Sunday had brought snow, but Dalton remained open for its final week. Blaine sat in home room on Monday worrying that the flurry that had caught him off guard had messed with his hair gel, and, paranoid, kept tracing his fingers over his head.
Trent burst into the room and practically flew into the chair on Blaine's right. "I am still pumped from the Christmas fête!" he cried.
Blaine grinned, his friend's contagious enthusiasm dominating his hair paranoia. "Trent, it was two days ago," he said.
"Even so!" Trent stamped his feet excitedly. "You were amazing. And so was Kurt." His eyes slid across to the seat on Blaine's left. "Speaking of Kurt: isn't he normally here by now?"
Blaine hoped that that comment hadn't been triggered through him wondering the same thing. Ever since Saturday, Blaine had been thinking more and more about Kurt and his suggestion that Blaine "sleep over". Of course, Blaine knew what Kurt had really meant, but, even so, it had got him thinking.
"No, I don't know," Blaine answered casually.
"You don't think he's ill again, do you?" Trent asked, suddenly worried.
"No, I'm sure he's just a little late. There's ages before the bell anyway." Blaine's eyes were drawn to movement at the door. "In fact, speak of the devil..."
Kurt walked into the room in an explosion of snow. He looked like a half-coloured-in drawing, with white in his hair, on his face, on his clothes, and on his desk now he'd thrown his bag on it.
"It is snowing like there is no tomorrow out there," Kurt moaned. "And if it carries on, there won't be."
Blaine laughed and stood up to help Kurt brush snow off his blazer. "This much snow got on you in the time it took to walk from your car inside?" he chuckled.
Kurt groaned. "It's got in my hair!" he cried woefully.
Blaine stopped finding it quite so funny and immediately leapt into rescue mode, acting as Kurt's eyes or the occasional extra hand while Kurt performed emergency styling, using the reflection of himself in the window.
It was stunning to watch Kurt when he was concentrating so hard. Blaine noticed that Kurt's lips parted as his tongue unconsciously moved to the back of his mouth while he was thinking. There were a few snowflakes half-melting on Kurt's eyelashes, and they made his eyes seem to glint in the morning light. Even though he was frowning in panic, his forehead was barely furrowing; Blaine made a mental note to ask Kurt about his infamous moisturising regime sometime.
Blaine didn't realise he was being so conspicuous at gawping at Kurt until Trent cleared his throat loudly and raised his eyebrows. What are you doing?
At this point, Blaine all but leapt backwards away from Kurt, but luckily Kurt had finished doing his hair and didn't notice.