Golden sunshine poured in through the window. A lazy boy took no notice, pulling his blankets back over his head, avoiding the sunlight attempting to fall back into the endless world of winding and whirling dreams. Consciousness brought a flood of thoughts that he wanted to avoid, a spiral of ideas and words that never ceased spinning. Even in paradise, he was halted by his spinning mind.
Alas, his attempt at falling back into the world of dreams was stopped by his alarm clock, an echo of the world around him that required so much of his attention. This world was not so dreadful; there were good things that grew from it, such as a possible boyfriend, a warm bed, and music. However, there were also negative things that threatened his every day existence. Hate manifested itself in human nature, how this happened Blaine was unsure of. He was also wary of that Mathematics exam and the grade he had gotten on it. Yet, his deepest fear was a small voice in the back of his mind, the voice of doubt, that the boy he had recently met would not return his feelings.
Yet, who was Blaine to rush head over heels into a relationship? Was that not a recipe for disaster? He had this horrible feeling, one that consumed every fiber of his being, that in the end he and Kurt would not work out. Blaine would review his own internal flaws under a microscope in the tiniest corners of his head. He had come to irrational conclusions, such as that he lacked romantic tendencies and possessed too cliché of a personality to ever take part in a successful relationship. He concluded that Kurt was everything he was not, a brave soul rather than a coward who fled at the slightest hint of mockery. They shared taste in Vogue Magazine Covers and both had interests in similar topics, yet Blaine could not pull himself from thinking that there was a canyon gap between himself and Kurt.
These thoughts were the exact reason that Blaine wanted to hide under his covers and stay in his dream world, where he was free to fall in love without struggle and wear two different shoes without being ridiculed. He could eat Red Vines forever without consequence while singing and strumming in a dimly lit café, directing his music towards a certain someone.
Oh the real world, how boring it was.
His life was not dull, but it was not eventful. The line was faintly drawn on the plane where boredom and average coincided. Dalton made things easy, blocked out prejudice, and allowed Blaine to focus on what he was truly passionate about. Well, he could focus on everything he loved excluding a certain someone who seemed to truly need him as a crutch, perhaps more but perhaps not.
Well a guy could hope, right?
Right. A guy could also hope to get a passing mark on a calculus exam he didn't study for. He could hope, but would that mean anything except that Blaine was somewhat of an idealist? Nope. His hopes were about as powerful as a level one Jigglypuff against a level 100 Mew.
He rolled over and reached for his phone on the nightstand. He touched the smooth wood and his fingers bumped into the alarm clock, which was now playing a quiet Jack Johnson song and read 12:43 PM. He sighed, Blaine couldn't remember a time where he didn't think Jack Johnson was fantastic. He backed his music with emotion and a fantastic acoustic strumming. Moving from the alarm clock, Blaine's fingers quietly walked across the table's edges looking for a phone. With a lazy opening of eyelids, Blaine propped himself up upon taking notice that his phone was no longer on the nightstand. He slowly moved his arms around the sheets and various blankets of his bed until he came across the device he was looking for. It had been right under his side pillow the entire time. Making a mental note to not sleep with his phone on his pillow again, Blaine quickly woke up his electronic to find a new text message.
What a pleasant way to wake up, with a whirling head and an awaiting text.
Clumsy fingers pushed a series of buttons, allowing Blaine to view his message. His heart fluttered for a mere second at the sight of the sender's name: Kurt. He read it allowed in a hushed whisper before putting his hand over his face and letting out a sigh of relief.
The text gave his buzzing hummingbird of a head a chance to rest before taking off into flight once again. It had simply stated that Kurt wanted to see Blaine and perhaps go and get a coffee to escape the sudden onset of the bitter Ohio cold. With a slight smile, Blaine pulled himself away from the warmth of his bed; quickly wishing he could stay in the cocoon of blankets. Was the heater broken? He doubted it. He had just left his fan on during the night.
Blaine stumbled over his bedroom floor looking for something, anything, to wear. He didn't want to look like a slob, so the jeans he wore yesterday were out of the question, however, he didn't want to look like he was trying far to hard. That would send bad messages to the subject of his admiration, a subject whose feelings were unknown. Blaine staggered to his closet, searching for clothing. After running his hands over many shirts, he chose a navy plaid crew neck sweater-a gift from his mother-and a pair of darkly washed jeans. He slipped on a pair of socks; he thought they were brown, and pulled on a pair of loafers. Simple yet somehow fashionable. Somehow. He grabbed a pea coat and walked down the stairs, for it was Thanksgiving Break and he refused to remain at school during break, as Dalton had no similarity to Hogwarts during the festive breaks of the year. Therefore, Dalton was an utter bore (one without much electricity) during the break and Blaine chose to go home.
As his foot hit the last step, Blaine removed his phone from his pocket and dialed his far away friend.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
The phone kept ringing until Blaine heard a click on the other line.
"Hello, this is Kurt Hummel." Even the countertenor's speaking voice made Blaine smile.
"Hey Kurt, it's me Blaine. Don't you check caller ID, dork? More importantly, do you want to go get something to drink?" Blaine's voice journeyed from friendly to playful and back to friendly.
Far away in Lima, Kurt's baby face lit up with a slight joy. Although Kurt was attending Dalton Academy, he spent his little free time divided equally amongst his family and the boy who he would follow into the dark without question. He shared Blaine's doubts about the foundation of a relationship, but in a lesser way. He still had a flutter of hope that his mentor, his guide, and his most relatable friend could one day become something more.
"Well, you see Blaine, I was deeply involved in the reading of Kristin Chenoweth's new autobiography." This had been a gift Carole had picked up for Kurt while a trip to Barnes and Noble to find a study guide for Finn. She knew of his infatuation with Wicked.
"Well, I see that this is far more important than little old me. My feelings are so hurt Kurt! You're going to have to make it up to me." Blaine smirked on his end of the line. Kurt suddenly felt his stomach turn into a butterfly garden. Blaine had to be flirting. Blaine just had to be flirting and Blaine was flirting, utilizing every suave bone in his body.
"Well, I guess you'll just have to meet me in an hour at the usual Starbucks. If you don't, well, then you'll owe me." Kurt let out a small giggle, one that was almost inaudible. Oh how Kurt hoped it was inaudible. By Blaine's return chuckle, Kurt realized the curly haired boy had heard it in full.
"See you then." With that, Blaine smoothed his curls into something stylish and hopped in his car and drove towards one fantastic afternoon with one fantastic friend.