Until he remembers

by MindOverMental

AU in which Sebastian is a struggling screenplay writer looking for inspiration. He meets a beautiful young artist names Kurt Hummel and finds all the inspiration he could want. Until tragedy strikes... ((This is my first story and I don't even understand how you summary without spoiling it. Credit for the idea goes to Megan.))

A sigh and the sound of a paper being crumbled and hitting what sounded like the floor. Sebastian Smythe opened his eyes. He'd missed the wastepaper basket again with his next crumpled idea. He sighed once again and looked up at the ceiling. He never did make a shot like that. He was usually too dejected by the most recent failure to even try to make the shot.

The heels of Sebastian's hands started at his eyes and dragged down his face. His writer's block was deep now. He needed inspiration for somewhere or nothing was going to be written. Sebastian stretched in a very catty way and reached across his desk for a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He lit a cigarette and got up, stretching again like a man twice his age. He needed coffee.

Kurt Hummel's breath came out in little clouds of steam as he strode briskly down the sidewalk. He was already half jittery on a caffeine buzz, but it was so cold out that he needed something warmer than diet Coke.

He figured he must look absolutely disheveled right now, paints smudged across his face no doubt and probably threaded through his hair which was usually coiffed to perfection but now stuck out in odd directions. Whenever he was in the studio this happened. He should remember by now to stop touching his face and hair constantly while covered in whichever art supplies he was using that day. Nonetheless, he needed something warmer than his partially heated studio space allowed.

He pushed through the doors of the coffeeshop he frequented and winced at the bell that dinged overhead. His multi-coloured face needed no more attention drawn.

Kurt cast his eyes to the ground until he got to the barista.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel," the barista chirped happily. They knew each other by now. Kurt came here enough. "The usual? Grande non-fat mocha?"

"Hello, Blaine," Kurt replied sounding thoroughly bored. "The usual." He thanked him and paid once his drink was up and turned to scan the room for somewhere to sit. All tables were taken and one of those people having taken said tables was definitely staring at him.

Kurt's breath caught in his throat as a pair of dazzling green eyes, paired with a dazzling smile, locked with his own.

Sebastian quite possibly had inspiration here.