Hey guys! Hope you didn't have to wait too long!
In this chapter, you can play "Spot The Harry Potter Reference"! :D
There's a bit in here where I quote some things from the series, but they're a bit altered, so sorry if you're a purist, but I hope you still like!
Be prepared for CHEESE and FLUFF :D
As always, I own nothing :D
Enjoy! Reviews are always very much appreciated :D xxx
Dear Diary,
I dreamed about him last night. There he was, stood still like a statue, facing away from me. I ran to him, but as I touched his arm…it was cold as snow, hard as a rock. It was a perfect representation of my beloved boy…but in frozen ice. At first I did not panic; it was only a sculpture of some sort…but as I walked around to face him…the eyes still moved. He looked at me, unable to move the rest of his face…but there was no mistaking the fear and begging in his eyes, pleading me. But I could do nothing.
I don't know how much longer I can take this.
For the second time in two days, there was a deafening shatter of smashing glass as a tray was dropped from Kurt's shocked hands, crashing to the floor and spilling liquid everywhere. But he barely noticed; his heart, filling quickly with forbidding dread, began to race unpleasantly as he ran, barely feeling the contact of the soles of his shiny black pointed shoes with the carpeted floor, towards the crumpled mess that now lay at the foot of the stairs. He ran as fast as he could, and when he got there, checked the face. He was right.
A huge wave of panic hit him, harder than any of the waves crashing against the side of the ship.
"Mr Anderson?" he asked timidly, voice quivering with fright. "Mr Anderson?"
There was no movement. He was obviously out cold. His beautiful face was perfectly motionless, his limbs at awkward angles, though nothing looked broken. The fear in Kurt's heart grew as he lay frozen on the floor, the man who had not left Kurt's mind, the face which had tortured him at night, haunted him by day. Dropping to his knees beside him, he quickly placed a hand on his chest to check for pulse-and immediately gasped, feeling as if an electric shock had just coursed through him…but he tried to ignore his own impossibly fast pulse as he tried to find the beating under the passenger's shirt…ah, there it was. Steady. Kurt breathed a sigh, with what might have been relief…it occurred to him he should have just checked his wrist…but there you go. At least he was alive. Although completely unconscious. The worry wasn't quite gone.
He looked down at the still, peaceful face-and lost all concentration. The smooth, warm skin, the long dark eyelashes, the almost black curly hair…without him telling it to, his hand drifted to the tanned cheek and stroked it gently, heart racing, feeling as if it were on fire…then he forced himself to snap back to his senses. He needed to get help.
Swiftly, he looked around. The hall was deserted.
"I'll be right back," he told the unconscious guy. Getting to his feet-he hesitated. He hated to leave him all alone. But what then? He had to find someone who knew what to do.
"I'm sorry," he told the Mr Anderson. Then, he turned on his heels and ran as fast as he could to find assistance.
…
"Honestly, Kurt, I have no idea why you came running to me. Seriously, I'm already in enough trouble as it is, what with my lateness, but now you come dashing into the engine room practically hyperventilating and whimpering about an accident. Was I really the best person to find? Couldn't you have found the ship's doctor, or something?"
"I'm sorry, I panicked," Kurt had broken down into tears, as he anxiously followed behind Finn. In his strong, muscled arms, was the still-out-cold, floppy body of Mr Anderson. After the initial shock and confusion, Finn had decided the best thing they could do was to take him back to his room on the ship. So now his curly head lolled weakly against Finn's chest, bumping slightly every step. Kurt scurried behind, worried out of his mind, tears staining his cheeks.
Despite the situation, every time Kurt looked at Mr Anderson…he was reminded of everything he could never have…these feeling were wasted. It hurt. He wished he hadn't run away so fast on the deck-it was only because he was scared. But now he knew he'd blown everything.
Kicking himself, Kurt sighed. There was nothing to blow. He had to keep reminding himself of that? In what world would this beautiful first-class man love someone like him?
"And then I find it's your Mr Anderson-" Finn was saying.
"He's not my Mr Anderson!" Kurt retorted, frustrated, tears spilling. And he never will be…
There was a pause as they reached the correct corridor of first-class cabins. It was lucky Finn knew the ship back to front. Finally, they reached the correct door.
"Okay," Finn's tone had softened. "Okay…we'll just leave him on the bed-"
"We can't just leave him!"
"Well, what do you propose we do?"
"I'll stay,"
The words came out of Kurt's mouth before he could prevent them. He actually put a hand over it. Stopping, Finn actually turned around, Mr Anderson's foot hitting the doorframe. But he was still motionless.
"What? Kurt, that's crazy-"
"What if he's hurt himself badly, or something?" Kurt reasoned.
Finn looked annoyed-but his eyes were sad. "Kurt…look. It would be inappropriate. And, frankly, I don't think you could stand to be alone with him. It wouldn't be any good for you…" He trailed off. "I'm just worried about your-your feelings here…" Kurt felt a pang-he knew his brother was right.
But he had to. What if Mr Anderson was concussed, or something?
"I'll manage," he said, in a small voice. "I should stay,"
Finn paused a moment, looking carefully at his brother. It was written all over his face what he thought.
But-he sighed. "Okay. On your own head, be it,"
Slowly coming back to life, Blaine gradually felt the feeling returning to his body and limbs. Ow. His head hurt awfully…had he fallen? He'd walked out of the lounge, and then…where was he? He was on something soft…a bed?…and there was…
There was a soft, cool hand-holding his. And another resting tenderly on his forehead.
Was he dreaming?
Blaine's eyes flew open, and the boy standing over him jumped back a mile, flushing pink. As the world came into focus…Blaine realised, with what was half shock and half delight that it was Kurt. His heart fluttered…
"K-Kurt?" he said, still groggy-which probably wasn't helped by his racing heart.
"Oh thank God!" The pale boy was almost passing out with relief. Blaine noticed tear tracks down his delicate cheeks. "Mr Anderson!"
Blaine didn't understand. What had happened? Looking up at the ceiling…he could see he was back in his room, lying on the large comfortable bed. But why was Kurt here?
"Is he awake?" A man in a dark suit with a small moustache came into view. After a second, Blaine recognised him as the ship's doctor. He peered at Blaine through spectacles. "How are you feeling, Mr Anderson?" he asked, as Kurt hovered anxiously in the background, looking at Blaine like he might explode, obviously wondering whether he should leave.
Blaine prayed he wouldn't.
"Urm…a little dizzy…" Though he wasn't sure whether that was due to his head hurting…or the fact that there was an angel in his room.
"Yes, that's to be expected, sir," the doctor said, checking him over carefully. "Some fall you took there…it was lucky young Kurt found you when he did,"
Blaine was shocked. His eyes fixed on Kurt's lovely, scared face. He couldn't believe it.
"Thank you," he managed to choke out.
"Oh no, that's-" Kurt squeaked. "that's quite okay, M-Mr Anderson,"
He seemed to get scared whenever he spoke to anyone. It was adorable, really. Blaine's heart ached with love for him.
"Your mother is very concerned. If you feel up to it, she'd like to see you?" the doctor was asking.
I bet, Blaine thought darkly. "N-not just now. Thank you. But…" He wondered if he dared ask. He looked at Kurt, his porcelain skin glowing even whiter in the pink evening sun. The pure innocence and beauty that so enthralled him, the sweetness of his high voice… "…I-I'd like Kurt to stay, if that's okay…?"
The doctor looked taken aback-but that was nothing compared to the look on Kurt's face.
"Urm…okay," The doctor frowned-but seemed okay with it. "I don't think they'll be any lasting damage. Be sure to send the boy to call me if there's anything wrong,"
He picked up his things, and, giving Kurt a suspicious look-left.
Kurt and Blaine were alone.
Blaine turned to the boy, who was looking frightened-but intrigued as to why he had been asked to stay. There was a silence as they just looked at each other. Blaine wondered if Kurt could possibly feel as he did.
"Y-you can sit down if you like?" Blaine offered. Kurt looked abashed.
"S-sit down?" His eyes were round with shock. "Sir?"
"Sit down, if you like," Blaine repeated, his heartstrings tugging. "Make yourself comfortable,"
Uncertainly, Kurt hesitated for a second-before nervously, but elegantly perching on the very edge of the wooden chair beside Blaine's bed. Careful not to touch the cushion on the seat, he folded one leg daintily over the other and placed his clasped hands on his lap. He looked uncomfortable-but tried not to show it. Obviously, he wasn't used to being asked to sit down by passengers-particularly first-class.
"Thank you for finding me," Blaine said. He didn't mean after the fall.
"Oh! that's quite alright sir," Kurt said quickly. He almost smiled.
"Thank you," he repeated.
And, without him giving it any instructions-once again, Blaine's hand reached out and took Kurt's, squeezing it.
It was as if the hand had a homing signal-it knew where it belonged.
Kurt stared down at their hands, his eyes widening, cheeks blushing a delicate pink-but he did not take it away.
Now or never.
Blaine knew.
He had to say something now, or he never would. If he backed out now, he could spend his whole life wishing he hadn't. Remembering what Louise had said, he took a deep breath. But how to say it? There he was, lying on a bed hold the man of his dreams' hand, and his mind was utterly blank. He was so nervous. More than he ever had been in his life.
But he had to say it.
"Urm…Kurt?" Blaine looked his companion straight in the eyes, glimpsing his personal heaven as he did. He reached out with the other hand, grasping Kurt's in both of his. He felt Kurt shudder slightly-but he looked right back at him.
"Look…"
Blaine couldn't find the words.
But there was Kurt, right beside him.
"Kurt…there is a moment, when you just think: "Oh, there you are. I've…I've been looking for you my whole life,"?"
Kurt blinked, looking confused-but he felt a sharp intake of breath from him. He carried on.
"Well…you were that moment for me, Kurt," He held the hand tighter in his, pulse racing, faster than it ever had on his life…yet somehow, he felt more and more natural. Like this was nothing but right.
Kurt was looking completely shocked.
"I know this is going to sound crazy…" Blaine apologised quickly. "But…hear me out. Please.
"You know on the deck…when you talked about flying all the way out to the horizon? I knew…I knew in that moment I'd fly anywhere with you. I know-I know this is all so fast. This whole thing has been a whirlwind. But…I've never been surer of anything in my life,"
Kurt was silent. He stared back at him, eyes stretched and shocked…but there was a glimmer of hope.
"I'm sorry…but…my heart…it's telling me to give you everything. And I want to. I care so much about you, Kurt, it's unreal. Hell, I know how mad I'm sounding…but that doesn't matter.
"You move me, Kurt.
"Nothing matters to me so much as you. You, and your happiness. And if I could make you happy…" He held Kurt's hand tighter. "My heart is yours. If you want it,"
And then-Blaine didn't even know what happened. But he leaned towards him.
Then-they were absorbed in the most beautiful, magical kiss.
It was like nothing Blaine had ever thought possible. Feeling this person's soft lips on his…he was soaring through the air, his heart had wings. The only real thing was his hand holding tightly to Kurt's. As the kiss deepened, Kurt reached up a hand and stroked Blaine's cheek, touching his hair. It was magic. Pure magic.
Neither ever wanted to let go.
When the kiss finally ended-Blaine didn't have a clue how long it lasted-they both looked shyly down-but smiling. Positively glowing with perfect happiness.
"Oh, Mr Anderson…" Kurt breathed.
"Blaine, Blaine," Blaine took his doll-like face in his hands, their foreheads resting against each other.
"Blaine…" he whispered, as if saying the name of a prince, a god, before Blaine kissed him again. It could have been minutes, hours, days. But Kurt and Blaine kissed, the world around them insignificant, no class boundaries, no nothing. Nothing but love. Kurt was no longer scared, Blaine no longer shy, and that was it. They kissed again and again, as if they'd never stop.
"Kurt Hummel…" There were so many words now. "Please tell me I'm not dreaming,"
"Maybe…but there's nothing wrong with dreaming," Kurt smiled, kissing him.
