Review.
p.s. if only I owned Glee...*sigh*
It's short. I'm sorry. :(
I've been soo busy lately.
Forgive me?
"I love you".
Day 3 (2 to go)
Kurt pushed a few fingers through his hair. His phone was pressed into his palm. Sam was number five on his speed dial.
He was ready.
But he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his car and drive away. Drive back home, drive to Dalton, drive anywhere.
Anywhere but here.
But there was a tugging in his heart. An odd, entirely new pull on his emotions that kept him grounded.
Because if he left, Puck would find out the hard way that it had all been a game.
And if it was the last thing that Kurt did, he would prevent that.
Because suddenly, it wasn't a game anymore. It wasn't a bet. It wasn't fake. Somehow, everything had evolved.
Kurt pressed his fingers into his temple, eyelids fluttering closed.
He was going to win the bet for Sam.
And then, he was going to fix things.
Puck fiddled with the lock on his locker. He hadn't bothered the memorize the combination; he never brought anything other than himself (or the occasional backpack, filled usually with candy and booze), so there was no reason to confuse himself with more numbers.
The only reason he was standing there, the only reason why he wasn't out tormenting Jacob or shooting spit balls at the back of Figgins' head as he walked to his office was Kurt.
Kurt, who had sent him a short "be at your locker at 8:25" text.
He could almost hear his heart pounding through his thin tee shirt. Kurt always made his heart do that. It beat so quickly, he felt like he was going to pass out or something.
Only he never did, because Kurt's fingers would always brush his, and he felt safe. Calmer. Happy.
But today, when Kurt's slim figure sashayed through the front door and he stopped a few feet from Puck's face, he didn't reach out. He didn't casually brush invisible lint of Puck's shoulder, he didn't sweep a hand over a nonexistent wrinkle.
The soprano didn't touch him at all.
He just stared into Puck's face, searching it for a moment, and then said, "I think we need to stop."
"Stop what?"
Kurt cocked a eyebrow. He lifted a few fingers and tugged the fancy collar of his jacket away from his neck. A red bruise contrasted with the smooth porcelain skin. "That."
"Why?" Puck reached over and pulled the collar back up, glancing around to see if anyone had been watching them. No one - not even Israel, who was known for his snooping - was looking their way.
"I...I refuse to be used."
Puck shook his head. "You're the one who started everything! You and those stupid skinny jeans!" Which, of course, Kurt happened to be wearing at that moment. Puck had to seize a deep breath and the rest of his self control not to stare down at his long, sexy legs. "Listen, Kurt. I like you."
"You like my body." It was acidic; Kurt's eyes were cold. "That's all you 'like' me for."
"No, that's-"
His knuckles had turned white from clutching the strap of his messenger bag so tightly. "And even if you did 'like' me, that's not enough, Puckerman."
He wasn't enough.
Puck felt his heart jump into his throat. Finn's words were echoing through his head like a broken record.
You're not a bad guy or anything. You just...Kurt deserves something more like...That kid Blaine from Dalton, you know?
He fought the urge to punch something.
Maybe they were right.
Maybe he wasn't good enough.
He wanted to walk away, shrug his shoulder indifferently and forget about everything that happened between them.
He wanted to forget Kurt's warm lips, his pretty smile, his witty eloquence.
The way he felt when he was around the soprano, how he felt when Kurt kissed him, how Kurt's skin felt against his lips.
He wanted to forget everything.
But suddenly, words started pouring out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"I like when you laugh. And when you say sarcastic things, even though it makes me feel stupid. And when you laugh at the dumb things Finn does, I want to kiss you. I don't really know why, though. And I love the way your hair smells. It's kinda like coconut or something. And I love the taste of your lips. And you're really, really hilarious."
Kurt's eyebrows had disappeared into his bangs; his bottom lip trembled.
"Most of the time, I just want to be close to you. Most of the time, I go crazy when you're not around. Basically, Kurt, I fucking love you."
:O
Did Puck just LOSE? Ohhh shizz! ;)
Reviewwww.
More soon, I promise.
