So Pavarotti's dead…
It's not Pavarotti this time.
What?
What is it, Kurt?
Quiver.
It's…
Wrong.
Kurt, something's wrong.
Nothing.
Try to breathe.
Desperation.
Please tell me.
Nothing.
Try to stop the tears.
Plea.
Kurt…
I take hold of his tense, shaking, tiny shoulders. I try to sway him, stir him slightly to get him to tell me what's wrong. When I move him he tries to draw in a breath, letting out this sad, musical little sob.
God.
Nothing can fix this old problem.
I look at Blaine and my eyes fill with tears again because he's never been near me like this, at this time, on this night of that day. My heart breaks and I feel embarrassment crawl up my back and wrap an arm around my neck.
Close.
If I don't get to him, wherever he's gone, I might cry, too.
I draw Kurt in between my legs, tangled in the sheets of his bed. His bones crash into a pile in my arms and he lays his forehead on my heart. I wrap my arms around him, smell his hair.
Try.
I need to help Blaine. I can't let him suffer just because I'm suffering. I muster the courage to look up into his sleep heated face, his flushed cheeks, and have to force myself to disregard the tears that form a barrier on top of my eyes again. I'll be able to see in a second…
Overcome.
It may be wrong. It may be selfish. But I can't help myself.
I pull him closer, wrap my arms tighter, enclose my legs around him. My nose glances off the tip of his, drawing up and down the beautiful slope. I kiss him lightly, tender.
Pain.
A different kind of pain. A… good kind. My heart feels like it's being squeezed, stabbed. It beats erratically in my chest as Blaine pulls me toward his body like a new appendage. I grab for his relief from this night that I've never had before. Never known before. Our lips touch again and again, growing in strength of awareness. I rest my hands on his chest, feeling the muscles tense underneath his shirt. My fingers draw up his neck as our mouths create art. I feel his tongue glide across mine, our lips hot. His hands slide under my shirt.
Relief.
Momentary relief. This adorable, beautiful boy in my arms graciously gives me relief from my own thoughts. He works magic through his touches, fluttering across me. I guide him down under the blankets and were in our own world.
Love.
I know I feel it. I have it. I love him.
I love you.
Ecstasy.
I love you, too.
Thank you.
Thank you, who ever you are, for letting me be here with Blaine. Thank you for giving me comfort from this nightmare.
Realization.
Kurt?
I flatten my hands on his, almost covering them completely. My fingers dive and wrap through his. He kisses me and it sends electricity through my stomach- into my spine.
It is your mom… This time, I mean.
Anniversary.
Reality crashes down around me. For a moment I'm tormented all over again, stricken with sickening grief. But I look toward Blaine. His hair hanging over his eye, his face filled with sorrow.
I push my head under his chin, breathing carefully. Thoroughly. Methodically. To keep the panic down.
It's alright.
I tell him. And it will be. I won't let him go.
Thank you for reading. Seriously. I love Glee and reviews bring me glee. What a coincidence!
Happy Reading,
Simplybofa