Hello guys! Here's another short little chapter:) Enjoy!
It was an elegant square of space. On the far left was a magnificent built-in wardrobe, and next to it stood a Victorian ivory dressing table on which tubes and jars of moisturizing products were lined in straight neat rows. At the other end, there lay a small cream colored couch with gold trimmings and matching cushions. A dual layer of gauzy and richly textured curtains cascaded down the full-length windows. Positioned in the middle was a classic canopy bed gracefully enswathed in diaphanous drapes and covered in maroon-and-cream matte satin sheets.
A slim figure lay comfortably beneath the luxurious fabrics, his dark curls forming a stark contrast against the cream-colored pillows. He lay on his side, body facing the left. One hand was tucked under his face while the other was sprawled carelessly over the sheets. His long dark lashes fanned out beautifully on his cheeks and his lips were curved in a small, contented smile.
A man sat on the edge of the bed, his head half-turned towards the sleeping figure. He sat stiffly on the far left, keeping a distance between them. Any inch closer and he would be able to smell the tangy scent of his shampoo and feel the comforting warmth of his body. He couldn't risk moving closer, for he needed to repel the flood of vivid images that were threatening to shred every last bit of his sanity. He mustn't let them haunt him – those memories of them snuggled tightly in each others' arms, tangled beneath the sheets and lost in the delicious burning touch of flushed naked skin against the cool satin sheets.
He blinked away his tears and shifted his gaze away from the bed. He shouldn't be here, definitely not back in their apartment with Blaine lying there right next to him. The image had deceptively created far too much of a semblance of normality; it almost drew him to believe that Blaine had never left. With every moment he spent in the past, every episode he revisited, the path back to the present was becoming more convoluted. Kurt sighed and got off the bed, casting one more look at the sleeping man with the beautifully peaceful expression on his face.
"Miss you little soufflé."
It was a mumble, sudden and unexpected yet so faint and muffled that it almost went unnoticed. Kurt sat down on the bed, leaning slightly towards the man lying under the covers. Blaine's eyes were still tightly shut.
"Miss your hands. 'Cause they're warm. And soft. And smooth. And they smell nice."
Kurt remembered that Blaine had a tendency to talk in his sleep, and his sleep-talking would become more pronounced every time he was feeling stressed or upset. He recalled that this was the night that Kurt had to leave the country to attend an overseas conference; it was the very first time that Blaine had spent the night alone in their new apartment.
"Miss your soft brown hair that gets into my eyes every time I hug you from behind."
Blaine rolled slightly over to the left side of the bed such that his right forearm was now beneath his chest. Each rise and fall of the breath appeared to be amplified.
"Miss the sound your glass bottles of creams make when you fiddle with them every night."
He stretched his left arm. It lay mere centimeters away from Kurt's lap.
"Miss the smell of that moisturizer you use on alternate Sunday nights. I mean the lavender one. Not the weird one that smells of old mushroom.
His head had shifted towards the other pillow. The scent of his shampoo grew stronger.
"I think I miss you humming in bed too. Though I know I complain all the time about it being a major cause of insomnia."
Blaine smiled against the pillow as Kurt reached out instinctively to stroke his hair.
"Miss your lips. And your silky smooth sweet body. And your tingling touch. And the amazing sounds you make when I – "
A palm was placed lightly on Blaine's lips, effectively cutting off the words that had tumbled out of his mouth. Seconds ticked by in silence. Kurt brushed his thumb tenderly across those full, soft lips and allowed himself, for a moment, to be swept away by the all-so-familiar sensation.
"Mmmm..You have Kurt's fingers. Soft and delicious."
Kurt tried to pull his hand away from the sleeping man's face but it was as if his fingers had developed a life on their own. They lingered on Blaine's forehead and traced the contours of his nose and cheekbones before finally landing on the rough patch of stubble on his chin.
"You feel and smell too much like Kurt Hummel. Is that you, baby?"
"No."
"Yes you are. You touch me exactly the same way Kurt does. I can recognize it anywhere, darling. You're Kurt, I'm sure."
"You're dreaming, Blaine."
"Oh." Blaine shifted his body further to the left and before Kurt could react, Blaine's arm had already swung over his thigh. "Yeah I guess. You're away and won't be back for another two nights at least, how tragic. Oh but at least we met in my dream so that's actually not too bad..."
The lyrics of a song played soundlessly in Kurt's mind.
I know you, I met you once upon in a dream...
"I like this dream, Kurt. You feel so real..."
Was all that we had nothing but a dream?
Kurt lifted the hand away from his lap.
"Please baby, don't leave yet.."
It's you who have left me, Blaine.
"Do you have to go away so soon? I'll miss you."
I have my reasons. Did you?
His heart bled with agony and bitter resentment. He swung his legs off the bed.