Hey everyone! My name is Lena, and I'm a new writer and hopefully my stories are good. I love Glee, Twilight, Mortal Instruments, House Of Night, etc. I also LOVE reading loads of manga, so I believe most of my stories will be inspired from those mangas. If they are, I'll let you know which ones that way you might want to read them!
This if the first inspiration I got. This is inspired by the manga WANTED, which is really really good and if you like manga you should read it. When I was reading it I was like "If this is Klaine it might be totally hot!"
I hope everyone will enjoy what I write!
Prologue
High dive into frozen waves
Where the past comes back to life
Fight fear for the selfish pain
It was worth it every time
Hold still right before we crash
Cause we both know how this ends
Our clock ticks till it breaks your glass
And I drown in you again
Cause you are the piece of me
I wish I didn't need
Chasing relentlessly
Still fight and I don't know why
If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?
If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?
If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?
If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?
Walk on through a red parade
And refuse to make amends
It cuts deep through our ground
And makes us forget all common sense
Don't speak as I try to leave
Cause we both know what we'll choose
If you pull, then I'll push too deep
And I'll fall right back to you
Cause you are the piece of me
I wish I didn't need
Chasing relentlessly
Still fight and I don't know why
If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?
If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?
Why are you my clarity?
Why are you my remedy?
Why are you my clarity?
Why are you my remedy?
If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?
If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?
The countertenor's voice drifted to a close as his small body bowed to the crowd that witnessed his performance before he turned to the royal that was seated and did the same.
"I want another!" the man said from his throne as he downed another goblet of the liquid that had put him in a drunken state. The man's finger were covered in an assortment of rings, all varying in different colors and sizes. His clothes matched that of any royal member of a family, clean linens that clung to his body beautifully.
"My Lord, Kurt's voice will be strained if he continues," the maid that stood next to the countertenor stated as she put a hand on his shoulder.
Kurt shook his head. "It's okay Miss Carole. I'm am able to do another," he reassured her with a cheeky smile. "Let me rehydrate myself and I'll be ready."
The ten-year-old boy grabbed the glass of water that one of the maids had prepared for him and took slow slips, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid sliding down his raw and sore throat. He had already done ten songs for the man that sat on the throne, and his voice was beginning to show it. Being able to sing for someone of royal status was nice and it definitely assisted him with the needs in order to survive, but sometimes Lord Travis Anderson did not know his limits.
After downing the rest of the glass, he handed it back to the maid before he positioned himself back into the same spot as before. To everyone in the room, they could all see just how beautiful Kurt was, and his angelic voice just added onto his beauty. The boy had fine chestnut hair that was coiffed just right, successful with the help of Miss Carole. His eyebrows were perfectly trimmed and his glasz eyes always shone with life and excitement. He wore the garments that most of the orphans were when they were in the presence of the royals: a simple long sleeved white shirt, thin black pants, and a set of shoes that were usually to big for their small feet or were so old that they were beginning to fall off.
Here we go again, he thought to himself as he took in a deep breath, trying to center himself so he could give a satisfactory performance while also making sure he didn't strain himself too much. The boy knew after tonight his voice would probably by hoarse for days and he would need to nurse it by relaxing his throat and avoid talking or singing. Something he could not afford if he wanted to survive as well as he did.
Kurt opened his mouth so he could begin his next selection, but a voice stopped him from doing so. The voice was so familiar, he would know that voice even as he lay dying.
"Father, this is nonsense. Kurt has performed enough for you," a handsome teenager said as he came to stand by Kurt. The teenager had curly black hair, some of the little ringlets brushing against the back of his neck while the rest was smoothed down and parted on his head. He had triangular black eyebrows arched over the most beautiful hazel eyes the glasz eyed boy had ever scene. His olive-toned muscular body was covered with the royal coat, the navy blue looking striking on his body and hugging nicely in all the right places. He wore tight black pants and black boots that went up to his knee. In his left ear a diamond glistened. Kurt believed the teenager had told him one time that it was one of the most valuable diamonds in the world, a gift from his mother for his thirteenth birthday.
"Blaine," Kurt said as the teenager wrapped his hand around his wrist and began pulling him out of the room.
"Ask Madam Quinn or Monsieur Finn to perform. Kurt's resting now," Blaine said as he turned the corner, he and Kurt disappearing from the sight of the guests. Kurt allowed being pulled from the mansion and into the adjourning garden that sat to the side of the mansion. Lord Anderson's late wife wanted to have a garden on the cliff that wasn't too far from the mansion that way she could enjoy her final days gardening while watching the sun rise and set. She had always loved the ocean as well, especially during the sunrise and sunset because it looked like it had come from the deep waters.
"Damn bigoted fool," Blaine cursed as he released Kurt's hand and walked to the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing against the rocks below. "He has no conscious when it comes to the well being of others."
Kurt smiled as he placed his hand on the sixteen-year-old's arm. "Blaine, I'm okay, really".
Blaine shook his head, folding his legs and sitting on the soft grass, gesturing his head to the seat next to him. Kurt sat down next to the raven, angling his body towards him. "I'm sorry my father doesn't know how to acknowledge your limits. He should know after singing for so long you need to rest!"
"Blaine, it's what I do in order to survive. We both know that. Orphans can only live here if they work for their stay." The boy laid his hand on the teenager's knee. "It's the only way I can be with you too. Your my best friend. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even be able to do this."
Blaine grabbed the porcelain boy's hand, squeezing it. "I know. I brought you here, and as promised I will make sure you are taken cared of."
"Just like you promised my father?"
Blaine smiled. "Just like I promised your father when he was drafted. I was serious Kurt when I told your father that when you come of age I am marrying you. We've known each other since you were so small. Every day is like a dream."
Kurt lay his head on Blaine's shoulder, watching the sun as it began disappearing under the ocean. "I know. I've always been happy when I'm with you Blaine. I just worry your father would never approve of me when I'm old enough to be with you. I'm scared that he would not accept me since I'm an orphan and you are so much more."
"Don't say that," Blaine said, laying his head on Kurt's. "You are everything to me. I know you're too young for us to be together now, but that still doesn't change my feelings for you or the fact when you're older I will be marrying you, damn what my father thinks."
"Blaine," Kurt said breathless as he looked into the raven's hazel eyes. "I-"
A scream stopped him from what he was going to stay. Blaine jumped up and ran towards the front of the mansion, Kurt not far behind. When they made it to the front they could see that the entrance was surrounded by a group of people, all brandishing swords.
"Damn. Bloody pirates," Blaine growled. "Kurt, get inside!" he yelled as he pulled his own sword, making his way towards the group. "Can I help you with something?"
One of the men took off their hat, tossing it aside as he looked at Blaine. Kurt couldn't see the man's face or what he looked like, but he could see that tattoo that covered the right side of his neck. It was a yellow warbler from the looks of it, it's beak raised towards the man's jaw and the wings spreading across the front of the throat and from what Kurt figured also the back of the neck as well.
Miss Carole ushered Kurt inside, slamming the door shut. Kurt tried to open the door, to get back to Blaine, but the maid grabbed his arm and yanked him away. "You can't do that Kurt. You mustn't go back out there. You could endanger yourself."
"But Blaine! He needs me! They could hurt him!" he screamed back, struggling against her tight grip.
"If you go out there, who knows what will happen!"
Kurt cried as he collapsed into the maid's arms, his arms wrapping around her neck. Outside they could hear the sounds of swords clashing and swearing. Kurt's body trembled, terrified of what was happening to Blaine. His fears were answered after a few moments.
"Lord Anderson," he could hear a voice bellow loudly, "if you ever wish to see your son again, you are to pay the ransom money that has been requested. If not, then we will not guarantee how long of a life he will live. We will give you one week to obtain the money required. You know where to find Captain Warbler."
"No! Blaine! They can't take him Miss Carole!" Kurt yelled as he shook free of the maid's grasp and ran to the door, scrambling to open it. He undid the many locks that bolted the door and swung it open...to be met with an empty courtyard.
And no sight of Blaine.