stories. So yeah.
"Bye Blaine."
Honey colored buttons watched as the lithe figure of a boy walked up the stairs of the grey and white basement room, their footsteps light and soundless. Once the door closed the honey colored eyes twinkled and sparkled.
He's gone to school, then, a small plush toy thought from their spot on the bed in the room. The plush toy, maybe the size of two hands, was laying on a stack of pillows, the covers pulled up to their chin affectionately. Black, curly yarn covered their slightly tan covered fabric head, their button eyes huge and circular, black little triangles for eyebrows sewn over his button-eyes. A pink, small 'u' mouth was sewn into the face with thin thread, giving the impression of a smiling mouth. The body, which was short and stubby and over-all fluffy, was covered in a yellow short sleeved shirt, red pants, and brown little nubs for shoes. A purple bow-tie was sewn into the shirt, which looked faded and worn.
Have a nice day at school….Kurt.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Kurt hummed to himself as he drove down the road, heading to school. He wasn't pleased to be going to school, per say, but more of what was at school. Glee club, Mercedes, Finn, Glee club, French class – did he mention Glee club?
Pulling into the parking lot of his school, Kurt turned his car off. He gripped the steering wheel, breathing in through his nose. He closed his eyes, leaning his head forward until his forehead was resting against the leather of the wheel. A knock on his car window startled him, his front snap up straight. He turned, with wide eyes, to the window.
"HI!" Rachel chirped as loud as was possible, waving franticly to the boy. Finn stood beside her awkwardly, rubbing his arm with his free hand. He gave a nervous smile to the boy, who ignored him as he shuffled out of his car. Kurt glanced to Rachel, seeing her sweater, and rolled his eyes.
"Only you, Rachel. Only you," he spoke to the girl, who furrowed her eyebrows as she trailed after Kurt, Finn following behind them.
Time to start class.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"Oh!"
The little boy's blue eye – a blue so clear and perfect and so, so, so sky-like – sparkled in joy as his tiny, pale skinned hands reached for the object of his attention. A bell-chime laugh rung in the air and the perspective changed as a woman came into view, sitting at a plastic tiny table.
"Do you like him? He was looking for a new home and mommy thought he'd like to come live with us. He needs a new name, since he changed family. What will you name him Kurt?" The woman asked to the angel-like boy with brown hair and innocent eyes that could only see the good in people.
The boy stared long and hard at the doll, taking in his curly black hair, triangle eyebrows, pink smile, and fluffy body.
"Hi, I'm Kurt. What's your name?" Kurt asked in a shy, sweet voice, his cheeks red with joy.
Blaine.
"How proper," the mother giggled and smiled when a man joined her side, taking her hand.
I'm Blaine.
"Have you got a name?" Kurt asked, tilting his head to the side. He leaned in closer to the doll and allowed his eyes to flutter close, bringing the doll's mouth to his ear.
Blaine.
Kurt pulled back, his eyes still closed. His smile fell into a thoughtful straight line, his eyebrows pinching together in concentration.
Finally they snapped open and they stared directly into the honey colored button-eyes, his own blue swirling with understanding.
"His name is Blaine," Kurt spoke with a sure voice, his tone leaving no room for disagreement. The doll felt a jolt in its stuffing. If the doll were real, his eyes would have popped out of their sockets.
"Hi Blaine. Nice to meet you," Kurt spoke and gave the doll a peck on the thread lips.
Hello Kurt. Nice to meet you too, the doll thought as he was tucked comfortably in the lap of the boy as the three (now four) member family played in the yard.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Gravity seemed to slip from Kurt as his world titled, the cold bite of the locker allowing him to remember that this was in fact reality. He slammed hard into the metal surface, groaning softly as he slid to his knees. He had hit face first. He winced as he brought a hand up, gingerly touching his lip.
Hands wrapped around his forearm and he was hauled to his feet, hands grabbing his cheeks roughly as Puck and Santana checked him. Mercedes was in his face, tilting his head this way and that. Her face was dark in silent rage, her hands trembling.
"Damn that stupid white boy," the black diva hissed under her breath as Kurt stepped back, waving their concerning hands away from him.
"I'm fine," he spoke, the words falling from his lips on auto-pilot. Santana, Puck, and Mercedes gave him disbelieving looks but didn't speak after seeing the smile on Kurt's face. He was tired, his smile showed that.
They headed down the hall towards the choir room, Mercedes and Kurt linking arms while walking. They sunk into a conversation of fashion until it was time to get to work.
Kurt watched as Rachel received yet another solo and couldn't help the bitter frown that appeared on his lips for a second. He gave a sigh and closed his eyes, tilting his head down as a headache banged against him. His cheek and lip ached, no doubt from being slammed into a locker.
Kurt opened his eyes and glanced at the clock.
For once, he just wanted to get home and snuggle in bed with his childhood stuffed toy, Blaine.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Footsteps sounded and Blaine could only sit in stillness as Kurt trudged down the stairs, looking as tired as a dead person. He moved to the bed, not even bothering to change, before plopping down on the mattress and hugging Blaine to his chest.
Blaine lay in the teen's arms, wishing more than anything to wrap his arms around the boy as soft, broken sobs escaped his precious angel's throat.
If Blaine had an actual heart, no doubt it'd be in a billion pieces.
It'd be broken again and again before he couldn't help it – he was useless. All he could do was soak up the tears of the one he loved so desperately.
Silence fell after an hour of sobs, Kurt's breathing evening out. Blaine, honey eyes a shade darker than usual, lay facing the boy.
He loved his Kurt.