Bright...bright...
Squinting, Kurt rolled over, away from the sunlight streaming across the sofa, and almost fell off. He caught himself in time, but the surge of adrenaline had his heart pounding.
Sitting up, he blinked awake and rolled his shoulders. The neighbourhood was quiet, and he guessed it was probably around 8 am. Far too early to be awake on a Sunday.
Unfortunately, he doubted he'd be able to fall asleep again on the sofa. It was a bit old and not very comfortable. Standing up, he twisted his upper body as he ambled to the washroom, trying to loosen up the stiff areas.
He splashed water on his face, but he still looked tired. They had argued late into the night, until Blaine marched into the bedroom and slammed the door. He opened it a couple minutes later to toss out Kurt's pillow and a blanket.
On autopilot, Kurt made a big pot of coffee. As it brewed, he put the watering can in the sink and filled it.
With a full mug in one hand and a heavy watering can in the other, Kurt made his way on to their tiny balcony. He set the watering can down, and wrapped his robe tight around his body as he curled up on one of the wicker patio chairs.
His hands were cupped around the hot mug, and he inhaled deeply. Rich, complex aromas were almost better than the first sip. He savoured them, feeling more awake with each one.
Looking out, he could see the city moving at a slightly slower pace than frenetic weekdays. People were out walking their dogs, jogging and riding bicycles. Others walked with friends, perhaps heading off for brunch.
By the time he finished his coffee, Kurt was fully awake. Unfortunately, it brought back the memories of last night. The fight. Who had started it? What? Was it because Blaine had one too many at that party? Was it seeing Adam and talking with him a bit too long?
Kurt sighed, setting down his empty mug and picking up the watering can. It sloshed a bit as he tipped it, streams of water coming out the spout to rain gently over the flower beds.
His mind was far away though, cringing as he remembered the cutting remarks they had both said to each other last night. Was this just a repeat of the last time they had tried to live together? Having the best intentions but ultimately making each other miserable?
They had been so careful, living apart while they were at NYADA. They were together so much at school and with their friends, it was good to have their own places to retreat to, even though they both had roommates. Even though they often slept over at each other's places, having furtive, almost silent sex if the roommates were around.
After graduation, it had been a mutual agreement that they were older and wiser now. They were ready to try living together again.
Kurt was drawn back to the present by realizing that the flowerpot was almost overflowing with water. He set it down on the ground with a thunk, and covered his face with his hands. His cheeks were wet with tears streaming down his face.
Hugging his knees to his chest, he dropped his face into the thick material of his robe and let it all out. Last night he'd been a little drunk and too angry. This morning, he just felt sad. Was it all hopeless? Was this second attempt at living together a failure as well? The thought had a fresh surge of tears flowing from his eyes.
Eventually, the storm of emotions faded, and he wiped his cheeks dry with his robe. Feeling a bit detached and numb, he picked up the watering can to finish the other pot.
The sun was getting stronger now, glinting off the streams of water as they flowed over the leaves of the flowers. The pale, cracked soil darkened with the water, soaking it all up. The intense blue bellflowers had always been Kurt's favourite.
He shifted his hand so the water went to the flowers on the other side of the pot. The geraniums were a beautiful rich red, but seemed so blasé. Kurt sighed to see some of the blooms were shrivelled up, either from not enough water or just being done.
In the middle, cheerful pansies in purple, lavender and magenta threatened to overflow the side of the pot.
Kurt swallowed hard as the last of the water flowed out of the can. He thought back to that day in the nursery. Holding hands as they debated over which pots to pick, which flowers to plant.
"How about these?"
"Geraniums! What, are you 90? Those are so old fashioned!"
Blaine was undeterred, picking up a pot of the deep red blooms. "I like them."
Kurt scoffed, holding his pot of bellflowers next to them. "They don't go together at all!"
"They are flowers, Kurt, not a fashion ensemble," Blaine chuckled, leaning in to steal a kiss.
"Every moment of your life is an opportunity for fashion," Kurt quipped back, but with a bit of a smirk. "I just want our apartment to look as stylish as we can afford."
Blaine sighed, and put the geraniums down. "OK. But we will need to get some other types of flowers to fill up the pots." He turned, letting go of Kurt's hand to look around at the other plants.
Kurt stood there, alone, holding his pot of bellflowers. Shaking his head, he set it down beside the geraniums.
In a couple steps, he was taking Blaine's hand, and they picked out a selection of pansies together. A mixture of different purples, violets and lavender shades.
They had planted the flowers together in a pots. Blaine had talked about his aunt always having flower boxes full of red geraniums. Kurt talking about how the intense blue of the bellflowers reminded him of his mother's favourite dress. The pansies worked well with everything.
Swallowing hard, Kurt deadheaded the flowers, cleaning them all up to grow well a while longer.
He took the debris to the compost bin, and tucked the watering can and empty mug away.
In a cupboard, he found a tiny vase and put a few of the fresh flowers into it. He took out a piece of paper and wrote a note, and propped it against the vase where Blaine would se it.
Grabbing his gym bag, Kurt was soon out the door.
...
Blaine woke up, knowing something was wrong. Different. Kurt's side of the bed was empty and cold.
Oh yeah. The fight.
Sighing, Blaine rubbed his eyes and tried to even remember what had caused it. It really hadn't been over anything, just a build up of bad emotions that got triggered.
The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Feeling bad, Blaine got up to use the washroom, and then went into the kitchen. It was so clear Kurt wasn't around, but hadn't been gone too long. The coffee was still warm.
Blaine poured himself a cup and leaned back against the counter to sip it. Where would Kurt have gone? To Rachel's, to rehash every bit of the argument, no doubt painting Blaine in the worst light? Or out to brunch with friends, likely doing the same with them?
It was possible, but unlikely. He would have woken up if Kurt had come into the bedroom to get clothes. And he wouldn't have met with friends wearing the casual stuff he wore around the apartment.
So, he had either thrown on a big coat to go for a walk in the park to brood on his own, or ...
Blaine glanced over to the doorway area and felt a surge of relief. Kurt's gym bag was gone. He must be in a slightly better mood to go to the gym.
It was then that he saw the small vase with its small collection of blue, purple and red flowers. And the folded note with his name scrawled across it.
Heart beating a bit faster, half in fear, half in excitement, he unfolded the paper.
Blaine,
I'm sorry about last night. I think we both said things we didn't mean.
I'm at the gym, and I'll probably swim and soak in the hot tub for a while.
Want to watch 'Moulin Rouge' when I get back? I'll pick up some absinthe if you want to get out some candles and blankets.
XOXOX
Kurt
Blaine brushed away a tear that had trickled down his face, reading the short note.
After all these years, he knew exactly what Kurt had said. The fight was forgiven and Kurt was just taking a little time away. Something he needed occasionally.
The last part said he wanted time with Blaine. Moulin Rouge had been special to them since high school, a movie they both loved. Cuddling together under some blankets, holding hands and singing the songs to each other was just their thing. The absinthe would ensure they were both relaxed, and would likely lead to some intense make-up sex by the time the credits ran.
Blaine sprang into action. He stripped the bed and put the sheets in the wash. He tidied the apartment, and set out the candles and their fluffiest blankets on the sofa. Kurt's pillow went back to the bed where it belonged. He even cut up vegetables, cheese and other things they could nibble on while they watched the movie, just wanting everything to be perfect.
...
-A/N: Inspired by 'Just the Two of Us' by Grover Washington Jr.
...Just the two of us...we can make it if we try...
-I tried to participate in the Klaine Valentine's Challenge 2020, but I was only able to write this one short piece for it. I kept either getting no ideas from the prompts, or ideas that would take a few weeks to write. Writing short fics is HARD! Lol