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Disclaimer: I own nothing but my wicked mind.
Kurt wakes up to the sound of his phone buzzing, text incoming. When he touches the screen, he notices he has 15 new texts and three missed calls. The calls are from Finn, Mercedes and Tina. He checks the details, and notices they all called while he was talking with his father. The texts are from all of the members of New Directions, and even one from Carole. The texts are polite and friendly, but a bit hesitant, asking how he is, telling they are glad he enjoys the flowers, and some of them wondering if they can come to visit. He answers all of them, telling them he'll let them know about visits later on. It's too soon, he doesn't think he's ready to see them yet, but of course he doesn't say so. It's touching to see how much they care, and Kurt spends the next hour texting with most of them, being updated on Glee gossip and life outside of the ward. Eventually the flow of texts ebbs out, so Kurt finds his Harry Potter-book to read some more chapters. As he opens it, he wonders if Blaine has finished his Italian version of the book.
Kurt is about to begin on the second last chapter, when someone knocks on the door. He urges them in, and it turns out to be Thomas telling him dinner is served.
"How was it to see your father again?"
"Really nice. We're close; I've missed him."
"And on Sunday your brother will be visiting as well. Are you as close?"
Kurt has to think before he answers.
"Maybe we'll get there?" he settles for. He loves his step-brother, and they have become close during the last year. But it's still far to go before they will have the same relationship he has with his father, if they'll ever get there. They are so different, but sometimes that's what makes them go so well together.
"I have to finish your daily report, is it anything I ought to know to add in it before I leave for today?"
Kurt can't think of anything worth mentioning. He is reminded Margaret is his contact person as he heads for the dinner table. He hasn't much of an appetite, though, so after nibbling a bit at his chicken and mostly poking in the rest of the food, he excuses himself and heads back to his book.
Blaine bolts up from his clam pillows, relieved he finally managed to escape from the nightmares that are haunting him. It seems more and more difficult to wake up for every nightmare, and he's forced to go through all the cruel images flashing on his eyelids. The scenarios are usually the same, and even though doctor Whimchester tells him they aren't real and just a foster of his self-punishing imagination, it still shakes him up roughly. He didn't get to do any boxing earlier either, so he was already quite tense and jumpy before he fell asleep, the nightmares not improving his crappy day.
A quick glance at his phone tells him he slept through dinner, and his stomach grumbles. Oh well, it's Friday, so later on there will be some of that snacks the others had made earlier that day. Hopefully it can get is mind off of the nightmares, so he can get a decent night of sleep. Maybe they all will agree on a movie to watch on TV, or some episode of a reality-show. Maybe they will play board games while enjoying the sweets. Blaine suddenly remembers playing five in a row with Kurt, and smiles, the nightmares not as important anymore. He reaches out for his phone. Should he? Can he? Will it seem strange to text someone who may be sitting only a couple of doors away from him? Blaine decides to let Kurt be the one to deal with that question, as he starts to compose a text. He really needs a distraction now, besides, he's curious about the boy and would like to know more about him. A playful smile replaces his previous worried wrinkles. He chuckles as he sends the text. Hopefully, Kurt won't see him as an utter fool.
Kurt's concentration is being disturbed by his phone buzzing on the night stand, alerting an incoming text. But no way is he going to remove his eyes from his Harry Potter-book, with less than ten pages left to read. He huffs, already annoyed with whoever interrupted, and dives into the book again.
Seven pages later, the book is carefully closed in his lap. He exhales. He always feels so empty when a book is finished, and if the book was really good he has a craving for more. He feels exhausted as well, as if he's been participating in the story throughout the pages. He feels all the emotions Harry and his friends go through, and he just wants to reach out and be a part of them, he wants to continue on their journey.
Sadly, it's impossible at the moment, as his father hadn't thought of packing any more books for him. Kurt wouldn't care which books had been packed, 'cause lately reading has been all about distraction for him. When he can disappear in a captivating story, he doesn't have to think about the story of his own life. That's why he had fallen in love with Harry Potter and other books of the fantasy genre. They didn't remind him of his own reality, and offered a great escape.
Kurt remembers seeing some magazines in the common room, so maybe he could borrow some of them instead. They would do for now and hopefully Finn wouldn't mind bringing him some books on Sunday. His father had told him to let them know if he needed anything, so that would have to be OK, right?
Kurt decides to take a shower. The shower room in the hallway is mostly occupied during the mornings, so it's easier to find it available in the evenings.
It's barely a sigh, but it's loud enough to fill the room with thunderous noise. Blaine throws his phone away, and it lands on his foot, and bounces off to the end of his mattress. He whines from the dull pain, smacking himself mentally for his idiocy. Of course Kurt wouldn't answer his stupid text; of course Kurt would think it childish to text someone living in the same ward; and of course Kurt would find the content of his text inappropriate.
Blaine's eyes moisten, and he scolds himself for being so… For being so Blaine! Once again he's proved to himself he's a hopeless, worthless case of a misfitted, misconstructed sore example of a human being. What can he do to make this right again? What can he do to make up for his embarrassing approach to Kurt? Blaine has to make everything perfect again. He shoots his phone a hateful glare, deciding not to touch it until he knows he won't make an ass of himself again, and boots his laptop to continue on his French paper on Le Petit Prince.
Another example of how stupid Blaine is, he should know by now that he's never able to do his home work well enough when he's in such a mood. Even though he knows that, he still isn't listening to himself. That's just how stupid I am, Blaine thinks, pressing his palms to his tired eyes.
The shower did wonders for Kurt, and he steps into a clean pair of loose yoga pants, a white t-shirt, and a McKinley-hoodie with a kangaroo-pocket from his days as a cheerleader. The clothes he wore before the shower are tucked in his other bag, along with the rest of his laundry. He doesn't know what to do with it, but for now he has enough clean underwear for a couple of more days.
He grabs his phone, notices two texts, and remembers the buzzing alerts he had chosen to ignore while finishing his book. He opens the first text as he gets comfortable in his bed. The text isn't from someone in his contact list, and he doesn't recognize the number. Kurt hesitates before continuing. Should he read it? It wouldn't be the first offensive text he gets. His contact list has been gradually extended during his time at school. Not because his limited circle of friends grows, but because he's chosen to save the numbers of his tormentors as they have called and texted him, to help him prevent answering or reading them again. So, his contact list consists of entries like Karofsky, Azimio, Don't Answer This One, You Don't Need To Read This and IGNORE. Sadly, it doesn't help much, as the jocks always find new ways to reach him – he guesses they borrow other's phones to send a quick hurting text. They use payphones, they probably steal some phones, and change numbers once in a while. Some of them have also mastered the art of getting hidden caller-ID. How swell they find ways to improve and challenge their intellect, Kurt thinks sarcastically. He's getting annoyed, and decides to read the texts. He's tired of being scared.
Hey Kurt, it's Blaine. Blaine from the cuckoo's nest, you know. It's Friday, and I need some entertainment. You seem like an interesting guy, so I though maybe you'd participate in a game with me? I suggest "20 questions".
Kurt chuckles at the film reference, blushes a bit when Blaine describes him as an interesting guy, and saddens while thinking about how wrong Blaine is. There is nothing interesting about him. Quickly, Kurt opens the next text as well, as it is from the same number.
Oh, and I play with quite decent rules, I think. You are allowed to pass up to 19 of the questions. Please play with me? Blaine
Kurt laughs at Blaine's eagerness. He had felt reluctant to partake in such a game – why should he open up to a – more or less - complete stranger? How can he trust Blaine with any information about himself? Why would Blaine want to know anything about him, what's his secret agenda? And what if Kurt accidentally says something that freaks out Blaine, making their days at the ward completely embarrassing, humiliating and horrible? But then Blaine goes on and gives Kurt the chance to withhold answers from almost all of the questions. There would have to be one question sooner or later that Kurt would feel comfortable answering? With his book finished, maybe this would be a nice distraction? Then he wouldn't have to go into the common room were the other sit as of yet either. Kurt quickly types out a reply.
I'm intrigued. Do continue.
The buzzing sound has barely finished as Blaine jumps up to retrieve his phone from the end of the bed. With trembling fingers he opens the text, anxious to see who it is from and what it says. He quickly notices it's from Kurt, and he gets nervous. What if the boy is mad at him, yelling at him and calling him on all of his bullshit? Blaine swallows heavily, dreading what the message could be, various suggestions spinning around in his mind.
It's his shaking and sweaty fingers that finally accidentally make him open the text, showing the four words Kurt had texted. A big grin appears on his face, as he leans back, trying to decide what he wants to ask first. Blaine doesn't know it, but his eyes lighten up and get a peculiar glint on them, as he types out the first question.
1) What is your coffee order? Blaine
Kurt laughs out loud when he receives the next text from Blaine. He has no trouble answering that particular question. Now that he can pass on every single one of Blaine's next questions, Kurt relaxes visibly. Now it's just a game of fun and play, and he can enjoy it without dreading anything. He quickly types out his answer, and adding a question for Blaine as well.
Grande non-fat mocha. And you?
Blaine's phone quickly buzzes again, and he eagerly reads the answer, then types back. It may seem like an innocent question, but to Blaine what you drink tells a bit about who you are. Knowing Kurt's coffee order makes him think about the boy as concerned with eating healthy and paying attention to what he puts in his body. But the mocha tells Blaine he also likes the taste of something sweet, preferring it to the more bitter coffee taste. And Blaine can bet Kurt loves his coffee, as he goes for the grande. He pictures Kurt sitting in a coffee house with his friends, clearly enjoying a good cup, chatting animatedly and happily about this and that, spoiling himself to a refill because it's non-fat, getting slightly more vibrant from the big portion of caffeine, and splurging in the delicious liquid. The mental picture is a stark contrast to the silent, guarded and shredded boy he's seeing here at the ward.
Further down the hall, behind another door, Kurt has read Blaine's short answer. Medium drip. Kurt's thinking about how much he feels knowing a person's coffee order reveals something about the personality of said person. Drinking a medium drip seems so mature and adult, and Kurt plays with the thought if Blaine really is that grown up, or if it's to keep up a façade. Surely, he doesn't know the age of the boy, but he seems around his own age, which means he is too young to go all grandpa just yet. The medium drip seems so safe, so boring, so restricted, so limited. Shouldn't he be a playful youth, exploring what life has to offer? There will be enough of possibilities to drink plain coffee later on, but given the choice, why not indulge in other tastes? A medium drip seems so limited, as if he's banning himself from any kind of luxury, as he's preventing himself from the good things in life, even in the form of an unimportant cup of coffee.
Kurt and Blaine sit back in their respective beds, sighing. "I'm curious about you," the boys think for themselves.