Same as every day, golden eyes fluttered open at approximately seven a.m., bright and ready for the new day. Kurt stretched, the only movement he cared to make just yet, and banished all sleepiness and lethargy from his muscles. Then, he tensed, and with a bamf and explosion of sulfurous smoke, he was gone. His pajamas, still laid out under the blankets in the form of his body, were the only thing that remained to show he had even been there.
The same cloud exploded in his tiny shower, bringing him with it. The bathroom was attached to his room and not far away at all, but there was no fun in getting up and walking there, undressing, and generally doing things the normal way. Kurt much preferred his method, even though it took considerably more energy.
He showered quickly, though it took him awhile to dry the short, thin pelt of fur that covered his body. Blow dryers were loud, annoying, and only made him sweat, but he loathed being wet, so he had to work a bit harder and longer, using two towels, to make sure that he absorbed all of the water that covered him. After that, it didn't take him long at all to brush his teeth and attempt to tame his hair, adding a bit of product and combing the wild, robust curls. They would air dry on their own.
Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his waist to head back to his room to get dressed. It wasn't really necessary, but when one lived with a best friend who could phase through walls, one tended to be careful to protect one's modesty. He went through the rest of his routine: dressing, applying cologne, and gathering up his homework and textbooks when something odd caught his eye. A small, off-white envelope sat on his desk, sealed and with his name written in a hasty script.
He didn't recognize the handwriting, but it was of no alarm to him. He lived in a school, with people who could pick locks and walk through doors. It just didn't seem that odd, so he plucked it up with his tail, his hands busy replacing the hangers that formerly held his clothes, and slid the tip of the spade underneath the flap to open it. Inside was folded stationery, of the same off-white coloring and with dark indentations that indicated writing on the other side. Kurt transferred the paper to his hands and plopped down on his bed to read it, imagining it was probably a joke or means of 'secret' communication from a friend. He was wrong. Within a few seconds, his eyebrows had knitted together so close that they threatened to become a unibrow and concern darkened the golden irises that matched their sclera. His chest rose and fell quickly beneath the crisp white button-up and red vest he'd carefully adorned himself with earlier, and he felt tears filling the lower lids of his normally bright eyes.
His mind raced as he read, dropping the first page to read the second, then the third and fourth, and when he finished, he sat there dumbfounded, simply staring at the last word on the page.
Avel.
Kurt's tail was uncharacteristically still, his whole body motionless as if he had turned to stone. A tear or two managed to fall without breaking his stupor, only the sound of the crinkling and tearing of paper jerked him from his catatonia. Underneath his dark fur, his knuckles had been turning white from the tightness with which he grasped that single sheet of stationery, and unintentionally, he had ripped it. He pounced into action, falling on his knees as he tried to make the paper mend itself, but for all of his efforts in pushing the pieces of the tiny tear together, it just would not stick.
He couldn't believe he'd damaged something so precious, but then again, part of him wanted to pull at the small rip and widen it, shred the whole thing to pieces. He couldn't accurately describe the whirlwind of emotions raging in his chest. Anger, betrayal, hope, hurt, fear…they were only a few. Kurt was convinced he didn't have a word, out of all of the languages he knew, to describe how he really felt.
Knock, knock, knock.
He nearly jumped through the roof.
"Kurt?" Piotr's voice came muffled through the door. "You are late for breakfast. Mr. Cassidy sent me to find you. Are you all right?"
The poor, blue German boy finally found his voice, shaky though it was. "Ja, I'll be right down." He cleaned up the papers in a rush, though his oversized fingers were careful not to damage the scattered pieces any further. Shoving them into their envelope, he dumped them in his desk drawer and turned to join the others at breakfast.
…
Kurt couldn't get the letter off his mind all day. He was distracted during his classes, although he was certain that he should have been paying attention because the first tests of the semester were coming up soon. Of course he wouldn't be able to concentrate all day, not with what he'd learned this morning. He was still struggling, of course, and even wondering if it was real. It could be some cruel prank, but it was so thorough. It answered so many questions, and he really wanted to believe that this was real and the man behind it was genuine, but he'd been burned before. He didn't trust Avel just because he had written some pretty words on paper.
…
"Kurt? Hello, is anyone in there?" Kitty rapped her knuckles softly across his curls-cushioned skull. "You've been zoned out all day. What's the matter?"
So much was the matter, but he simply smiled and took a bite of his lunch. "Nothing. Just didn't rest well last night, I suppose. I think I will just head to my room after classes, maybe take a nap."
"Are you sure you aren't sick?" Kitty frowned. "You never take naps."
"I do sometimes." Kurt responded, taking his half-full plate to the trash can and letting his uneaten leftovers slide off.
For Kitty, that was a red flag. First he's talking about taking a nap, second, he wasn't eating. He was her best friend, and she knew he usually went back for seconds; he never left food on his plate. "I think you need to go see Dr. McCoy."
"I am just going to head up to my room for a bit until lunch is over, maybe lie down for a few minutes. I will see you later, Kitty." With that, Kurt disappeared into his signature cloud of smoke, punctuating his exit with a bamf.
He reappeared in his room, eyes filled with tears. It seemed that he had been focusing on a different part of the letter throughout the day, fixating on a new topic for a time before another one consumed his mind. This one was particularly bothersome.
"She didn't want me." He whispered in German, dropping gracefully into a crouch and staring at the wall in front of him. "I was too strange even for her." Burying his face into what he currently considered misshapen hands, he cried.
…
Kurt disappeared into his room after classes, pondering all that he had learned today. He couldn't get it off his mind. Sitting down at his desk, he read and reread the letter, hoping that familiarity would magically bring some form of clarity about what he should do. It didn't.
Finally, he took out one of his notebooks and grabbed a pen, then proceeded to stare at the blue-lined pages for what seemed like hours. He had so much to say, yet no words came. He busied himself with homework, working through algebraic equations and reading chapter reviews, before coming back to the previous task of writing a letter. He still had no idea what to write.
Homework again, then an attempt at letter-writing, then back to homework, and letter-writing again. It continued on and on until he was actually ahead in his schoolwork and exhausted from the overwhelming emotions that had been storming inside him all day. He decided it was time for bed.