The Christmas spirit grabbed me at two in the morning, sat me down, and told me to write this. After struggling to write anything, for ages, this was so easy. Hopefully it wasn't just easy because it's terrible. Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and sweet dreams~
She walked into the halls of McKinley High School just as gracefully as she did everything else. The new kid from New York, the oddity, with a low voice, for a girl, and charisma that practically danced around her, visible to the naked eye.
And if anyone saw something off in how she walked, well, those were pretty high boots. And if anyone noticed something odd in her voice, well, New Yorkers all talked weird, right?
These were things to scrutinize and accuse later, when the seams started to show. But for now, everyone welcomed the new girl with smiles and maybe even a wink or two in the halls. She took it all gracefully, with a smile Kurt Hummel could only describe as show-stopping.
He was staring, he promised himself, because finally here came someone who understood fashion, who breathed it like he did. Sure, maybe she didn't have quite the budget he did- because he refused to admit that the sweater was a designer he didn't recognize, it had to be a knock-off of some kind- but the styles hung off her, making her live in them in a way he hadn't quite perfected yet.
Even so. She was a girl. He shouldn't be staring.
And he managed to refrain from staring, until she knocked on the door to the choir room, five minutes into practice, and smiled shyly at them all, asking if this was glee club.
Her voice was loose and untrained, and Rachel scoffed quietly after a little added trill that wasn't in the original Broadway production, but her dancing was wild and riveting, and her voice was so real and filled her cover of Popular with just enough of her own personality spilling over. Which was impressive, as the song was already chalk-full of it's own personality. There was hardly a moment of silence between the end of the last note and the Glee Club standing up to offer their congratulations. Mr. Schuester had that look on his face usually reserved for perfected renditions of songs from his own childhood, and there was that show-stopping smile again.
Still, Kurt couldn't help but feel like he was missing something. Something huge, and critical, and obvious, even.
He shook it off as just hearing a song from his favorite musical sung in a lower key than he was used to, and shot the new girl a small smile, as he headed out.
Her gaze followed him all the way down the hallway, admiring both his designer jacket, and the small but strong shoulders that it fit perfectly.
He was so much braver than Angel could ever be.