Okay, so I wrote this in response to the rumours about the upcoming dreaded episode four. I hope you enjoy :)
….
It felt like a dream. Wait, no. Not a dream. Dreams are good and make you feel happy. And it was not good. And unless you counted the constant pain he felt in his core that felt like is was slowly gnawing away at his insides as happiness, I was definitely not happy. So no, it didn't feel like a dream. It felt like a nightmare. A god-awful, heartbreaking nightmare that, no matter how many time or how hard he pinched himself, he couldn't wake up from.
Rachel had told him that it would be okay. That Blaine would realise his mistake and everything would be good again. And after hearing her say that to him at regular intervals for a day and a half, he'd eventually believed her. He'd gotten his hopes up. But then after the third day with still no word from Blaine, a small seed of doubt began to settle in his mind. And it grew. It was after the fourth, fifth and sixth days that he finally cracked. The smallest glimmer of hope Rachel had given him shattering beyond repair.
It was not a dream.
It was not a nightmare.
It was real.
On the seventh day, he decided it was time that he responded to the numerous missed calls and texts he'd received from his dad over the past two days. He figured that Rachel had told Finn when he'd finally broken down, and then Finn had proceeded to tell his dad.
It had been an emotional phone call, to say the least. He was okay at first, explaining to his dad that; yes they had broken up, no he didn't entirely know why, and he would be okay about it, but today just isn't that day.
But when his dad said so simply, Did you want me to come down there? like its normal for him to fly halfway across the country at such late notice, he couldn't hold his tears in any longer. And then he couldn't get them to stop.
Which is why he was still crying when his laptop dinged. Walking over to his makeshift desk, wiping at his tears (though doing nothing to hide the fact that he had been crying), he saw he was getting a call on Skype.
His first thought was that it was Mercedes; he hadn't spoken to her since it had happened, so she'd clearly caught wind of it.
But it wasn't Mercedes. In fact, it was the furthest person from.
It was Blaine.
Before he could even register what he was doing, he was answering the call. He didn't know why. He was a mess, and he didn't want Blaine seeing him like that. Not after...
And then Blaine's face was on his screen and any reservations he'd had about his own appearance went out the window. Because there was Blaine. Blaine whose face he hadn't seen in a week and God he'd missed it.
"Kurt?"
It took a moment for Kurt to realise that Blaine was talking to him, saying his name, and the only thing he could say in reply without entirely breaking down at the seams was, "hi."
"Look, you don't have to say anything or even do anything except listen. I just – I'm sorry. I was an idiot and I wish that someone had slapped me or – or something last week to snap me out of it because I honestly don't know why-" Blaine paused, his walls visibly beginning to crumble. "I just wanted you to hear this, and for you to know that I'm the biggest idiot to ever walk the Earth..."
His lips quivered a little when he saw Blaine pick up his guitar, but the second he heard the words, you think I'm pretty..., he crumbled and he physically couldn't hold his tears back.
By the time the song finished, Blaine's eyes filled with tears, Kurt's mind way made up.
"Where are you?"
Blaine's eyes widened in surprise. "I'm staying at a motel on the Lower East Side. My dad booked a-"
"Can you get to Battery Park?"
"I – uh – yeah, Kurt. But why?"
And then Kurt was running. Running like his life depended on it. He was already calling for a cab – the subway would take too long – by the time he reached the stairs.
The wait for the cab was agonising, and so too was the actual trip.
But it was worth it when he shoved a handful of money at the driver and saw Blaine standing there at the entrance about 100 metres up the road, clearly dresses in his lounge clothes but didn't care.
He was running again, except this time, so was Blaine.
He didn't have enough time to notice that Blaine's face was covered in tears before he was throwing his arms around Blaine's neck and kissing him. It was needy and desperate, his hands clinging to him like he thought he may disappear if he doesn't hold onto him tight enough. But it was okay. Because Blaine was kissing him back just as passionately and clinging to him just as tightly, and he didn't even care that his arms hurt where Blaine's fingernails dug into him because that just meant it was all the more real.
He doesn't know how long they stood there, needy kiss after needy kiss, constant ramblings of I'm sorry's and I missed you's.
He didn't care how long they were there or who was watching them. He didn't care that he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a cardigan that didn't match. He didn't care that his lips felt swollen and bruised.
He only cared that Blaine was here, and he was.
He only cared that he could finally feel whole again.
….
Cheesy, I know. But I have to keep positive, otherwise I don't think I'll survive the coming weeks. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this. If you want, I'm midway through a multi-chapter AU klaine fic called:You Only Find It Once, so check that out if you like.
You can find me on tumblr at emlovessid . tumblr . com
Remember, reviews are lovely!
Em xoxo