Hey everyone! Sorry it's been so long, but I've been so busy, and my mum hurt herself, but she's okay-ish now, thankfully :')
Be prepared for cheesiness! :P Maybe everyone take something from this though...I wish I had :P
Hope you enjoy, please review! :') xxx
"I have to admit, I am a little disheartened by the way we just saw Kurt run away from Blaine, looking terrified out of his wits, and how Blaine has moped off inside, looking utterly defeated," Rachel said pointedly, hands on her slim hips.
"Ah," Finn agreed. He didn't know what else to say-but it hurt him a lot to see his brother so distressed. He wondered if he should go after him…but Rachel was already pulling him back inside, talking non-stop and very fast. God, she talked a lot…seriously, he'd never known someone with so much to say. But for some reason…everything she said completely fascinated him. I mean, he was just the sweaty, dusty, working-class guy with just enough money to keep him afloat…and he'd had the good fortune to met her, and she'd already completely shaken up his life. He was simply so in awe of her life, her way of speaking, her extensive vocabulary…he had a feeling he could listen to her forever. Just listen…
"Oh, I hate to see Blaine upset…" Rachel looked mournful, as she took a breath, leading him back inside into the warmth. Finn watched as her long, straight hair stopped blowing in the wind and fell straight to her shoulders. He loved the way it shone, the perfectness of her fringe, as if it was stuck to her forehead, so even and flawless…but he tried not to stare. Not wanting to appear rude, or out of place, he interested himself in the freshly-painted walls of the corridors they were passing through, the paintings hung up in the first-class sections he'd never seen. Rachel occasionally stopped to tell him an artist's name, or model's name, but he barely took it in, the words washing around him like the tide on a beach…
He'd spent so long with her now…well, it felt like it. In reality, it was only a matter of hours since they'd met. But he felt like he'd known her much longer…
"Oh my God!"
Suddenly, Finn caught sight of the clock on the wall-his break had ended half an hour ago!
"Oh my God! Rachel, I'm so sorry, I have to go!"
He began to run off-he was dead…but then he looked back at her. She looked a little surprised, confused, hurt. His heartstrings tugged…what he wouldn't give to spend the whole day with her…but he had to go. His job had to come first…but, for the first time ever…he didn't want to get back to the coal. He wanted to stay…
"I'm sorry," he rushed, before forcing himself to turn away and beginning to run like crazy back to the engines of the ship, hoping no one would have noticed his lateness.
Blaine groaned like a dying old man, collapsing down in an armchair in a first-class lounge. It was pretty much empty, but he didn't notice.
That was it. He'd blown it.
Looking down at his hand, he cursed it for what it did. If he hadn't have taken his hand over the railings…
But it had felt so right…so wonderful…the pale, perfect skin of Kurt Hummel's hands was as soft and light as he'd imagined. For a moment, he could feel the gentle, rhythmic pulse at a pressure point under his skin…
He'd never feel that again.
Sighing even heavier, he felt like throwing himself off the side of the ship, into the water where no one could reach him. The one thing that had given him some hope on this God-dammed ship…and he'd thrown it away, just like that. He hated himself, he must have made the poor boy so uncomfortable…no wonder he was so frightened. The look in his eyes just before he ran away, like a deer in the headlamps, in a desperate dash to escape…
Why did it have to end like this? He hated to think that he'd upset the boy he'd found himself caring so much about, so much more than he ever had for anyone…
He knew it was ridiculous…how could he be in love with someone he barely knew…
He'd give up.
He'd give up, and they'd both get on with their lives. Kurt was gone now, out of reach. He'd have to carry on, alone. Or perhaps he'd have to marry some girl his mother picked, live a lie, every with this terrible guilt…and ever with the memory of Kurt's face, tormenting him…reminding him of what he could have had.
It was hopeless. Blaine couldn't go on like this. He couldn't.
"Hello," came a voice.
Reluctantly, Blaine forced his head up to see someone standing before him. Someone in a long, pale blue silk dress, with neat pointed shoes and a headband artfully placed in her long, light brown hair. She had a full, straight fringe, and freckles on her nose. She looked a little younger than him, but not much, perhaps in her mid to late teens? Her tone was British and rather well-spoken, but slightly nervous, even though she looked confident. She had big eyes with long lashes, and Blaine noticed she was very, even uncommonly pretty, even beautiful, with a fresh look, as if she'd grown up in the countryside with lots of clean air and sunshine. Her pretty face was arranged into a "can-I-help-you?" smile, her gloved hands clasped in front of her.
"Blaine Anderson?" she asked him.
Blaine started-he didn't recognise her. Had they met? "Y-Yes, that's me…?"
She laughed a little here. Her laugh suited her-it was good-humoured and bell-like, without being too loud. She had quite a soft voice, but it managed to have a sort of power behind it too, as if she knew exactly what she was doing and how to do it. It was re-assuring. "I didn't think you'd remember me," she giggled. "We met last night, at the dance?"
Blaine's mind flickered…he'd met so many girls that night-well, his mother had dragged them to him in their hundreds…and he'd been so depressed that night, faces and names barely registered…
"I wore a green dress?" she prompted.
He frowned…oh yes. As he was leaving, Rachel was talking to a girl in a green dress. He remembered now…but she'd had her hair up. She'd been one of the later one's to be "introduced" to him, and had been very nice about it when he'd had to excuse himself.
He nodded at her, and she smiled wider, looking a little like Rachel, but with slightly softer, younger features. Sitting down on the chair next to him, she placed her clasped hands in her lap. Her gloves were lace, with a flowery pattern. "I'm Louise," she told him. "Louise Monnewell,"
That name did sound vaguely familiar. "Nice to meet you again," he said politely, trying not to sound too downhearted.
"And you," she answered. There was a small pause as she waited for him to say something back. Blaine felt rude-but he really didn't feel like making small-talk. As nice as this girl seemed.
When the pause became too long, Louise tried again. "How are you?"
"Fine," he answered a little too quickly. He could see, to his surprise-that she saw right though it. Like Rachel-she was obviously very perceptive…
It then occurred to him that one could not really collapse into a chair and moan loudly and sadly without someone noticing and asking questions
"Are you okay?" she asked, gentler.
He didn't answer for a second. Then, carefully: "No. No, I'm not,"
Louise looked surprised. "Oh…Well, not many guys have the guts to admit, so I respect you for that…care to tell me?"
Her voice was softly encouraging. All of a sudden, Blaine felt like crying. It touched him that this almost stranger seemed so genuinely concerned about him, and was willing to give up her time to help him. He liked the way she talked, the British tones, frank, but sensitive too. Her eyes were deep, as if they held secrets. She looked trustworthy, like someone you could easily be a friend of, someone to talk to when you needed…
But he couldn't. He sighed again. "Look…Louise…what would you…I mean…what would you do if you'd just screwed something up- I mean, really screwed it up…and now…" From her face, he could easily see he'd already confused her. But he didn't really want to go into too much detail…that would hurt too much. He made a gesture, trying to convey his feelings. It just made him feel more stupid.
"Sorry," he apologised.
"No, don't say that!" Her eyes were wide, kind pitying. "Don't apologise! It's okay, darling,"
She put a small, slim hand on his shoulder. It was so nice, so comforting-Blaine actually felt tears behind his eyes. He blinked them back determinedly, willing them not to spill and make him look like even more of a prat.
"You're not stupid," she said, as if she'd read his mind. "Don't worry…"
"I don't know what to do," His lips moved without him really telling them to.
Her hand held tighter, squeezing comfortingly, warmly. "Darling…if we never screwed things up, where would we be?"
He looked up, shocked. "What do you mean?"
"Well…what about when the army surgeon Pare ran out of cauterising oil on that battle field? He tried something else-that old Roman method-and it cured the soldiers better, and lead to a better understanding of how to safely treat wounds. I bet Pare considered that to be the best thing that ever happened to him-even though it might have seemed terrible at the time, it went on to help him, right?"
Blaine frowned-but nodded. That was true.
"What I'm trying to say…look, don't let an implication stop you trying to do whatever it is you screwed up. However bad it might seem-maybe it could just make you stronger, make you fight harder," She squeezed his shoulder again. "Is this worth fighting for?"
"Yes," Blaine answered automatically, before he'd even thought about it.
Louise smiled. "Remember, Blaine, nothing is impossible. If you want it badly enough…if it was meant to happen…it'll come. Everyone can do something amazing, if only they have the courage to do it,"
Courage.
Blaine sat up a little straighter. Louise moved her hand in slow circles on his back. "Rachel told me that you haven't had it easy…but look at you. You're still here. Still here, facing the day. That's more than can be said for a lot of people. And if you want something, truly, with all your heart…then you go for it," she told him. "Have the courage to go back and fight for it-and have the courage to carry on. Even if it seems a long-shot…you'll never know unless you try. You could spend your whole life wishing…or you could dive right in and give it everything,"
Blaine looked at her, tears still glistening in his hazel eyes. She looked back, still smiling kindly, sympathising-but her eyes were determined. "Go for it, Blaine. Reach for whatever it is you desire, and never stop fighting. I believe in you,"
Sometimes a few kind words, even from a stranger, can change everything.
Sometimes, fate is kind. It looks upon one with favour, with liking, and decides to grant a wish to a fortunate individual. It senses the helpless, but true longing of someone for someone else…and gives them hope. It puts in a starred, misty, ever-changing hand and makes something happen in the universe, which changes everything. Never big changes…but just enough to turn someone's life in anew direction.
No one ever thinks this hand could strike them. It always happens to someone else. But, once in a millennium…something special happens. Something incredible, to someone very fortunate, why really deserved it.
Such an event occurred on the E deck of the RMS Titanic. And angels smiled when it did.
Upon leaving the lounge, after thanking Louise very much and giving her a hug-Blaine Anderson promptly tripped on some loose carpet and fell down the stairs, knocking him out cold.