Hi, ya'll!
So, I was listening to Antebellum by Vienna Teng (who is awesome, go check her out), and I suddenly realized that there should be a Kurbastian fic based off this song (I would have done Klaine but box scene) . Since I didn't know of any such fics, I decided to write it myself.
Again, if you have any prompts, you can let me know via review or pm, or ask me on tumblr (my url is klayn). Thanks!
Also, I don't own anything.
We walked through the little park, leaves crunching beneath our shoes- my old ones, and his new, fashionable boots. He spots the bench and asks if I want to sit down. I reply that maybe he shouldn't have worn his feminine boots when he was walking if he wanted to avoid sore feet, and he replies that beauty is pain, and that his legs look damn fine when he's wearing these boots. I'm silent for a moment, considering, then I reply with a smile that the boots do indeed make his legs look damn fine. He looks up and half-smiles at me, before the smile disappears and the moment's gone.
We sit down on the bench, and memories come rushing back- memories of us when we were younger, happier, our faces mirroring each other's love and happiness. Talking about our future, him talking about on Broadway and part-time designing clothes, with me as his "trophy wife", me talking about following my dad's footsteps and becoming a high-power lawyer and supporting his ridiculous fashion habits, then getting too close to each other and ending up making out or having sex with each other.
But other memories come rushing back- memories of epic storm-outs, of valuable breakables being thrown at walls in rage, of our words- usually playfully snarking back and forth- being used to cut and tear down the other, making each other bleed. Me saying that he never supported my goals the way I supported his, him saying that he expected to be able to come home and not see a random stranger having sex with his boyfriend of 4 years on the first surface of the apartment that we had "christened".
And memories of running into him with another boy on his arms, a boy with annoying puppy-like eyes and adorable hair, memories of the email I got 6 years after we broke up that his boyfriend- now fiancé- had proposed, and his he was going to planning his wedding (after all, he'd been planning weddings since he was 2) and that he wanted me to be his best man. Memories of being called at 2 am and him saying that their surrogate- one of our high school friends- had just given birth to his kid and that he and his husband wanted me to be her godfather, and won't you come to New York to meet her? Memories of seeing a little girl with her mother's curly blonde hair and her father's glasz eyes, and a delicate face with his porcelain-colored skin. Memories of spending Thanksgiving with the rest of ND and seeing Mike and Tina and their kids, and Brittany's and Santana's wedding rings, and seeing him and his husband and their daughter, and all the rest of the group and their various spouses.
When the memories stop coming, it's night out. We sit there, lost in our thoughts, before our silence is interrupted by his phone ringing. He picks it up and starts talking. He's saying that he ran into me and we went walking in the park, and yes, he's coming home right now, he'll be home in 10 minutes, okay, love you too, bye. He hangs up and puts his phone in his pocket, then says, "I'm happy I ran into you today."
"Me too," I reply. "I should get going now."
"Okay," he says, and we get up.
"Bye, Kurt," I say.
"Goodbye, Sebastian."