Story: How We Remember
Author: MikoAkako
Beta: None
Pairing: Seblaine (Or Blaine/OC if you prefer), Kurtofsky (If you're looking for it). Past-Klaine
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Kurt's words are taken directly from "Doctor Who," and I make no claim on them. Likewise, everything else is borrowed from glee. In short: I own nothing.
Summary: "The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. Good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant."
It started with a letter. Tears soaked Kurt's cheeks as he traced each letter of his name, so carefully written by a hand he would never forget. He never opened the envelope, hiding it in a stack of old mail and taking it out every day when he was sure he was alone and complete the ritual. As the weeks passed, the ink faded and became tear stained, but his hand never wavered.
It should have ended with that letter in the trash, and yet Kurt couldn't bring himself to throw it away. Every day he swore he would tear it to pieces. Every day it was placed with almost reverent hands back in its hiding place.
He could only keep it a secret for so long. He walked in the door one day and just knew his secret was out. It was evident in the harsh set of Finn's shoulders and the way Rachel's fingers dug into Finn's arm. They weren't even facing him yet, and for a brief moment he thought about turning around and walking out. They weren't his parents. He didn't have to answer to them. And yet he did.
They yelled at him for an eternity. The letter was waved carelessly in the air, handed back and forth, thrust in his face. They never let him touch it. His eyes followed it, imagining how it would feel to trace the letters, regretting that he had never opened it. Finally, when he thought he could no longer bear it, it was handed to him.
For a moment he was lost in the sheer beauty of the hand writing; the graceful curl of the l's and the almost careless crossing of t's and dotting of i's, marks seemingly tossed at random on the page. When he did read the words, there was no surprise. There was heartache, but no surprise. He shed fresh tears, careful not to mar the words. When the tears subsided, Rachel gave him a cup of tea and left him to his silence.
Kurt had no choice. His friends told him he did, but the thought of not going was impossible. When they tried to get him to explain, he would quirk his lips up in a thoughtful smile and just say it was something he had to do. He couldn't even explain to Dave; Dave who he loved so much. But Dave seemed to understand, offering to go along; an offer Kurt gratefully accepted.
It ended with a wedding. The affair was extravagant, just like the grooms. Kurt left Dave at their seats and went to find the writer of the letter that had started the whole thing. Blaine was fumbling with his bowtie, silly after so many years of wearing them. Kurt stepped forward, fingers steady, and did it for him, just as he had done so many days before school. There were a million words in Blaine's eyes when they met Kurt's. 'Thank you', 'It's been so long', 'I'm glad you came.' But only one past his lips. "Why?"
Kurt gave him the same half smile he had given his friends for weeks. "The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. Good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant." Kurt straightened the bowtie one last time. "Congratulations on the wedding, Blaine."
