What on earth would possess someone to hit on Blaine? Kurt thought angrily, feeding Pavarotti through the bars of his cage. He caught himself, and took a deep breath. Blaine wasn't his property - and seemingly never would be. But even so.
It had been nearly half an hour since he'd fired off a text to Mercedes:
You free to talk? X
Kurt wondered what was keeping her. She was usually so prompt.
He kept spinning that day's Warblers meeting over in his mind. Blaine standing up, doing that little subconscious tic of smoothing out his sleeve by flexing his wrist, catching Kurt's eye oh so briefly, and uttering the three life-changing words: I'm in love.
I'm.
In.
Love.
And not with me, Kurt added bitterly in his head. With some poncy junior manager at the Gap.
How old did that make him? Was that not really creepy? Blaine wasn't even of age yet. Were there not laws against this sort of thing? It made Kurt feel sick - though maybe because he'd thought that Blaine had wanted to sing to him.
You know my coffee order?
Of course I do.
Kurt hugged his pillow close to his chest and bit the inside of his cheek.
I'm.
In.
Love.
Was that how people acted when they were in love? Had he been sending out wrong signals?
He'd been friendzoned so badly that Blaine didn't even realise that what he was doing was flirting. What a disaster.
They'd kissed. Kissed. Did that not mean anything to Blaine? Was Kurt just a one-time thing, then? Bit tipsy from rum cake, under the mistletoe, never going to happen again?
Kurt couldn't hold back a sob.
I'm.
In.
Love.
Well, thought Kurt, I'm in love with you and I'd tell you if I thought you'd reciprocate.
Kurt's phone buzzed. He glanced down at it, and, to his surprise, saw a message from Hugo.
I'm sorry about today, that must have sucked. You doing okay?
As much as Kurt liked Hugo, he really needed his girls right now, so he left the text without responding. He was the one who'd got his hopes up, anyway.
He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. Maybe he'd wake up and this would all just be some horrific dream.
A tear squeezed out from his closed eye and fell down his nose.
A dream. I wish.