Kurt: It's Sunday morning and I am entering the public library, the smell of autumn and new books filling my senses as I make my way through the cascade of words and stories. I never understood the fascination with books until around a week ago when it hit me, like fireworks to the brain, the library became a ritual for my Sunday mornings. I walk down the foreign language aisle, eyes browsing the assortment of dialect. I pick up an advanced French book, knowing it would make great use for a distraction if I need one. I look for him, the man that had drawn me here in the first place, the reason why the library was special to me on a Sunday. He is adorable, his large black rimmed glasses that fall down his nose through the shift, the sweater vest he wears over the checked button up, his curly hair that falls perfectly to frame his face. I look around in temptation, tapping the small wedge of my Jimmy Cho boots against the laminated floors nervously. He isn't here, I close my eyes and make my way to the Romance section, a sense of wanting drapes my mind. There isn't anyone around, though early morning Sunday is barely the peak time for visitors. I feel like I am the only one here, surrounded by colossal piles of books.
I think about leaving with the little hope of seeing the mysterious man today, though my thoughts change when he is stood opposite me, my head is fuzzy. I think about going over and asking for help, but something tells me not to, instead I gaze at the books in front of me, browsing the various titles. He is wearing a red button up today, accompanied by an adorable navy bow tie. His hair is loose, curls wilder than usual. I hide my gaze with the French book, hoping he doesn't look. He does though, against my entire refrain he looks. I am trying to ignore the constant beating of my heart as the drumming becomes more irate, but he's walking up to me, he really is.
"Do you need some help?" I hear him speak softly, his voice is beautiful sending a shiver through my entire body. I lick my lips nervously before opening my mouth to reply, I cough to clear my throat in case. "No." I mentally yell at myself for the sharp answer, he smiles at me and pushes his glasses up his nose before he walks back over to the stack of books he was previously alphabetising. I continue to stare blankly at my book, the words becoming a blur as the librarian quietly re shelves the books. I give myself a long speech in my mind, as I try to persuade myself to talk to him. I take in my pride, straightening out my collar and take my leave towards the man, book clutched firmly in my right hand. The man doesn't notice as I proceed towards him. I have second thoughts, I want to turn on my heel, but I carry on. I stop when I am directly beside him. "Could you recommend a book?" I ask, hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions about why I had declined. His gaze was on me, hazel eyes with a sprinkle of honey, they were truly gorgeous. A smile graces his lips as he stands. "What genre were you thinking of?" He asks, as we stand facing each other, the reality of it all hits me, I am stood in-front of the man that I have been crushing on for a while now. I seem to stare at him, oblivious that he has quirked one of his triangular brows in question. "Oh, Romance." I answer quickly and follow like a lost puppy as he directs us to the Romance section once again. I watch as he searches the shelf, eyes lost in the spines of each book. He picks up one and hands it to me, I read the back and smile to myself. I can't remember when I got into a good romance novel, a memory appears in my mind, I think back to High school when I would read constantly. "This one is good. Pride and Prejudice is a classic." He explains, I simply nod at the facts he gives me, and watch his expression lighten as he talks about the beautiful plot line. I can't help but laugh lightly when he uses his hand to express the emotion that partakes in the book. "Thank you…erm" I stumble, hoping he would tell me his name. "Blaine." He replies sweetly, I am flooded with a feeling, a feeling of longing to know more about Blaine. I knew I never was attracted to such types as this man, but I felt as if he was perfect. I am lost for words now, knowing I should reply but my tongue becomes tied. "Do I get to know your name?" He teases, or flirts. The chant of voices echo's through the building, interrupting my thought of the perfection in front of me. "Oh. Kurt." I extend my hand, he takes the grasp and we shake hands for moments, the touch sending a volt around my body. I can't contemplate the situation, the man touched me, what I wanted for a while, and I felt so needy. I pull my hand from his grasp, the book held close to my chest. "See you again Blaine." I whisper just loud enough for him to hear and take my leave, I look at the book once more and it makes my stomach lurch as I think of Blaine, I would be back on Sunday, maybe earlier.
Blaine: I walk through down the street with a wide spread smile on my face, everyone seems so content today as the Autumnal breeze sends an aroma of Pumpkin and fresh harvest. I adore the time around Halloween, it has to be my favourite time of the year apart from Christmas of course. I head down the street to where my apartment lingers, luckily I live five minutes down the road from the library where I work, it makes it easier for me to access.
I take the lift to floor five when I enter the worn out building, it lacks the colour it should hold, and instead is replaced by greys and blacks. Mrs Joye is collecting her mail when I reach my floor, she is the old woman who does nothing but complain about how loud everyone is, though she seems to have a personal problem with me.
"Mr Anderson." She notices me as I try to creep into my apartment unnoticed, the tone of her voice is bitter as she thrusts a package into my hand and scolds me for having it mailed to the incorrect address.
"I don't deliver the packages. You should be taking your passive aggression out on the mail man!" I watch her walk away, mail in one hand and coffee mug in the other. I smile to myself, holding the package, tightly clutched under my arm. Mrs Joye was never one for neighbours and was always complaining to the landlord, though he took it all as just a senior moment.
Upon entering room 509, I saw that my television was on, the national geographic channel, showing whales migrating through the channels. I roll my eyes and throw the satchel I was previously carrying to the floor with a loud thud.
"Darling is that you?" I hear a voice from the kitchen and the aroma of seasonal Pumpkin pie fills my senses. My parents are here, visiting for whatever reason they had, I wasn't happy about the surprise since they barely stayed in contact with me since I turned twenty one.
"Yes." I spoke through clenched teeth, knowing that for the next few days I would have the pleasant company of the two most un-cooperating people in our society. I couldn't help but look around at the sudden evidence of intrusion they had left. Luggage all over the couch, coats hanging messily over the backs of the oak chairs that were set up at the table and even a mass of shoes stacked outside my bedroom door.
"Are you surprised?"
"Surprised is one word for it." I continue a false smile, one that I had learned to hold high on my expression from the age of eleven.
"Good, but Blaine dear, I was surprised by the clutter in this home." I watch as she scrunches her nose into the air at the collection of photo frames, books and other various items surrounding her. My mother was a woman of standards, her time and effort spent to make her life as glamorous as possible, instead of producing a well fared family who didn't completely lock up their emotional walls. Though my father agreed that to be a man you would hold a home, a wife and a job to live out a fulfilled and happy lively hood.
"If you say so, mother." I spoke bitterly sweet towards the woman, and watch her in the vintage apron as she stirs the pot, her raven hair tied neatly into a presentable bun.
"Sweetheart, have you found a girlfriend yet?" I open my eyes wide in question, she was inquiring me on an answer she already knew.
"I haven't found a partner yet." I stress on the word 'partner' which makes her brow furrow in protest, she knew I was gay, openly of course, but she refuses to admit that her youngest is a homosexual. I laugh bitterly beneath my shallow breath at this, my family were homophobic, and they hated people who were different in society. My father didn't know of my preference, since my mother said he would probably be very angry, to which I didn't care.
"Oh, well how about that Catherine girl from high school? I could get hold of her and-"
"No. You know my preference." I snap, immediately regretting the tone I had taken. She turns, face full of fury as she drops the wooden spoon from her grasp, colliding with the hardwood flooring, it leaves a large stain that contrasts with the light coloured wood. I stare at her, my honey eyes full of guilt, she takes her leave and heads for the bathroom. She slams the door behind her furiously, I knew I shouldn't have said anything, I had to last a week at least without offending my parents, already failing at that. I decide to finish the pumpkin soup and wait for my father to arrive home, I knew it wouldn't be a pleasant argument when he did.
Kurt: I lay on the couch, Pride and Prejudice in my left hand, my right is splayed across the skin tight tank top I wear. For autumn the weather sure is uncomfortable and I can't bring myself around to move from the couch, I know I will combust if I do. I had no actual intent to read the book Blaine referred, but now I can't seem to put the story down to even grab a snack. Rachel is sat in the single arm chair, hair tied back into a tidy ponytail, a hint of aggravation covering her features. Rachel and I have lived together ever since we moved to New York, though Finn-her boyfriend, my step brother-had chosen to stay in Ohio for a year or so. She was my high-school hag and best-friend, both of us trying to achieve the unachievable. She peers over to me with her dark eyes, darker than usual today, like a force had taken over her. I choose to ignore her in attempt to continue my adventures with the Bennett's.
"How are you even concentrating on that?" She snaps, I look up and now return her stare with an ounce of annoyance in my mind.
"It's taking my mind off the weather Rachel, go have a cold shower." I retort and mark my page, I place it down carelessly onto the coffee table, feeling as if I was in a sauna, the uncomfortable heat soaks through my skin and I itch all over from the uncomfortable fabric that rubs against my sensitive skin.
"I already had one." She explains, stands and walks over to the fridge, probably for a cool beverage. I notice the tension in her posture as she makes her way to the destination, we both need to cool off, seriously. An idea enters my head immediately after seeing an illuminating advert emit from the neglected television. I walk into the kitchen to see the brunette woman exhale and wipe her forehead dramatically. She was always the dramatic, I smile and lean against the counter.
"Babe, Are you off work today." I ask in a softer tone that I had used earlier, gazing at her with my ocean blue orbs. She seems to let her shoulders relax and hands me a cool bottle of apple juice, already half way through her own. She raises a brow and nods.
"Well, yes, but I don't feel like moving in this heat." She once again exaggerates the weather, collapsing against the fridge, trying to get into the machine to cool off, I laugh as she slumps to the cool tiled floor and sighs in relief.
"No worries." I hop over to her and continue. "I have an idea." I grin enthusiastically, before letting my imagination and creativity take over my coherence.
Blaine: My mother is irrational, she locks herself in the bathroom or my bedroom for most of the days, I'm not sure what she is doing or why she is upset, but she is. To take everything up a substantial notch, the weather is torturous and I need to cool down. I walk into the kitchen in a pair of jogging pants and a fitted white tee, father is sat at the table, reading glasses perched at the end of his nose, his curls that replicate my own are perfectly slick back with a fair amount of product. The one reason I disliked my curls reflected on my father and I's relationship, I had them to remind me of him every-day of my life. Though I had my mother's eyes, which I didn't mind, everyone thought they were intriguing which was never a bad thing.
"Morning Blaine." He's mumbling beneath his paper, not bothering to even look at me, I shrug and walk to the fridge, I pull out a refreshingly cool bottle of water and hold it to my cheek for a few moments.
"Morning." I reply in a toneless manner, I want to get away from the house before mother finally emerges from her pit, probably in a horrible mood, the weather not being a helper. I grab my iPod and decide a run to the park and back would set that uncomfortable feeling straight that I had in the depths of my stomach. My father looks at me finally and sneers at my appearance, he wants me to dress presentable, I can hear the thought almost leak from his mouth, though he never says it. I shrug the thought away and head out the apartment, I plug in my ear phones and listen to my playlist of Pink, Fucking perfect begins to play and I chuckle to myself as I make my way to the elevator. Mrs Joye greets me, this time accompanied by a young woman, they argue, the young Latina woman has her hands firm on her hips.
"I will go Lima heights on your ass old prune." She spat, her eyes pin pointed her daggered glare on the elderly woman.
"Threatening a vulnerable woman? The landlord won't have a hoodlum like you living here." She retorts and wrinkled her nose.
"No one scares Santana Lopez. No one, so give me my mail and go be a lonely miserable old woman in your own apartment." I take this as a cue to intervene and walk towards the bickering couple, the Latina must be new to the apartment since I knew most of the residents in the building for good and bad reasons. They both turn and stare at me.
"Who's this hobbit?" She sneers at me and looks me over to check if I was broken or weird in anyway. I feel a vulnerable pulse run through my entire body, I could tell this woman was very opinionated and could turn at any second.
"Blaine Anderson, 509." I thrust my hand towards her in a friendly manner, but I should have known better than to stick my hand out to a lion.
"Fuck off Anderson, I don't need some Hobbit interfering." She bit back, I can see a hint of metal in her mouth as she hisses, the bar connecting to her teeth. She has a tongue piercing, which would usually suggest trouble to most, but I was not most.
"I would" I began, she raises a pencil brow. "But you're in my way." I continue and signal toward the elevator as I pull an innocent expression. Hers seems to darken as she steps out of the way, she licks her lips in annoyance and clicks her tongue. I dart for the elevator and hit ground floor, leaving the argument I didn't need to be in. In all luck, the elevator had an AC unit installed, I sigh as the cool breeze cools off my skin, and the tension seems to slip away as I slip out of the compartment and out of the front door into the scolding heat. I raise the bottle to my forehead again as I attempt to keep my cool body temperature.
Kurt: Rachel and I were sat in a Park nearby our apartment, not wanting to go too far in case the heat become too intense for the drama queen, though my devised plan was going to be put into action. We had gone to our local store, in hoping they would supply water guns and balloons. I wasn't one for getting wet at my own convenience, but today was an exception, I was too hot to think about my hair which was stuck to my forehead anyway. Luckily there was a water feature where we could fill them up without the hassle of buying bottled water.
"Kurtie, this would be a lot more fun with more people. Invite Jason." She complains whilst we contemplate how this would play out, the mention of Jason sends a strike of reality through my body, Jason was my boyfriend of a year and I had not once thought of him in the last couple of days. I scold myself and pull out my phone, dialling his neglected number. It rings three times before he finally picks up with a groggy answer.
"What?" He sounds sick, he snaps at me, followed by a sniff, wait, I couldn't tell if he was sick or if he was crying, if he was I felt like the main cause.
"Hey baby, are you ill?" I coo and try to sound as sympathetic as a man about to have a water fight can, I give Rachel the gun in my hands and tell her to fill it up, but she doesn't budge.
"A little," He snaps, I know I can't become angry with him, being ill always made people extra sensitive. My heart breaks at the tone.
"I was just trying to be considerate Jason."
"I know, I'm sorry, this cold is terrible." He sniffs and I hear some shuffles from the background, a voice calls and I raise a brow, though relief sets as I know someone is going to look after him. He mumbles something inaudible, probably because he doesn't want any interruptions.
"Who's there with you babe? Are they looking after you?" I tease, a grin replaces the worried brow I wore.
"Stephanie, I didn't want to bother you since you live across town…"
"Hey Jason!" Rachel interrupts with her happy go lucky attitude, I can just see the grimace on his face through the phone, he was never keen on Rachel, and he even tried to persuade me to move in with him instead of having to live with her. I declined though, I knew it was too soon to be moving in with him, though it had been a year, but we weren't a normal couple. I had big issues with relationships, being afraid of commitment, I prefer something where your heart won't get stomped on, though Jason made a sweet promise from the start that he would never intentionally break my heart.
"Tell her to shove a sock in it." He groans and I laugh in response.
"He said hey beautiful." Jason corrects me over the speaker and groans as I laugh at his immaturity.
"Aw, what a cutie."
"Babe, I'll talk later…I need to sleep." Jason groans again which seems to be a continual annoyance in our conversation, I say my goodbyes and tell him how much I miss him before hanging up, Rachel is now filling up the toy guns, and a wide smile paints itself on my lips.
Blaine: The run is long and tiring, but with my music it helps me escape from the stress in the world, my feet never stop as I run through the town and try to find a place to cool down. I have been running for twenty minutes and my throat is dry, curls stuck to my forehead and my face has become red. I ran out of water a while ago, I heard my phone ring about ten times as I ran, knowing it would be my mother or father I chose to ignore it. I know that they will be mad when I arrive at home hours later, though they need to understand that I'm no child. I felt a pang in my heart as I turned the corner of the walk way, honey eyes fixated on the spectacle in front of me, it was the boy from the library, Kurt, and how could I even forget such a name. I tried my best to hide the stalker gaze as he held a toy pistol in one hand whilst his tank top clung deliciously to his torso, though what looked most enticing was the perfect coif he usually sports was now soaked, his bangs fall across his forehead and water rolls down his freckled cheeks. I knew I was staring but I couldn't help it. A woman is behind him, her hair tied into a messy pony tail, her clothes also soaked, a pistol in her hand. I can't help but laugh at the unexpected fright Kurt is about to have. My cell rings again, it's my mother, I ignore it again as I fix my gaze back on the man, he has now been drenched by the gun, a look of utter shock and annoyance on his features, though a laugh follows. His laugh is angelic, I take it in, and everything about this man is utterly breath-taking.
"Rachel! You are going to get it!" He calls as she runs away, they are now out of my view and I take the chance to enter the park without being seen by Kurt, I would love to walk up to him and hear his laughter again, but in reality our only exchange was our names and what book he should read. Though the hazel hair blue eyed man had been visiting the library frequently and constantly became lost by the Romance section.
I hear a child scream in the distance and then a crowd of laughter, the park is full of families with children. I smile to myself and think about my own future and how my parents want me to start a family as soon as possible, my face contorts at the idea, I know I am too young for that, but one day I want it. I need water, I head over to the stand as I walk down the path and buy two bottles in case I run out again, I turn back down the path and browse the crowd, I know I shouldn't but I search the crowds, subconsciously I look for that hazel hair and blue eyes, though I know I would never go over to him.
That is the last time I see Kurt for the rest of the week, I also find myself going for a run most evenings, I want to escape my apartment and my parents, they announced that they would be staying for another week at least, though would be sightseeing more after their differences were settled. I am working at the library again, wearing my usual checked button up and black bow tie and thick rimmed glasses, I find them much more comfortable than contact lenses, especially when I work.
"Hey Blainey." I turn around to see an old high school friend, Wes, he's wearing a causal black t-shirt with grey fitted pants, and he stands there with a smile the size of Toronto. To my surprise he doesn't insinuate his weekly hug, I frown slightly at this.
"Wesley, no hug?" I stretch my arms out, needy.
"Not today Blainey." His smile is a sad one as my arms retreat, I feel an anxious aura fill the space between us, and something was defiantly up.
"Hey, what's up Wes? Did something happen?" I place the book in my hand on the shelf and wrap my arm around his shoulder in comfort, leading him over to the seating area, I know no one will mind the sudden break. Wes looks down at his hands that twitch nervously.
"Lindsey broke it off." He speaks coherently, no tears prick his eyes and in all honesty I have to say this is defiantly a surprise, Wes was always one to show how he felt in high school, how close we were and all.
"Wes," I coo, I know I can't say anything to make him feel better so take him into a desperate hug and try to understand why he doesn't cry. We sit there for a few moments and enjoy each-others comfort.
Kurt: I know it's only Friday but I can't stay away, I finish Pride and Prejudice as an excuse to rent another love sick book, though I know the real reason is to see the cute man-Blaine-who is the librarian there. I walk through the doors and a wave of serenity floats through my being, I stop and revel in the large stack of books that surround me. I smile and head straight for the Romance section, Pride and Prejudice in a tight grip on the spine. I tell myself I will talk to Blaine again, I feel a flicker of confidence flow through me.
My army boots echo through the muted room, today I sport skinny black jeans and a white button up, a grey waist coat accommodates it stylishly. I relish again in the silence, finally able to escape Rachel's whines for at least an hour or two. I strut through the aisle and head for the Romance, I want another classic, classic love is beautiful and built on the small things not just the physical side, to my down fall Blaine isn't there, I did have hope that I could talk some more with him but it wasn't a big deal really, it wasn't an obligation.
I search the shelf for a good find and cuss when nothing appeals to me, I need help but it seems no one is around. I shrug to myself and decide that I would skip on renting a book today.
"-and called me saying she wasn't happy." I hear a voice, but what really intrigues me is the voice that follows, although I am stuck a bookcase behind, I defiantly know its Blaine, his slightly husky voice is soft and dusty today.
"You know, I think you should call her and ask to be friends. Even if you aren't friends but are at least on good terms." I peek through the case and see an Asian male, a little older than myself with Blaine, he looks adorable as usual.
"Maybe," The Asian man glances at me, fortunately I pretend to look into a book before he sees me, and a blush begins to creep slowly up my neck. He turns away and back to Blaine, their register becomes low and quiet, as if they are hiding their conversation.
Blaine: "Maybe" Wes replies, he seems distracted for mere moments before he shuffles up close to me and wraps an arm around his my shoulder, I smile and wait for him to continue.
"It looks like someone needs a little help in choosing a book." His eyes follow over to the bookcase, where my gaze meets the young Hazel boy, he seems to frantically skim through the back of a variety of books, his brow furrows and his eyes seem lost.
"Oh, I guess it's my job." I smile to myself and walk around the shelf, I see him there, he looks fabulous, but his usually calm expression seems full of stress. His posture seems tense also, he picks another book and after a few moments he throws it back down. I decide to intervene and walk towards him, he seems to hear the clatter of my shoes and his head turns. My smile is friendly and I try not to scare him away, but he looks like a bunny caught in headlights. He now has a frantic expression as he picks up 'Withering Heights', he buries his face into the pages.
"Hey again." I greet as I try my best to give him a curious smile. He doesn't reply immediately and I feel like an idiot for even talking to someone of Kurt's level, he was gorgeous.
"Hey…" The corner of his lips turn up and then he covers his face again, he hides his blush, but I can see it as it trails up his neck and into his cheeks.
"Do you need any help choosing?"
"Y-Yes please, Blaine." I raise a brow and smile half-heartedly, I love the fact he has remembered my name, it sends a shiver down my spine. I take the book from his hand and glance over the cover, I remember Withering Heights, it is a beautiful love story, I read it in high school in my free time, tissues by my side as the characters fell in love and the story un-folded.
"You know Kurt, I think this one a pretty good choice." I mention, never taking my eyes off of the cover.
"You think?" I swear I see him shiver at his own name as it slips off of my lips.
"Of course," I nod and run my fingers over the spine, he watches my actions and I hand the book back to him gently, our hands brush lightly together and I can't help but smile at how soft his are. As if on cue, Wes is here, he enters our light conversation, I send him a glare that says 'don't you dare.'
"Blainey, who's your friend?" His tone is oblivious to Kurt, but I can hear the bitter sweet mock in his speech. I smile along with him as I try to force him to leave, though he stays put and jabs me hard in the side.
"This is Kurt, he's a regular at the library." I explain and rub the spot that now ached.
"Kurt? Hummel?" I cock a brow at Wes and wonder if he knows Kurt.
"Y-Yes, Do I know you?" Kurt is as oblivious as I am as we both now stare at the Asian male in surprise.
"I'm Wes, Blaine's side man. And no, I just assumed, I heard your name in the gossip with the popular crowd you know, Kurt isn't that common of a name." He now mumbles on and releases his grip from my shoulder, Kurt seems to just nod in response whilst Wes now peers through him.
"Blaine and I were about to grab coffee," He begins and my honey eyes widen, I can just imagine the reaction he will have, rejecting the offer. I cuss under my breath and lick my dry lips nervously. "Would you like to join us?" Kurt simply stares in disbelief and hides once again beneath the breath taking tale of withering heights.
"Sure. I would love to."