A little reactionary drabble. Not great, but it was gnawing at me, so here it is.
I don't own Glee.
Blaine came with a soft cry and collapsed into his pillow.
Head fuzzy and heart beating fast, he wiped his hand carelessly on his comforter and breathed for a moment.
It was so quiet at night now. Even his house seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for what would happen next.
His phone didn't ring.
It almost never did anymore.
He missed Kurt. He missed his smile and the way he'd carefully clean them both up after sex. He missed the cute way Kurt would kiss the tip of his cock like it was something precious and easily breakable. He missed the feel of Kurt's hands skimming lightly over the hairs on his skin, his fingertips a delicious tease. He missed his laugh and his eyes and his attention.
Fuck.
Blaine tried to blink back the tears threatening to stream down his face, but he knew it was no use. For the past month he cried himself to sleep more often than he didn't. If he could fall asleep at all.
He was so fucking lonely.
He didn't remember feeling this isolated ever, not even as a kid. All he craved was a kind look, a gentle touch. He got one-sided phone calls that were always interrupted halfway through.
Blaine felt like he was breaking and he didn't know if there was anything he could do about it. He was afraid he'd make a mistake soon.
He knew he'd make a mistake soon.
All he wanted was Kurt.
His phone still didn't ring.
