A Fanfiction based on the poem, 'In Paris With You' by James Fenton.
(OLD!) A/N: Well, I've been studying this poem in English Lit, and I thought today that it would be brilliant for Klaine, I, personally, Love this Poem and I hope you do too, so… TADA, hope you enjoy this, I'm not so sure about it myself, but I hardly ever like my own stories and other people seem to like them so… enjoy?
UPDATE 26/07/14: (Sorry about my annoying older AN) I have updated this story a bit, spelling, pace and grammar in this was atrocious! (My past self wasn't the best at that it seems!) and, well, it's been basically completely re-written. It's much better in my opinion.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the poem used.
Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful.
Breaking up with Rachel had been hard, he'd been heartbroken when she'd left. He was almost certain he'd loved her.
She'd left just before their planned month-long vacation, so he'd gone by himself, no point wasting money on non-refundable tickets. The hotel was sleazier than he'd expected, and coming to Paris, the city of Love wasn't one of his best ideas. Everywhere he looked there were couples, kissing, embracing, loving in the French sunlight. It made him ache.
And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two
I'm one of your talking wounded.
He became a regular at a bar near his hotel, a small hole in the wall that seemed to harbour drunks more than couples like the first few he'd gone to. it was exactly what he needed, somewhere to vent his anguish.
I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded.
He felt trapped, she'd left him trapped in his own self-pity, trapped within the clutter of his heartbroken mind.
But I'm in Paris with you.
Until he met him. Kurt.
Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess I've been through.
He'd bumped into Kurt, literally, he'd fallen to the floor in a drunken haze, but when he looked up, he swore he saw an angel… he still resented her, but Kurt made him forget.
I admit I'm on the rebound
And I don't care where are we bound.
I'm in Paris with you.
He knew that this couldn't possible last, he was practically on the rebound. This thing between him and Kurt was noting but a holiday fling. But he didn't care, not one bit...
He kind of hoped it could be more.
Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre
If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame,
If we skip the Champs Elysées
And remain here in this sleazy
Old hotel room
He and Kurt, well, they barely left the hotel room. He avoided the hustle and bustle of the usual tourist spots, toured the more urban parts of Paris, if they ventured outside.
Doing this and that
To what and whom
Their relationship moved quicker than Blaine would have normally. But Kurt was just so... perfect, so amazing. Despite the language barrier the two talked more and more after the first few nights.
Learning who you are,
He learnt so much about Kurt...
Learning what I am.
So much about himself.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There's that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
And I'm in Paris with you.
He didn't care that the hotel was rundown, walls peeling, cracked ceilings, creaking bed springs. He was with Kurt. He was... he was falling for Kurt.
But he couldn't. He wasn't allowed to. He'd be leaving in days.
He just tried to enjoy the time he had.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris.
I'm in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
He was falling in love…
He was in love with the slightest thing Kurt did...
I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
The was his eyes sparkled when he laughed.
The things he did with his mouth.
I'm in Paris with... all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
The way he blushed so easily.
I'm in Paris with you.
And he never wanted it to end…
AN: Completely re-written and updated. (I'd like to think my writing style has greatly improved since 2011) I tried to keep it as similar to the original as possible, some of the lines weren't half bad actually, the plot was quite good to if I do say so myself. Anyway, if anyone reads this I hope you enjoyed it. I remember being quite proud of this, at the time, I really did love that poem.
(also loving the new spelling gizmo on this editor, amazing.)