Hiya fanfiction world! I haven't been on here (writing wise) in FOREVERRR! But I'm baaaack!
This idea came to me out of absolutely nowhere. I'm just sitting in my Spanish class (AKA: snorefest 2012) doodling the bass clef scale in my notebook and I think: "little!Kurt at a piano, meeting little!Blaine at his mothers funeral! MUST. WRITE. NAO."
Basically *cough*
Today I'm a little author's note abusive. Huh. Cool.
Alright, let's do this.
My tumblr URL is where-glasz-meets-hazel if you're interested
Summary: An 8 year old Kurt Hummel is isolating himself in the piano room at his mothers' funeral. He meets a certain curly-haired, bright-eyed boy. What happens next?
Disclaimer: would I be here if I owned glee? No. I'd be getting back the old writers and adding new writers from tumblr, getting back the old lighting, giving Brittany AND Tina lines, and tuning Finchel out for a while. It's basically 'The Finchel Show' now. I'd put more Klaine and Brittana in, and I'd get rid of…*shudders* pedo!Will. sheesh. That's a lot.
Enjoy your Kiddie!Klaine.
It Was Called Yellow
You're skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful
You know, you know I love you so
You know I love you so
Yellow-Coldplay
A young Kurt Hummel sits at the large grand piano, plunking at the white ivory keys in the dimly lit room of the funeral parlor. He's only 8, and his mother is dead, while his father is being comforted by close friends and family. At the burial a short hour ago, a boy, about his age, with glowing hazel eyes, caught his attention. The mysterious boy gave a short look of sorrow before turning back to his parents.
Kurt hears footsteps, small, cautious footsteps. He doesn't bother to stop with his piano clanking. The door opens, light echoing off the walls. It's the boy from earlier, his curly hair beginning to come out of its heavily-gelled state. He nears Kurt, a look of worry drawn into his innocent features.
"Hey. Why are you crying?" he asks, his hands twisting in concern. More tears fill Kurt's eyes as he opens his mouth to speak "My mommy. S-she's gone. Forever." His light, airy voice breaks as he gives into the tears, letting out a watery sob.
"Hey now, don't cry. Come here." The smaller boy pulls the fragile boy into a tight hug. Not a hug of pity, much like the hugs he's been receiving since his mom died, but one of comfort.
Electricity shoots through both of the young boys, and Kurt closes his eyes, soaking in the warmth and comfort. When he opens his eyes again, he's sobbing into a pair of tan, muscular arms, gently being rocked back and forth, soothing words whispering in his ear, and soft, warm lips pressed to his temple. "Shh baby, its okay, just a bad dream, its okay, I'm right here…"
"Blaine?" Kurt asks, his voice thick, but the sobs slowing. "Yes honey?" Blaine replies, hesitant and scared, because Kurt is really shaken up by this.
"Did you ever go to a funeral as a kid?" Kurt's question snaps Blaine out of his reverie, but the answer is almost immediate. "Twice. One for my grandmother and one for a very pretty woman my parents knew. Her name was-"
"Elizabeth." Kurt answers him, his eyes wide with shock and- was that hope? "How did you-wait, gah! How did you know?" Blaine was absolutely floored by this point, if he wasn't already. "She was my mother, and she died when I was 8. Her cancer spread really fast."
"Oh, Kurt, baby, I'm so sorry- wait a second. Were you the boy in the piano room?"
Kurt can only answer with a shaky nod and a small sob, before being wrapped in those arms again, gently being pulled back onto Blaine's bed. Minutes later, as the tears began to subside, his vision cleared and he snuggled into the comfortable position. Kurt began to enjoy the heat radiating off of Blaine's bare chest while they spooned, and soon begins to drift back off to sleep.
The last thing Kurt remembers before falling asleep was a light, intimate kiss to his bare shoulder, and Blaine murmuring into the skin: "You're still beautiful when you cry."
END