A/N: I know, I know but…but it reached 500 reviews and I wanna cry cos you guys are so wonderful and lovely and…come over here *haggles you all tightly* I just wanted to give a little goodbye present before I left, I hope you all like this chapter. Thank you so much to anyone who reviewed and OHHH OHHHH
Look at this: http:/ sleepwalkerindreamersclothing . tumblr . com /post/9038439533/art-for-lpbekkas-incredible-story-haute-couture
I'm not kidding I look at this and…oh gosh it sounds so conceited and I feel like I shouldn't admit it but I just keep imagining it as like a book cover, like if I was to get this published that THIS would be the cover, its wonderful!
Sorry, but I think by now you've noticed my A/N's can become long winded x3 I'm kinda getting tired, its almost 4am and I'm supposed to be up in time to get to this place to meet my friends to get a lift for five hours to another friends and ugh, lots of travelling. Anyhoo I love you all so much thought I hope you know that :* I'ma try reply to all reviews xxxx sorry if I'm spamming your inbox :(
D/C: not true so don't sue x
…..
That evening was miserable. Even the weather matched his mood. Kurt left the home of Blaine Anderson to find rain splashing around him. He gazed up into the dark morning sky, surprised that it was daylight hours, because it certainly didn't appear to be so. The clouds grouped in big ominous bundles in the sky, shutting out nearly all light. It had been so beautiful the last few days, but now the weather reflected Kurt's feelings. He felt water run down his cheeks, unbeknownst to him whether they were rain drops or tears.
Lowering his head, Kurt wished for a coat rather than the old shirt he wore. He rushed through the streets, standing in a puddle of water that spilled over his ankles. The young brunette hissed, shaking a foot as he moved away from the water. His clothes were soaked through and his body was slick with rain water. His heart ached as he thought about Blaine sending him away. He had ruined everything. His mind was so preoccupied that he had failed to notice the absence of paparazzi around Blaine's home. The news world moved fast, there was more scandals, more lies to be uncovered. Blaine's fifteen minutes of fame were up.
Kurt didn't notice any of this, he just rushed along the street, his head downcast, heart racing.
That kiss ran through his mind repeatedly as he managed not to slip on the wet path while he rushed through the street. He wanted to be as far away from Blaine as he could, but at the same time, more than anything, he yearned to be close.
He was so angry and confused. Why had the man done this to him? Raising his hopes for those precious seconds, only to dash them? It hurt so much and his heart was screaming in agony and torment, tears running down his rain-drenched face.
It was so confusing, the way Blaine had spoken to him. He had given him the impression that he cared for him in a way similar to how Kurt felt. But that that kiss... It had been so passionate, his lips were still tingling and he could still taste him amidst the rain water and saline tears. No one had ever kissed him like that, with so much fervor and need. His breath was almost taken with just the thought. He had to stop his running, grip onto a lamppost and close his eyes. His chest was hurting from the lack of air he was able to get into his lungs.
"Why…" He whispered, the rain falling from the heavens and soaking his slender, aching body as the tears slipped from his face, joining the puddles on the ground.
While Kurt was seemingly falling apart, Blaine was packing, shoving his clothing into a case. He had to get away, he just had to. He gathered all his clothing, caring very little about the expensive items as he balled them into the satchel. He had frustrated tears running down his cheeks and he hiccupped loudly. His lips were burning and as he rushed his packing, he could see the kiss replaying behind his eyes almost as if he was hovering over the situation, looking down below. He had claimed he was weak and pulled the young man forward, latching their lips together in the most wonderful embrace he had experienced in his twenty four years.
The designer shivered and attempted to shake the image, the memory of the kiss out of his head. He knew he would never experience feelings like this again, he just knew deep inside his sad heart. His eyes grew unwillingly hot as he recalled the look on Kurt's face as he promised him that he would stay, but...
Would he?
Would he stay, waiting, hoping for Blaine?
He was only human after all…
Blaine felt unwillingly jealous at the thoughts of Kurt with anyone else. His stomach flipped in a sickly manner and he closed his eyes, wrapping his hands around his torso as he glanced around at the empty room.
He had really left…he had gone…Blaine had foolishly hoped that the young man would stay with him, insisting that Blaine not go. But he had not.
'Maybe he doesn't love me.' Blaine thought to himself as he ran his fingers through his hair and sat beside the case he had been packing. He knew it was selfish and self-centred but he couldn't help but feel as if Kurt's leaving was a sign meaning he didn't care for him anymore. Hypocritical considering what he himself was about to do but that thought was far from his mind right now.
"Damn it!" The young man growled, standing and picking up the rest of his clothing and tossing it into the bag. He just had to leave. He needed to get out of here, away from this house, this city…this personal hell...
The young man stretched his hand out and picked up a photo from the locker. It was an old, worn, black and white picture of he as a child and his father. His father, a simple Irish farmer, a kindly man and even in the photo he was smiling. He paused, looking to the picture. Where was this taken? He had actually never thought about it before but he didn't know where…
He pulled it close to his face, anything to distract himself from the pain in his heart, and examined the background. It was a beautiful landscape with large trees with what he thought to be fully blooming cherry blossoms, although the photo was colourless, so he couldn't be certain. If he looked hard enough he could see some kind of house behind some of the trees. It began to bother him, why did he recognize the house? What was so familiar about it?
After some minutes of contemplation he finally remembered. While he had lived in America his uncle had bought property in Japan. He was a good man, kind to Blaine's family and the designer could vividly remember spending a summer at the beautiful home. Was in fact that trip which had encouraged Blaine as he grew older to go to the beautiful country and study there.
He hadn't been at his uncle's home in such a long time. He could remember running through the cherry blossoms as a child, feeling so free in the large, landscaped garden. As he recalled such small memories he remembered how his uncle had claimed that once he was older he would retire to the home in Osaka.
Perhaps that was where he should go to clear his head. He was certain his uncle would not mind, they exchanged letters and the man had often requested he come to visit. It would be good for the designer. Get away from Paris for a while, from work, from…him…
'I can't keep thinking about him.' he muttered, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. Enough was enough, these feelings he suddenly found himself harbouring were just killing him. He had to just get out of here and forget about all of this. It was utter madness.
…
It had been a long time since Kurt had drank more than a glass or two of wine at a social event but tonight he simply did not care. The glass in front of him was empty and he had his head on the counter of the shabby bar. There weren't many people around. It was a dank place, just one single moderate sized room with small circular, oak tables scattered around in no particular pattern.
Two old men were in the corner, chattering in French and occasionally laughing then yelling at one another. There were also a few people far too young to be here, especially at this time of night but who was Kurt to judge? They had about as much a right to be here as he had of dressing up as a woman and ruining the life of the only man he ever loved.
"Another one!" He insisted, opening his eyes and gazing at the table beneath him as he stretched out, somehow blindingly finding his glass. His hand wound around it almost crushing it with his bare hand before he slammed it against the table so hard, it was a miracle it didn't break. When he was about to yell again, the publican stretched out and gripped his wrist, scolding him in French for his etiquette.
Kurt glared upward, lifting his head off the table.
"S'il vous plait?" He said in a tone dripping with distain. He didn't like this barman, in fact right now he didn't like anyone.
His eyes were red, bloodshot and wet. He was pale and his clothes were soaked through, his hair plastered to his forehead from the sudden downfall of rain he had ran through on his way to the bar.
The barman rolled his eyes and reluctantly got the young man another glass of bourbon. Kurt thanked him in slurry French, picking it up and knocking back the stong drink in one shot. His face screwed up at the taste as he swallowed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His sleeves were dirty from where he had fallen while running, somewhere close to the Seine, right in a filthy puddle. Thankfully he had caught himself to prevent real injury.
He felt so pathetic after he chased away the only man he had ever had true feelings for. As he wallowed in self pity, the barman got him another shot, not even having to be asked. Kurt picked it up, squeezing his eyes shut before he opened them and lifted the shot glass upward in salute.
"Here's to you…" He said in a slurry tone. "May you… not… make the mistakes I did..."
He threw his head back, drinking when he suddenly felt something cold against his stomach. He grew confused and glanced down. He hadn't spilt anything on himself so he stretched his hand underneath the hem of his top, feeling the cool metal against his fingertips. With a considerable struggle, he found the locket in his grasp and grinned dumbly in ignorant triumph.
He then removed the trinket from its place inside his shirt and stared at it. First off, he noticed the silver chain that extended from his hand and frowned in confusion. His concentration faltered for a moment and he then unclasped his fingers from the fist they were making.
Sitting in his hand was a silver locket with a mother of pearl exterior. For some moments he frowned but then opened it and his eyes widened. Blaine gave it to him….so long ago, he had totally forgotten about it. He wore it all the time until it had felt like a part of him. Until now.
With some intricacy, he opened the locket and gazed inside. It had had a blank spot that would hold a photo but some months ago Kurt had found a beautiful picture of Blaine and….Simone, in the paper. He had torn it out, placing it in the locket.
Opposite the picture was written 'Ma Muse.'
Kurt felt his eyes grow hot as he realized yet again what he lost. He was about to throw his arms against the counter and bury his head in them, crying when he felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. He jumped in surprise and glanced behind him, wondering who on earth it could be, hopeful it was…
"Kurt… Hummel?" A voice said and he nodded, his sight went blurry for a moment and he nodded, watching as some very large, blurry figure sat beside him.
"Who are you?" He asked, glaring in an unimpressed manner as the man smiled gently and waved the barman over.
"A…friend." He answered and Kurt doubted that. "Two drinks, the strongest you have."
Kurt's opinion of the man swiftly changed as he perked up, sitting straight, deciding this guy was his friend after all. Honestly? Right now he needed a friend and he didn't want to bother Samuel and David anymore than he had these last few days.
A small shot of something that smelt strongly of…well…alcohol, was placed on front of Kurt who didn't hesitate in gripping it and downing in one gulp. He slammed both fist and glass onto the table with a yelp as the liquid burned down his oesophagus.
"It is strong…" He claimed, shaking his head as the stranger gave him the second glass. Dave had no plans to get drunk tonight.
"Well now, alcohol makes everything better." Kurt just mumbled in response, not sure if he agreed or not. He turned to the man, pausing for a moment before leaning into him.
"What's your name?" He asked, an eyebrow raised as he almost fell off the stool he was perched upon. He let out a squeal and gripped onto the countertop, trying to hold himself. The man laughed and helped him sit up.
"I'm David. As I said…I'm a friend.." Kurt looked to him for some seconds, deciding that the man on front of him certainly wasn't Robert's lover and then glanced back to his now empty glass. He looked sombre and his eyes were even redder and sadder.
"I could really use a friend." He said sadly, not realizing that Blaine had said that to him the evening before. He fiddling gently and Dave rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, we are all just friends here..." He was proud of himself. This definitely had to be the right Kurt Hummel. Dave's only brother Colin worked for the news paper and literarily the night before had snapped a shot of this man with Blaine Anderson. The paper was not out until next week, the picture along with it but Dave had gotten a sneak peek and did his own investigation into this man.
Unexpectedly, Kurt leaned into the man and rested his head on his shoulder. Dave smiled gently and stroked his hair. He wasn't quite sure what his plans were quite yet but he knew he was glad to have his hands on this man, at least to discover more about Blaine.
The man didn't want to ruin Blaine for nothing. He hated him, had for so long. Both had worked hard for Mr. Montgomery, David as a trainee in design, hoping Mr Montgomery's contacts would help him succeed in his workplace of choice and Blaine as his driver. A teenage boy who drove the man around day in and day out. David had even had some rides in the car yet somehow this boy with nothing to his name had become Montgomery's favorite even though Dave's parents forked out a mint to get the internship.
Dave thought it'd be hard for Kurt to open up to a complete stranger but an hour and countless shots and drinks later, he was spilling every single little detail, even including their very few sex acts.
"Really?" Dave asked in fake shock when the man confessed the drama at the fashion show. Kurt nodded.
"I could not…could not take it anymore..." He explained with a down and out tone as he closed his eyes, struggling to stay seated on the barstool. "H-he proposed…to her and…and I've loved him since I met him I swear…" He began to tear up but brushed them away haphazardly. "It's not fair! He just…just loved her…and then…then yesterday he didn't recog….recognize me and…invited me back and then…then today he was kissing me and…I'm so confused…." He broke down crying and Dave held him, an eyebrow raised. Blaine Anderson…kissed Kurt Hummel, not Simone? He kissed him knowing full well he was a man?
"Well, just go back to him and apologize again." He said softly, keen to find out the details between said kiss and Kurt now drunk and clinging to him. The brunette shook his head.
"N-no…" He whispered, shaking his head and sobbing dryly as he choked back the tears that threatened to pass passed the barriers of his eyelids. "No, he doesn't w-want me anymore…he'll run away...b-before he'd consider loving me…." David's eyes widened. Blaine Anderson was running away?
"W-where is he going Kurt?" the young man asked, wanting really to know. Was the famed designer leaving here forever? Was the market finally open for the ambitious young man?
"I..I do not know…I…." Kurt finally let a real sob pass his lips but seconds later he found himself throwing up on the elder male. David's eyes widened in disgust as he pushed Kurt off his body.
"Disgusting!" He growled as the barman came over with some napkins. Kurt tried to stand up, getting off his chair but his legs gave way and he fell onto a heap on the ground. Dave, still looking repulsed at the vomit that trickled down his fine silk shirt. He swallowed the angry words that threatened to rise and wiped the mess away with the tissues, mumbling incoherently underneath his breath.
"I'm sorry." Kurt said, closing his eyes as he lay there, unmoving. Dave glanced down to him, scrutinizing the young man. Would it really be in his best interest to help him? If he got close to Kurt, he would be closer to Blaine…but if Blaine was leaving, then there was no point in wasting his time and effort on the chap.
Without even another glance, he stood over the drunk and walked out of the bar. His hands were now in his pockets as he strolled through the shabby pub. No one looked up, no one offered to help the brunette who somehow managed to lift himself shakily onto his legs, arm around his stomach.
Kurt was far too proud to accept help when the barman offered to walk him outside. He just waved his hand, flailing in a drunken manner as he knocked over a large stool on his way to the exit. He left the bar just as Dave was climbing into a grand car. Somehow the young brunette managed to summon up enough balance to sprint toward the car in time to stop the door closing.
"What the..." the young designer gasped out and glared at Kurt. "You!"
"Who are you?" Kurt asked drunkenly as he struggled to stand, holding onto the door of the car. "Who… you are not a friend… you said you were a friend, but a friend would not leave… they would not… not even when you tell them to...
He stopped and bit his lip, thinking of this morning when he had left Blaine. He wanted to be a friend to the young man, but he had left him, even though Blaine had said to leave…he shouldn't have…
"Oh god.." The young man muttered, so confused. He had been hurting… Blaine had practically kissed him and announced his leaving all in one breath…
God, that sounded so selfish. He was so disappointed with himself as he rested his arm on the top of the door and cried into it, sobbing softly, shoulders bouncing.
The driver asked Dave if he should take care of the drunk but the designer sighed and shook his head. He stood out of the car, not wanting to do this but perhaps Kurt could be of some help… someday…
"I'm sorry, Kurt." The smooth, dark haired man said, stepping out of the car and resting a hand on his shoulder.
Kurt was sobbing, just so heartbroken. He felt a pair of arms wind around him, pulling him close to a larger body. Dave was huge and strongly built. The young man whimpered, burying his face against Dave's shoulder, the scent of vomit wafting off his shirt, almost encouraging Kurt to throw up again. He pulled back, stroking his forehead and eyes, knuckling tears away.
"I-I am sorry.." He whispered, knowing he had been out of line and utterly hypocritical.
"It is okay." Dave said softly, indicating to the car. "Come now, I'll take you home…" The brunette thanked him softly and got in. Dave smiled softly, he wasn't quite sure how or if he'd even be of any good but he would stay in Kurt's good graces… at least for now…
…
It was late that night… or early in the morning, Blaine wasn't exactly sure which. The sun wasn't up yet, so he just stayed silent as the car drove him through the quiet streets of Paris.
It was almost dead, but at the same time there was something a little magical about the city at this hour. Maybe that was because right now there was a chance that this would be his last time to lay eyes on the town where he would forever harbour so many memories both wonderful and horrible.
Blaine felt like he had left a mark on the city, even if it was only small. Now after all that happened, he felt like his fifteen minutes in the limelight were up. He had clawed his way to the top of fashion, his clothes were in every boutique in the world. He had made a name for himself in this city and had also lost his heart there. But after what happened this week he would never be remembered for his work. He would forever be remembered as the man who made a fool of himself, who gave his heart to a sham, a lie.
He looked out to those streets wondering where the man who monopolized his mind was. Was he back dressed in fine gowns on the arm of another man? Parading around behind a mask? Blaine's heart ached as he thought of him, he thought of his love.
He regretted sending Kurt away, but the fact was, he needed to get away. Right now the brunette American was the only thing keeping him here. He closed his eyes, heart aching but he just had to go. He sat back in his seat, one hand on the knob of his cane and the other rested upon his suitcase as he was driven away to the docks to start a new chapter.
…
A/N: I feel like giving a warning XD Dave isn't going to play an important role in this, actually his role is very minimal, he is here to give Kurt somewhat of a storyline while Blaine sorts himself out. The next 2-3 chapters are gonna be set over long spaces of time but it's gonna be condensed to keep the story flowing. Blaine won't be gone for long [reading wise XD] I promise! I swear I can't wait for some of you guys to read some of the future chapters, I'm excited xD
Edited by the beautiful BreeTwee right here on FF :)
P.S. Don't forget me ;_;