Guys, I think my face is perpetually red, because you are all TOO SWEET! I can't take it! Thanks so much for everything (reviews, alerts, for waiting, etc)! Enjoy this chapter, my dears! Disclaimer: I do not own any of this.
"Hello? Kurt?" Paul pushed Kurt's bedroom door open. "Mercedes let me in on her way out…"
"Out, out, OUT!" A flustered Kurt shoved him out the door and forced it closed.
"Wha…?" Paul stared at the light wood of Kurt's closed door, puzzled. He could hear Kurt rustling around in his closet and was sure he heard an exasperated sigh and a quiet "no!" Paul slumped against the door and waited, pushing his shaggy brown hair out of his face. Knowing Kurt, it would be HOURS before he found the right outfit to wear. But really, this was just dinner with friends, and it's not like Paul cared about what Kurt wore...
Shrugging his shoulders, Paul wandered over to the keyboard in Kurt's living room and began to play some scales, something he often resulted to whenever he was waiting for Kurt. Which, as it so happened, he had been doing quite a lot lately, mostly due to the fact that Kurt was hanging out with this Blaine guy all the time. Paul was very curious, indeed, to meet the man that was hogging his boyfriend. Not that he was bitter...or the jealous type (usually), but Paul was not one to be crossed. By anybody.
Kurt heard Paul playing the piano and groaned. He fell face first on his bed, not caring that his hair would get messed up, his soft white robe slipping off his shoulders. Oh, what in the WORLD had possessed him to do this? GaGa, he must be crazy.
Even though he was a champion event planner, Kurt had managed to seriously screw this one up. Mercedes was busy tonight so she couldn't make it to dinner, and it was just going to be Kurt, Blaine, Ava, and Paul. Mistake number one, right there. Kurt had wanted this to be more of a friendly get together so he could, uh, have the possibility of spending some...alone-ish time with Blaine. But now it was a couple's thing, and though Paul was a nice guy, there would be no way that Kurt could escape the fact that tonight it would probably be more like dinner with Kurt&Paul and Ava&Blaine.
Mistake number two: he had gone shopping yesterday and for the first time in his life, the outfit that (albeit perfect for the occasion) looked wonderful yesterday was so, so WRONG today. Plus, Paul was already here, something Kurt had not been counting on, thus severely cutting down on his time to mentally prepare for Blaine's arrival.
Hmph. Paul. Kurt had met Paul at a gig; he was the band's piano player, and Paul had asked him out later that evening. It was funny, because Paul was a very go with the flow, spontaneous, I-can't-dress-myself-well-even-if-I-tried kind of guy that Kurt almost NEVER went for. But he was cute and sweet and musically inclined, and Kurt had been having a particularly shitty week, so he had said yes.
They had been together for about two and a half months now, but it wasn't until just recently that Kurt had realized that something was off in their relationship. It was just that...well...Paul had been very, very disinterested in meeting Kurt's friends. Both he and Mercedes had been offended that Paul wasn't eager to meet Kurt's best friend and roommate, even though Kurt spent an abnormal amount of time hanging around all of Paul's buddies. Also, there were some things where they were never on the same page. When Paul wanted to go out, Kurt wanted to stay in, and they rarely seemed to meet each other half way. Kurt used to just shrug it off, but it was getting a bit annoying now. Of course Paul wasn't perfect—neither was Kurt, for that matter-but even though they got along and had similar interests, they just always seemed to be moving at different paces in their lives.
Kurt's alarm beeped, signaling that he had only fifteen minutes until Blaine and Ava were supposed to arrive. SHIT! They had run out of chocolate when he was making dessert earlier this afternoon, so he had to rush to the shop across the street to buy more, which caused him to be late! Kurt cursed at his bedspread and sighed. And to top everything else off, Kurt could not get Blaine out of his head, which was in general driving him crazy. He was distracted the entire weekend, because every five minutes he seemed to drift off into daydreams that involved shirtless Blaine singing to him and kissing his neck…Gah, no! He was running out of time! Wearing a bathrobe to dinner was just NOT in the evening plans...
The dimming light outside cast a soft glow to the room as Kurt silently pulled on his not-quite-fabulous-enough outfit. Yesterday it looked great! Just today…with the fact that Blaine would be here any minute…well it wasn't good enough. God, what was Blaine doing to him? Kurt never had doubts like this before! Kurt tugged the fitted, military style navy blazer so it hung straight across his hips and made sure his tight, black pants were lint free. He tightened his bow tie and arranged…and rearranged…and rearranged his hair. Hmph. It would have to do.
Taking a deep breath, Kurt peeped out of the room to see Paul hunched over the key board, playing chopsticks. Paul was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans, a white t-shirt, and an unbuttoned plaid shirt over it. Damn it, Kurt had forgotten to plan Paul's outfit for him! Sighing, because it was like having a child he needed to dress, Kurt grabbed Paul's forearm (no sparks. No electricity. Just warm forearm) in exasperation and dragged him towards his bedroom. This used to be kind of fun, but now it was just old. Paul at least needed a sweater or something…
Blaine, at that very moment, was ruffling through his own closet, desperately trying to find something to wear. "It's hopeless!" he whined, staring at the clothes in front of him. Normally, Blaine was a rather dapper dresser, but he had never put much care into his outfits. Yes, he looked good, but that was all that had mattered.
Now, well, it was different. He wanted to look good for somebody (*cough*Kurt*cough*) so his clothes DID matter and the world was going to end because he had NOTHING TO WEAR. He had tried to plan this weekend (seriously, he did!) but every time his mind breached the subject of dinner at Kurt's, all he could think about was Kurt's breathtaking eyes and how they sparkled, as if millions of tiny diamonds were imbedded in their depths...
"Blaine?" Ava called from the bathroom, where she was touching up her makeup. "Do you want me to pick out a shirt for you?"
"No, I'm fine." Pick out a shirt for him? He could pick out his own damn shirt. And he would…as soon as he found the right one. Damn it.
Ava leaned in the doorway, appraising her husband's flushed appearance. "Are you sure? Because I think the green one would be perfect for dinner…"
"No," Blaine snapped, his eyes flashing.
Ava laughed, going over to stand by her husband. "What's up with you? You don't normally spend this much time worrying about your outfits…"
Blaine ignored her and turned to sift through his sweater drawer. He pulled out a black, v-neck cardigan. Hmm…this could work.
"…it's not like you are trying to impress anyone. It's just Kurt and his boyfriend. Who, by the way, I am so excited to meet!" Ava chirped, sitting on the bed.
Blaine rolled his eyes, that hot flash of undefinable emotion (again, it was jealousy) passing through him. "Kurt is very fashionable…" muttered Blaine, dumping his tie drawer onto his bed. Now which one to wear…?
Ava laughed again and pulled at a light blue tie. She held it up to Blaine's response-less face, tossing it back onto the bed at his rejection. "Yeah, honey, Kurt is gay, not the fashion police…"
God, won't she just shut up? Blaine huffed, and grabbing a thin, dark silver tie, went to change. He knew he was overreacting, and Ava was just trying to help, but damn it this was important to him, and she was treating it as a joke. Blaine buttoned up a white dress shirt and slipped the tie around his neck. As he went to tie it, Ava's hands tugged the cloth away from his and proceeded to make a perfect knot.
"You look good, sweetie," she said quietly, smoothing down Blaine's shirt. Something in her eyes was sad; there was a muted yearning for something...perhaps their past selves, who they once were. She squeezed Blaine's hand lightly and slipped out of the room. Blaine guiltily buttoned up his sweater, listening to Ava's retreating footsteps. Of course he was being too hard on her; how was she supposed to know that this meant so much to him? Hell, even he didn't know why, but this was a big deal; he was going to be in Kurt's house! At that thought, the butterflies reappeared in Blaine's stomach, forcing his attention back to Kurt and their upcoming dinner this evening.
Blaine cocked his head in the mirror and gave himself an onceover. Not bad…he hoped Kurt would approve. After glancing at the clock, Blaine grabbed a bottle of wine and followed Ava out the door. They silently walked hand in hand down the street towards Kurt's apartment, both trying to ignore the growing strain in their relationship. It was easier, that way, to ignore what was happening between them. But as Blaine was finding out, easier almost always wasn't better.
The clock chimed seven and everything was almost ready. The fruit and cheese plate was on the sideboard, and the dining table was set and covered with flickering candles. The salmon was in the oven, and the bête noir, Kurt's favorite flourless chocolate cake, was cooling on the kitchen counter. Soft classical music was playing in the living room, and a fairly presentable Paul was slouched on the couch, leafing through a magazine.
A knock on the door sent jitters running up Kurt's sides as he rushed to let Blaine (oh yeah, and Ava) in. Paul reluctantly got up from the couch and followed Kurt over to the door.
In a flurry of hugs and 'Hello, great to see yous,' Kurt greeted his guests and proceeded to introduce them to Paul. Lucky for Kurt, Paul was on his best, most charming behavior, and he quickly struck up a conversation with Ava about classical composers.
Blaine handed Kurt the bottle of wine with a small, secretive smile. "For you…"
Kurt blushed slightly (he really had no idea why) and accepted the bottle. "I told you not to bring anything…" he chastised, placing the bottle on the dining table.
Blaine only chuckled and poked Kurt's side, winking at him. "But I didn't listen, did I?"
Kurt shook his head and blushed deeper. Oh god, why did it feel like Blaine was flirting with him? Was Blaine flirting with him? Kurt's heart fluttered at Blaine's touch. His breath caught and he looked Blaine in the eye questioningly. What were they doing?
At that moment, Paul came over and slid his hand around Kurt's waist possessively. Grinning, he turned to face Blaine, completely oblivious to the look of annoyance that glanced across Kurt's features. Gawd, Paul didn't need to 'claim' him so obviously.
"So, Blaine, you're the one who has been trying to steal my boyfriend…" Paul joked, looking Blaine up and down. He didn't have anything against Blaine. Yet. Ava seemed very sweet, but there was just something about this Blaine guy that Paul already didn't like.
"Stop it!" hissed Kurt, struggling a bit Paul's hold. Why was he being such an asshole?
"Oh, don't be silly babe, I'm just teasing."
Blaine did everything he could not to glare at this guy, because Blaine was a gentleman. He smiled meekly at Paul. "Well, Kurt is an amazing guy, and he is one of my best friends. I mean, what's not to love?"
Paul nodded, a slight sneer upon his face. Out of the corner of his eye, Paul could see Kurt blushing as Blaine said love. Dumbfounded, Paul let go of Kurt's waist and stared, watching Kurt and Blaine talk with one another. Shit. Kurt liked Blaine. Well, maybe not liked him liked him, but Kurt was definitely attracted to Blaine.
Sensing an impending fiasco at Paul's silence, Kurt squeaked "Why don't we move into the living room and have some appetizers?" He ushered Paul and Blaine onto the living room couch and went to find Ava.
Paul glanced at Blaine and smiled. Fine. He would play nice for now. It's not like Blaine had any real chance with Kurt seeing as a. Paul and Kurt were together, b. Blaine was married, and c. There wasn't much indicating that Blaine was gay. No reason to be jealous then, right? "So, Blaine, what do you do for a living?"
Blaine scrutinized Paul's face, trying to figure out if this guy was scheming against him. "Well, my family is in publishing, so I write books. Mystery novels, actually."
Paul cocked his head to the side. "Wait, Blaine Anderson? The Blaine Anderson, of the Faceless Wanderer series?"
Blaine nodded, still wary of Paul's reaction. Was this a good thing or…?
"No kidding! I love your books! My sister bought me one for my birthday last year and I read the whole series within a week!" Paul beamed at Blaine, previous thoughts of dislike shoved into the back of his mind. He was here, at dinner, with his favorite author? What luck!
Blaine sighed with relief, glad that Paul's hostile side had retreated to its cave. Ava and Kurt joined their conversation for a bit, and it soon drifted from literature to music.
"Paul plays piano, you know," said Kurt, patting his boyfriend's leg warmly.
"Oh, do play for us!" exclaimed Ava. Her eyes sparkled; she loved it when people gave home performances.
"Oh, I don't know…I wouldn't want to bore you," said Paul, secretly wanting to show off his talents. If anything, being in the company of an award winning author and a professional singer made him want to prove that he too was good at something.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "He's just being modest." Turning to Paul, Kurt gave him a small shove towards the keyboard. "Play something for us, will you? I have to go check the salmon, but I'll be able to listen from the kitchen…"
"Oh, alright then." Paul got up and sat at the keyboard, Ava hovering over his shoulder eagerly. "Any requests…?"
As Paul began to play, Kurt slipped into the kitchen to check on their main course. He pulled on a pair of worn green oven mitts (they had belonged to his mother) and grabbed the tray of baked salmon out of the oven. He placed it on the counter, grabbed a paring knife, and proceeded to carefully slice the filets in half. As Kurt worked, his mind wandered back (three guesses…) to Blaine and his intoxicating presence. Every time Blaine touched him, Kurt was all jumpy and overly sensitive. It was driving him nuts!
"Need any help?" Blaine appeared in the kitchen doorway, shocking Kurt out of his reverie and causing Kurt to jerk.
"Blaine? Ah, shit! Ow!" Kurt's hand slipped, the paring knife slicing an inch long cut on his index finger. Kurt managed to step away from the food, preventing any blood from getting on their dinner, but fuck his finger HURT. At the sight of the blood, Kurt's face blanched, and he could feel himself getting slightly dizzy. God, he never was this queasy, but it looked like so much blood…
Startled, Blaine rushed over to Kurt's side and grabbed his hand. All he had wanted to do was help Kurt, and Oh shit! Kurt was turning white! Fuck, Kurt was in pain and Blaine felt as if something was ripping his chest in two, and he could barely breathe. His heart was pounding and he began to panic; oh, what to do? Without stopping to think, Blaine quickly lifted the injured finger and slipped it into his mouth, sucking at the blood to make it stop.
Kurt stopped breathing. The world, too, seemed to freeze, and Kurt felt as if his life had instantly become a three dimensional photograph. He gasped at the feeling of Blaine's mouth, hot and wet, enveloping his finger. The sensation of Blaine sucking at the bleeding cut, trying to make Kurt feel better, was beyond anything he could have imagined. It completely overshadowed the pain and the queasiness at the sight of blood; Kurt was totally, 100% focused on the fact that Blaine's tongue was running over his wounded finger, trying to 'heal it.'
Oh, fuck. What the hell am I doing? Blaine slowly let Kurt's finger fall from his mouth, his own eyes wide at the realization at what he had just done. God, what had he been thinking? Well…okay…maybe it wasn't that bad. Kurt was staring at him, eyes wide as saucers. His friend, someone who he deeply cared about, was hurt, and…uh…Blaine had…acted on instinct? Yeah, that was it! Blaine felt a pang in his heart, knowing he and Kurt had such a close connection that if Kurt suffered, Blaine suffered too. Although Blaine refused to acknowledge it, in his heart, he knew that he would take a bullet to protect Kurt. He would do anything for this man.
"It stops the bleeding…" whispered Blaine. What else was there to say?
Kurt leaned in close, salmon completely forgotten. He locked eyes with Blaine and nodded, trying desperately to remember how to breathe again. Lord, the things Blaine was doing to him…
Blaine was entranced by Kurt and those eyes and their faces drifted closer and closer and-
"Hey, watcha doin'?" Paul walked into the kitchen, causing Kurt and Blaine to spring apart. Blaine turned with a start and stepped away from Kurt.
"Kurt cut his finger and I was just going to get him a band-aid." Blaine blurted out before scurrying into the hall.
"Oh babe, are you okay?" Paul grabbed Kurt's finger to take a look. Now that most of the blood was gone, the cut didn't look nearly as bad as it did before.
"Yes, I'm fine; Blaine is just making a big deal out of nothing." Kurt turned back to the salmon as Paul went to find Blaine and the box of band-aids in their medicine cabinet. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes!" Inside, however, Kurt was confused. Had he and Blaine nearly ki—no. There had been that moment, yes, when the air disappeared and it was only Kurt and Blaine in the world and every nerve on his body had tingled as if on fire, even though they weren't touching one another. And, in an instant, everything had evaporated, and now Blaine was gone…and Kurt was confused. It's the price I have to pay, though Kurt, grabbing the serving platter full of salmon and placing it on the dining table. With his each and every thought completely centered on Blaine and the impossibility of loving him, Kurt called his guests to dinner. It was the only thing he could do.
"Kurt…I have no words. You have rendered me speechless. Again."
"Thanks! The award-winning author with an immense vocabulary is caught off guard!" Kurt beamed at Blaine, enjoying the last bite of his own piece of cake.
Paul nodded, smiling at Kurt. "Babe, it was fantastic! The salmon AND the dessert! I don't know how you do it…"
Kurt winked at his boyfriend. "I guess I'm just that fabulous…"
Ava laughed, finishing offer her cake as well. "What was it called again?"
"La bête noir; it literally means 'the black beast' in French," replied Kurt, stretching a little in his chair. His feet bumped against Blaine, who was sitting across the table, causing Kurt to blush.
"I didn't know you were that into French," Blaine exclaimed, the surprise evident in his voice. Damn, the things that he didn't know about Kurt… "I studied it in high school but I never seemed to get the hang of it."
"Kurt loves all things French!" Paul added, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. "He loves singing songs in French too, don't you Kurt?"
"Bien sur!" Kurt smirked, not realizing what Paul was implying.
"…So…Kurt? Aren't you going to sing?" asked Ava expectantly. Yay! Two performances in one night? Jackpot!
Kurt gasped, finally making the connection between Paul and Ava's comments. "Oh, no, I'm not singing for you guys." Specifically, not for Blaine. Kurt knew, without a doubt, that his emotions would be clear as day if he had to sing with Blaine in the room.
"Kurt, babe, won't you sing for me?"
Kurt shook his head violently, crossing his arms in defiance.
"Aw, Kurt, pretty please?" Ava begged, using her puppy dog eyes.
"Nope."
"Yes, Kurt, we would love to hear you sing. Please? Just one song." Blaine began to pout, because he was absolutely obsessed with the beauty of Kurt's singing voice. With the pout, Kurt's resolve completely dissolved, and he gave in.
"Fine," he muttered, going over to find the music he needed. "Just one song." And shit, Kurt thought, if I am going to do this at all, I damn well will do it right.
Paul, Blaine, and Ava followed Kurt into the livingroom and settled themselves onto the couch. Kurt lowered himself by the piano and began to play.
After a moment, he took a breath and began to sing...
Alors tu vois, comme tout se mêle (So you see as everything gets mixed up)
Et du coeur a tes lèvres, je deviens un casse-tête (From your heart to your lips, I become a headache)
Ton rire me crie, de te lâcher (Your laugh defies me to let you go)
Avant de perdre prise, et d'abandonner (Before losing hold and abandoning)
Car je ne t'en demanderai jamais autant (Because I would never ask you for that much)
Déjà que tu me traites, comme un grand enfant (You already treat me like a big child)
Et nous n'avons plus rien, à risquer (And we have nothing left to lose)
À part nos vies qu'on laisse de côté (Except our lives, which we have set aside)
Kurt looked out the window, watching the stars twinkle playfully in the sky. What, exactly, had he gotten himself into?
Et il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort (And he still loves me, and me I love you a little more)
Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort (But he still loves me, and me I love you a little more)
With that line, Kurt locked eyes with Blaine, and when glasz met hazel, everything else evaporated away. It felt as if they were the only beings in existence, and Kurt was singing directly to Blane, with his heart and soul. And Kurt's life, finally, FINALLY made sense.
C'en est assez de ces dédoublements (That's enough of this splitting in halves)
C'est plus dure à faire, qu'autrement (It's harder to do, otherwise)
Car sans rire c'est plus facile de rêver (Because without laughter it's easier to dream)
À ce qu'on ne pourra, jamais plus toucher (Of what we can never again touch)
Et on se prend la main, comme des enfants (We take each others hands, like children)
Le bonheur aux lèvres, un peu naïvement (The happiness on our lips, a bit naively)
Et on marche ensemble, d'un pas décidé (And we walk together with a determined step)
Alors que nos têtes nous crient de tout arrêter (While our heads yell at us to stop everything)
Il m'aime encore, et toi tu m'aimes un peu plus fort (He still loves me, and you love me a little more)
Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort (But he still loves me, and me I love you a little more)
Et malgré ça, il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort (And despite this, he still loves me, and me I love you a little more)
Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort (But he still loves me, and me I love you a little more)
Paul's eyes swiveled back and forth between Blaine and Kurt, and his face turned a bit green. Blaine was sitting there, looking at Kurt as if he was an angel from heaven. And at that moment, everything clicked, and Paul realized that regardless of the fact that Blaine was his favorite author, shit was going to go down.
Encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort (Again, me I love you a little more)
Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime pas plus fort (But he still loves me, and me I love you a little more)
Malgré ça il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un plus fort (Despite this, he still loves me, and me I love you a little more)
Mais il m'aime encore, et moi je t'aime un peu plus fort (But he still loves me, and me I love you a little more)
The last line rang out, and Kurt was silent.
Blaine could only stare; he felt like his insides were melting and he didn't know why. Kurt had sung to him, and it was beautiful and breathtaking. There was this unidentifiable message that Kurt was trying to scream to him, Blaine just knew it. But Blaine's French was so shitty; he didn't understand a word that Kurt had sung, even though it took his breath away all the same.
Paul, on the other hand, could understand French much better than Blaine could. Much better. So he understood that Kurt was singing to Blaine, not to him. And Paul understood that yes, Kurt completely exposed himself when he sang, and this time, he was singing for Paul. Just not in the way he wished. Fuck. Who was he trying to fool? "Blaine, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a second?" Paul pointedly glanced at the kitchen door and made his way over, not bother to look back to see if Blaine was following him. Paul almost ran to the kitchen, not wanting to leave himself more time to break down his façade of calm. Damn it, this conversation needed to happen NOW.
Bewildered, Blaine got up slowly and followed Kurt's boyfriend into the kitchen.
"Kurt, that was wonderful!" Ava got up from the table and went to stand by her friend, momentarily distracting him from Blaine and Paul's disappearance. Their conversation turned to one relatively harmless in nature, very much unlike the conversation that was going on in the kitchen…
Paul whipped around to sneer at Blaine, his voice strained. "You like him, don't you?"
Blaine was puzzled. "Well, of course. Kurt and I are good friends."
"…that's not what I mean."
"What? I'm not g-gay, man...I'm married!"
"That doesn't mean anything."
"…"
"You'll never have him." Paul glared at Blaine.
"What?" What the hell was this guy on?
"You're in love with Kurt…" Paul stared at Blaine, his face dead serious.
"Wha-what? No? No. I'm not."
Paul only smirked, his eyes swimming with a combination of mirth and hatred. "Don't lie."
Blaine opened his mouth, but no words came out. What? In love? With Kurt? No…why would anyone say that…? Blaine spluttered, his face turning white. "Kurt," Blaine yelled, his voice cracking. "We gotta-We gotta go. There's something…fuck, we just have to leave. C'mon Ava." Blaine ran into the living room and tugged his bewildered wife out of the apartment, his mind numb. He needed to get out of here...he just...he couldn't even THINK!
"Blaine? Paul? Where did Blaine go? What did you say to him?" A stunned Kurt rushed into the kitchen, watching the door bang shut as Blaine and Ava disappeared.
"Nothing…he just left. But Kurt, that was some major shit you pulled in there."
Kurt glared at Paul, pissed that Blaine and Ava had left without saying goodbye. He KNEW it had something to do with what Paul had said to Blaine…"And what shit exactly, are you referring to?" Kurt's eyes narrowed into slits. Bitch, don't cross me.
Paul only glared back. God, he was fuming. "The song, damn it! The song Kurt! I'm not an idiot, you know. Do you think I didn't realize…? I mean, you brought him here and fucking PARADED him around in front of me!"
"I don't have a clue as to what you are talking about." Yeah, right, playing dumb is not going to work with this guy, Kurt. "Please enlighten me, Paul. Tell me what I should know." Kurt took a step closer to Paul, staring at him straight on.
Paul couldn't believe his ears. "No, fuck this. I'm not going to put up with any more of this bull shit. I'm out of here Kurt. We are over!" He stalked towards the door.
"FINE! You were a crappy boy friend anyway!" Kurt was seething. Blaine was gone and he didn't know why and Kurt was stuck here dealing with Paul and this screwed up mess and all he wanted was to take back everything; the dinner, the song, everything because no matter what this was, it was his fault!
"He's married Kurt. It's never going to work out."
Kurt swore under his breath. "You don't know anything." Why, oh why was this happening?
Paul's voice was a dead whisper, and Kurt barely heard the words that came out of his mouth. "You never fooled me, you know. You're not as good at hiding as you think."
And then Paul was gone and Kurt slammed the door behind him, twisting the lock violently. Shit shit SHIT this wasn't supposed to happen! Kurt slumped against the wall and groaned.
Kurt had done it. He had completely fucked up this time; he sang a song professing his love to Blaine, and Blaine left. Damn it! Kurt knew one thing for sure: he had to figure out what Paul said to Blaine...
After a few moments, Kurt had cooled down a bit, and he was able to think rationally. Okay. Tomorrow. Yes, I'll go see him tomorrow…when Ava's away at that conference she was talking about at dinner. Then we can…work this all out and everything will be back to normal.
Kurt sighed, and after looking around at the mess, groaned and trudged into his bedroom. He ignored everything- no cleaning, no straightening, no changing of clothes (okay, he would curse at himself for that in the morning), no moisturizing (okay, he would wake up early to make up for THAT); just sleep. He couldn't do anything until tomorrow's confrontation, and Kurt knew from experience that worrying about it would just make everything worse.
So Kurt slept, because again, it was the only thing that he could do.
Comme Des Enfants by Coeur de Pirate http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=PaUI6Tvd1sA
I absolutely love this song; it was in part inspiration for this entire story! The English translation of the lyrics is in parentheses (I got them online so they are *mostly* correct). S'il vous plait, leave a review if you want! I love all feedback, comments, and more. But, I love you guys all, just the same! Thanks :-)