I apologize so much for how short this chapter is. I've been writing and rewriting this scene in my head since I started this story, and it never came out right. Then at nine-thirty at night, just as I was about to turn off my laptop, this pops into my head. I hope you like it.
That night couldn't have been long enough. They talked for hours about everything from their parents ("My dad is…the best anyone could ever hope to have," Kurt said admiringly. Blaine just nodded.), to their career aspirations ("Maybe I could teach art at a university somewhere…maybe back home," Blaine beamed.), and their friends back home ("I don't think I would have made it out of high school alive without Mercedes."). It was all wonderful, and then it was over.
They stood outside the door to Blaine's apartment, strangely uncomfortable. Kurt had been there before, but the event of that night still hung in the air, making them both awkward just to think about it.
"I had a great time. Thanks," Blaine stammered out, wringing his hands.
"Me too. I'll see you tomorrow." Kurt smiled and walked away casually towards his hotel. He felt bad leaving Blaine just standing there, but he couldn't take the silence anymore. The anticipation of the unknown felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he needed to leave before he buckled under the pressure.
And a week went by like that.
Taking turns picking places to meet after Blaine got off work, talking about everything and nothing, completely comfortable with each other, every evening was better than the one before…until the goodbye.
The whole thing would usually culminate with a handshake—or if they had enjoyed a particularly nice wine—a silly, casual hug outside of Blaine's door, before Kurt just walked away.
Even that weekend, when Blaine was freed from the shackles of the café, they spent their time at the beach, never running out of things to talk about as they watched the boats or the people in the sand. The weather was perfect, and to them at least, it felt like clouds could never again dampen their moods.
When Wednesday rolled around again, Kurt walked into the coffee shop at nine like he had for the past eight days, greeted Blaine with a smile, and sat down at his usual table with a tourism guide in front of him, As he read through the list of restaurants and cafés they had yet to visit, Blaine kindly corrected his Italian every once and a while, and Kurt made a note in the margins. Life was great: Kurt was having his adventure, and Blaine had stopped thinking long enough to do something he hadn't done in a while—have fun. Neither of them could have been happier than at that moment.
That was, until that night.
After a dinner at a Jazz club Kurt still couldn't pronounce the name of, they walked back the same way they always did, passing down Blaine's street on the way to the hotel.
"That music was fantastic!" Kurt sighed. "Gosh, I wish I knew what they were saying…!"
Blaine laughed. "Becoming bilingual isn't going as well as you'd have hoped?"
"I failed in high school and I failed in college. What made me think I would have any better luck on my own is a complete mystery to me!" Kurt chuckled and shrugged.
There they were. Standing alone on a cobblestone street, under a balcony pulled right out of Rome and Juliet, under a starry sky, just having the best night either of them could have remembered, and they were both just going to walk away. Again.
Suddenly an idea came to Kurt that made the corners of his mouth turn up in a sneaky, but still blissful smile, and sent a rush of energy through him. He reached into his bag quickly, Blaine staring at him all the while, and pulled out the dictionary that only a week ago he had been cursing. Quickly, with practiced motions, he flipped through the first hundred or so pages, coming to a halt around the middle of the book. His eyes scanned the page for a while, before resting upon a word near the bottom.
Speaking slowly, breathlessly, he read aloud, "Bah—chee—are—mee?" He looked expectantly at Blaine, smiling widely.
"I—I am so sorry," Blaine stuttered, confused and apologetic. "I didn't get a single bit—" But before he could finish his sentence, Kurt had flung the book over his shoulder with an exasperated sigh, wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, and kissed him hard on the lips.
It could have been hours that they stood there, absorbed with each other, the world continuing to spin, life going on, but them frozen in the perfect moment. Certainly neither of them cared.
All too soon though, Blaine stepped back a bit, taking in a deep breath, a shocked grin plastered across his blushing face.
Also smiling, Kurt took a step back towards the hotel, leaving with a quick, pleasant, "Buona notte, Blaine."
He watched him go. His eyes never left his slight figure until he faded into the night. Blaine remained frozen to the spot outside his doorstep.
Everything seemed right at that moment. Even the pessimistic, cynical, rebellious naysayer in the corner of his mind that he had fought with for so long was silent. Yes, everything was right.
Were you expecting that? What did you like about it? What didn't you like about it? What would you have wanted to see more of? What have I described to death? What's your favorite animal? It really doesn't matter what you write in your review, just knowing you read my story is enough for me. Anonymous reviews now welcome!
P.S. "baciarmi" means 'kiss me' in Italian. Just in case you didn't get that. ;-]
