For a general idea of the collar Blaine buys Kurt, go here:
.com[slash]
Add in the parts in parenthesis. I'm picturing the solid black one without the ruffle-y detail half way down the page. If you can't get to it, Google 'fabric collar'. It's the 14th shown under 'images'.
. . . . . . .
I was as wrong as I could be, to let you get away from me
I'll regret that move for as long as I'm living
But now that I've come to see the light
All I wanna do is make things right
So just say the word and tell me that I'm forgiven
You and me, we're gonna be better than we were before
I loved you then but now I intend
To open up and love you even more, this time you can be sure
I'm never gonna let you go, I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever,
Gonna try and make up for the times I hurt you so.
Gonna hold your body close to mine, from this day on we're gonna be together
Oh I swear this time, I'm never gonna let you go.
Looking back now it seems so clear, I had it all when you were here,
Oh you gave it all and I took it for granted
But if there's some feeling left in you, some flicker of love that still shines through
Let's talk it out, let's talk about second chances
Wait and see, it's gonna be sweeter than it was before
I gave some then but now I intend to dedicate myself to giving more
This time you can be sure,
I'm never gonna let you go, I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever
Oh I swear this time, I'm never gonna let you go…
Blaine sang, his soul shouting out the words as if it knew Blaine was working hard to make things better for his soul mate. This evening was going to be perfect. He was going to order in the lasagna and cheesecake that Kurt loved from their favorite Italian restaurant and give him the gift he'd been planning for some time. He would do anything to breech the distance between them.
Last night had been the catalyst for their reunion. The touch of Kurt's soft lips against his, the delicious scent of his arousal as Blaine pleasured him. Utter perfection. He'd been missing Kurt so badly, missed the intimacy they shared, not just in the bedroom. But that was a good place to start. He was sure that Kurt as well as he had mourned the loss of physical intimacy. That and they were both teenage boys with healthy sex drives. He hadn't planned to seduce Kurt, he'd only hoped for a kiss. After tasting those lips that haunted his dreams, however, he'd had to do something and pleasing him was more than he could have hoped for.
As Blaine drove through town toward the jeweler, he rubbed his Mark. It had been burning like hell since the night he'd hurt Kurt. He hadn't felt it until he'd sobered up, but he was sure it started as soon as he'd raised his hand to his submissive. Blaine knew, as every Dom knew, that hurting your submissive would cause physical and emotional pain. It was the most unforgiveable and shameful act a Dom could commit against his submissive. It only made sense that he would suffer permanently for what he'd done. His Mark continued to feel like fire under his skin, an unending pain that he welcomed as penance for his act. Today it seemed sharper, more invasive than it had been for some reason. He would never wish for it to be gone, however. It served as his reminder of hurting Kurt physically, mentally, spiritually as well as a warning to never drink or raise a hand in anger ever again. As if the unending pain, shame, and guilt weren't bad enough his grandfather had threatened to not only take a belt to him but to give away his inheritance if he took so much as a sip of alcohol ever again.
Pulling his sleeve back to see if it would ease the burn, he made a pact with himself that he would never tell Kurt about the pain. It would serve no purpose than to possibly make Kurt feel guilt and Blaine wouldn't allow that. He'd also kept the pain out of his emotions as best he could to prevent his soul mate from sensing it. That, of course, was based on the hope of Kurt sharing his emotions again, which was something he didn't intend to force.
God, he missed feeling Kurt through their bond. There were a lot of things he missed about his precious soul mate. He missed his smiles and the grins that showed his teeth if he laughed hard enough. The joy that always seemed to emanate from him. His exquisite glasz eyes glowing from the well of emotions deep within his heart. Blaine had gotten lost in those eyes so many times, in love, sorrow, anger and lust. No matter what he felt, it always shone through those blue green eyes.
Blaine missed his generosity. In everything he did, Kurt gave of himself. He always made sure Blaine had coffee in the morning. They made breakfast separately, but that little act filled him with love on a daily basis. He'd tried to tell Kurt it was an act of submission, but it wasn't. It was love, plain and simple. Blaine saw how Kurt helped his classmates, studying and lending his notes when needed. Blaine had gotten many a comment from Doms telling him how lucky he was. At the time he'd agreed with them. Now, however, he could see that he'd taken that praise and made it his own, as if he were the reason Kurt was the way he was. If anything, Kurt was making him a better person. Not that he was an example of that anymore.
He missed laying with him at night. He would lay his head on Blaine's chest so trustingly, knowing Blaine would protect his physical body as well as his mind from any nightmares that may interrupt his slumber. Lovemaking, the gift of Kurt's body, was beautiful, exquisite and priceless. No matter what they did – if Blaine wanted to slip a blindfold on, tie his hands with scarves and spend hours teasing and exploring his glorious body, making his porcelain skin pink with pleasure – Kurt was always willing to try it. Kurt's sensual cries would fill the air like music as their bodies moved together. Kurt was a generous lover and as time passed, he became more confident in his body and his innate ability to be sexy. He'd even danced for Blaine a couple of times, putting on music and slowly stripping away his layers like a gift for Blaine's eyes. Blaine would melt, watch the undulating hips and the thrusting motion of his ass. There was nothing more sensual than Kurt in motion. Graceful, limber, his body lean and lithe. Blaine could spend hours watching him.
To be honest, he also missed his submissive. Blaine had finally learned, before he fucked up, that Kurt's submission would naturally come out on its own. Kurt would kneel next to Blaine and rest his head on Blaine's knee during a movie. He'd once allowed Blaine to show him a different, more efficient way of studying. Kurt followed his directions and thanked him for it, saying it would save him a lot of time. Blaine had beamed like an idiot, pleased he was helping his sub, his Dom side ecstatic to have made his sub's life just a bit easier. Kurt was open to many such ideas, allowing Blaine to gently guide him. Blaine had shared his many successes with Wes and Nick who applauded him on finally becoming a natural Dom. Wes told him to keep it up and not to ever tell Kurt that he was being subtly Dominated, that it would only close him up like a clam. What they were experiencing wasn't Blaine's prowess at being a Dom or Kurt proving he was a good submissive. It was simply the natural give and take, the innate complement they were born to create together.
After abusing Kurt, Nick and Jeff had cut off their friendship with him. Wes had too until he'd allowed Blaine to explain himself, that he wasn't trying to pawn off the blame onto Kurt, he knew it was his own doing. Blaine told him all the ways he was trying to improve himself to better care for Kurt. He was searching for a local anger management class to help with his temper and he had given up drinking permanently. Wes had given it thought and had concluded that Blaine was truly remorseful and would need a friend to see him through his journey to become a better soul mate to Kurt. He'd warned Blaine that he would be right behind Mr. Hummel if he fucked up again. Blaine was grateful and wasn't ashamed of the fact that he'd since cried in Wes's arms many a time. Even if he didn't deserve such support.
Leading up to that fateful night, their only problem had been the college argument. It had been awful, but he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about the Dom order as he still fully believed that the move would be good for both of them. The order had made life easier and Kurt had responded beautifully. He still was, Blaine thought guiltily, thinking of Kurt packing while he was still in so much pain. Even though Blaine had beaten him (a word that continued to make him ill), Kurt was still being a good sub. He knew Kurt hated being called a good boy, but Blaine couldn't seem to help it. It was like his Dom side was going to leap out of his chest if he didn't praise his sub like that. It felt as if his soul couldn't or wouldn't accept simply thanking Kurt. Good boy, perfect boy, his beautiful boy – it was stamped inside him, no matter how many times Blaine tried to push it down. Even after Kurt's look of utter disgust and distaste, it still wouldn't go away. Seeing Kurt packing despite his pain level warmed his soul and made him long to give him the praise he deserved.
He would always feel ashamed and sick about all he had done, especially upon seeing the welts and bruises, the proof of his abuse. He knew he'd fucked up beyond all repair when he'd had the chance to read the letter again when he was sober. He'd realized Kurt was being victimized and stalked by that scumbag. There was even more guilt about the whole situation because it served as a reminder of his own failures. If Blaine hadn't been drunk that night and threatened to make Kurt kiss him, he wouldn't have driven Kurt out of his home. Subsequently, he wouldn't have needed strength and he wouldn't have met Sebastian. The night of the letter, Blaine had made everything worse by victimizing Kurt further. He was glad Burt had later kicked his ass. He had welcomed the pain and knew it was the least of what he deserved.
Seeing Kurt's beat up and bruised body had caused him to be literally sick. Blaine hadn't even been man enough to face what he was responsible for. His beloved soul mate had been standing there, black and blue by his own hand and he was off puking, the shame threatening to choke him. That small act, being sick, had made his Mark burn even more. He assumed it was because once again he had turned his back on Kurt's needs. Kurt had needed comfort after originally reading the letter and he'd needed support while straining his pain-filled body to put his own pajamas on.
The collar, he hoped, was a gesture meant to bring them closer. Not just a gift to Kurt, but a statement of Blaine's affection and devotion as his Dom. He'd done extensive research on how to fix a bond after abuse. He shuddered at the word abuse, still horrified to realize he'd done that to Kurt, his beloved. He had made himself read all the preliminary articles on how disgusting and abhorrent he was for even lifting a finger to his sub. More than one article, written by leading scientists as well as 'Dom and sub Relations' experts, said that a collar, bought and presented with love, could help repair foundation problems in the relationship. It wouldn't solve everything, but perhaps enough to open the door to reconciliation. For a submissive, wearing a collar in love could calm them and bring a strong sense of security. If presented as a power play, the collar could bring out the opposite reaction, hostility, suspicion and distrust. It would force the sub to obey against his will, similar to a Dom order.
A friend had seen Blaine looking for collars and lent him a catalog to peruse. The company, he'd discovered, had a store in Dayton and offered the largest selection of collars in Ohio. Being a more conservative state, there was high demand among the older citizens of the state as well as many of the southern states.
The collar Blaine found was perfect for Kurt and he was beyond thrilled. It was dove gray and consisted of two silk triangles like a shirt collar that connected in the center with a jewel of the buyer's choice. The jewel was meant to rest at the hollow of the throat. The silk triangles merged into two strands of thin silver chains on the sides that linked in the back with a simple hook. The underside of the collar that lay against the subs neck was made up of a thin strip of soft leather which could be embroidered with words of the Doms choosing. Blaine knew Kurt would love the collar, especially because he knew Kurt would be able to tie his favorite scarfs above it and it wouldn't clash. It would also bring out the striking colors of his eyes. The skinny silver chains reminded him of Kurt's many broaches that he loved to dangle from his favorite waistcoats.
Finally arriving, an assistant led Blaine to the back where he was presented with the collar. It was more gorgeous than the picture he'd seen in the catalog. The triangles in the front were connected by a large sapphire that sparkled in the light. Turning it to look at the underside, he grinned at the words stitched into it. Blaine & Kurt: Nothing's gonna stop us, based off the song they'd sung at prom.
After paying a sum much higher than Blaine had ever spent, he was happily on his way home. Looking at the black velvet box next to him, he couldn't stop grinning. As he drove, he called in their dinner to the restaurant, wanting to have it arrive soon after he got home. He knew it would be too much to ask for, but he couldn't help but hope they had a repeat of last night's intimacy. Or more, he wouldn't complain either way. He chuckled. Hell, he'd be happy with hand-holding or snuggling at this point. Anything to be close to his beloved.
He was nearing Westerville and thinking of a song to serenade Kurt with, when a searing pain ripped through his Mark. He screamed at the intense agony, pulling off at his exit, trying to keep the car straight. Steering off to the side of the road, he yanked up his sleeve up and gasped in shock, his vision going black for a moment. His beautiful Mark, his connection to Kurt, was fractured. His skeleton key had a deep crack all the way through the middle, splitting it into two pieces.
"Kurt!" he screamed.
Slamming the car back into gear, he sped home, petrified that Kurt was hurt. He didn't allow himself to think of what possibly could have happened to Kurt that would cause the jagged divide in his Mark. Again and again for the rest of the drive, he called Kurt, but the phone went straight to voicemail. He parked quickly, breathing a bit easier when he saw the Navigator and Jeff's car in the lot. Kurt must be home from getting coffee as Blaine had asked him to do. The unbearable pain in his Mark was easing but he still sprinted to their apartment. He started calling Kurt's name as soon as he opened the door. There was no answer so he ran to the bedroom, then the bathroom to no avail. Kurt wasn't there. He dashed back out to Nick and Jeff's apartment.
Jeff answered, gasping at the panic on Blaine's face.
"Is Kurt here?" Blaine asked, out of breath.
"No, why?" Jeff responded, suddenly worried. "Is everything okay?"
"I need to see if he's alright, but he's not home," Blaine said, going pale. "Where is he? You've got to know!"
"No," Jeff insisted. "I don't know."
"You were with him last," Blaine accused. "Where is he?" He demanded, his voice changed into the deeper timber of the Dom order.
Jeff's eyes lowered from the force of the order. "He was going to your dorm the last time I saw him."
Nick burst out the door, shoving Jeff behind him. "Jeff, go to our room," he said, trying to soften his furious tone as he glared at Blaine. Jeff nodded meekly and hurried to their room.
Nick began shoving Blaine away from the door until he hit the opposite wall. He pulled back his fist and punched Blaine in the jaw. "You bastard! Don't you ever give an order to my soul mate. Never! Do you understand me?" He accentuated the questioned with a hard punch to Blaine's stomach. "Do you? You've crossed the last line, Blaine. Stay away from me and the fuck away from Jeff! If you ever talk to him or order him about, I will make sure you never walk again," Nick growled fiercely in Blaine's face.
Tears streamed down Blaine's face at losing his friends and his fear for Kurt. "I need to find my soul mate," he begged.
"He's not here," Nick said, returning to his dorm and slamming the door shut.
Blaine returned to his dorm and started calling Kurt's friends and old classmates, as well as trying Kurt's phone between each call. Kurt never picked up. Nobody else had seen him since graduation. One guy said he thought he'd seen Kurt at a coffee shop but he wasn't sure. Blaine thanked him and hung up before calling Burt. Kurt's dad told him he hadn't seen him since the party after graduation. He said he'd call around to Kurt's McKinley friends and get back to him, not sounding too concerned. He also mentioned he'd found a buyer for the Navigator and that he'd be by in the next day or so to pick it up. Before ending the call, he told Blaine not to worry, Kurt had probably found a sale and gone off shopping. Blaine didn't think so, but agreed to call Burt if he heard anything.
Blaine paced the apartment for what seemed like hours, unable to think clearly, worry eating away at him. He thought about driving around to their favorite places, but couldn't stand the thought of missing Kurt if he came home while Blaine was gone. The doorbell rang and he jumped, his heart racing. He hurried to the door only to see it was the dinner he'd ordered being delivered. As he went to close the door, it got caught on the welcome mat. He saw a sparkle of silver as he moved it out of the way with his foot. Putting the bag down, he pulled up the mat and saw a house key. He looked at it curiously, he was sure they didn't have a spare key.
He took the bag of food into the kitchen to put in the fridge until Kurt got home. Breathing deeply to try and calm himself, he took the velvet box containing the collar to their bedroom. Going into the closet, he took the box to the back to make sure it was hidden from Kurt's curious eyes. There was a flash of dull red as he moved his clothes aside. Looking closer in the dark, he realized what he saw was Kurt's bright red laptop. Frowning, he grabbed it and something slid off the top. Kurt's phone lay at his feet. Cold fear gripped his stomach.
Blaine turned slowly in the closet. His eyes widened when he realized there were no clothes on Kurt's side of the closet. Desperate to prove his fears wrong, he looked around their bedroom, taking in the small details. He saw that Kurt's alarm clock and the framed picture of his mother and father on their wedding day were gone. That picture was never moved, it was one of Kurt's most prized possessions.
"No, no, no," Blaine began chanting, his eyes burning with tears as he hurried out of the room. He approached the multiple stacks of moving boxes in the living room and read the contents written on the sides in Kurt's elegant script. Dishes, books, knickknacks, Blaine's shoes, Blaine's music, Blaine's pics. Not one box specified Kurt's belongings. His heart pounded, his breathing coming faster, the edges of his vision went gray. He looked around the apartment, slowly spinning, a feeling a sense of déjà vu filling him. It was too close to the time when Kurt had left home when Blaine had sorely abused the use of Dom orders. Like before, there was no proof that Kurt still lived there or ever had to begin with. There was no proof because Kurt had been packing. Blaine was confused, his exhausted brain unwilling to admit what he was seeing. He had just seen Kurt a few hours ago, he told himself. This couldn't have happened that fast. It couldn't be happening at all.
He realized he was still chanting. "No, no, no," as he pleaded, begging the universe to not make him admit what he was seeing. "Kurt!" he screamed, uncaring who heard him. He looked down at his Mark and realized his nightmare had come true. Kurt was gone, and if he what he feared most in the world was right, so was their bond.
Blaine had his phone out and the other line was ringing before he realized he'd called his Grandfather.
"Hello, Blaine Devon," his grandfather said.
"Grandpa, he's gone!" Blaine cried, his heart breaking in his chest.
"What? Who's gone?" Grandpa asked, instantly alert.
"Kurt! Kurt's gone. All of his stuff, his moving boxes, it's all gone! His cellphone and computer are here, his house key was under the mat. He's gone! Grandpa, help me!" Blaine sobbed, falling to the floor.
"What the hell?" Grandpa roared. "Where the hell did he go?" He could hear his grandmother talking in the background, trying to figure out what was going on.
"I don't know," Blaine cried. "If I had to guess, I'd say New York. But how did he do it?"
"God damn it. That damn sub of yours. He shouldn't have been able to leave, he was under orders to go to California with you, wasn't he?" Grandpa demanded.
"Yeah," Blaine said, thinking about the order. His stomach twisted when he figured it out. "Oh god, Grandpa, it's my fault. I ordered him to not fight me about the move. I didn't order him to go to California with me. I told him not to fight with me about it. And he didn't. He hasn't once said anything about the move, he just packed quietly. I thought he was just following my edict, but all along he was probably preparing to leave me. Jesus Christ, what the hell do I do, Grandpa?" Panic ate at him, his hands shaking so hard he had to put the call on speaker phone and lay it on the counter.
"Fuck!" Grandpa shouted.
Blaine heard his grandfather in the background telling his grandmother to call and put a stop payment on the check they had given to Kurt.
"Damn it, Blaine. That boy is a coward. He needed to stay and work through your problems. He is supposed to carry through with your wishes, not run away. Not putting his needs before yours. I thought he was a better man then this," Grandpa raged. There was silence on the other end and then his grandfather began cursing loud and long.
"Grandpa? Grandpa, what is it?" Blaine asked, starting to feel like he was going to throw up.
"That boy already deposited the check. It's too late to cancel it. Fifty freaking thousand dollars gone just like that, all to fund a runaway sub," he barked.
"Fifty thousand? I thought you said you were going to give him twenty five?" Blaine asked, shocked at how much money Kurt now had to pay his way in New York, which is where he now knew for certain Kurt had run off to.
"We were trying to make up for the fact that you beat the shit out of him," Grandpa told him. "Now I regret it. Maybe he needed to have his ass beat."
"Grandpa! Don't say that! No matter how much Kurt is in the wrong, he didn't deserve, and hasn't ever deserved, to be beaten," Blaine said, angry at his grandfather for the insults he was throwing at his soul mate. "I gotta go, I need to figure out how to find Kurt."
"Blaine Devon, I know a private investigator. I can get him on this tomorrow morning," Grandpa told him sternly. "Regardless of the laws in New York, we'll find a way to get him back to you."
"I don't know, Grandpa. Maybe he'll realize he needs me and come home on his own. But with my Mark being broken, I don't know what he needs or doesn't need from me," Blaine said miserably.
"Your Mark being what?" Grandpa said, his voice suddenly quiet.
"I felt this horribly sharp pain earlier. My Mark has a crack clear through it, the key is broken in two," Blaine told him, beginning to feel numb.
Grandpa didn't say anything and Blaine thought he might have hung up. "Grandpa?"
"Oh, son," Grandpa said sadly. "I'm so sorry, Blaine Devon. If your Mark is broken like that, it… it…," Grandpa swallowed loudly. "It means your emotional bond is broken. For good."
"Oh god. I don't think I can deal with this," Blaine mumbled, his worst fear coming true. He held his stomach as it roiled in protest. "What about the strength bond, is it still intact? Will he get sick?" No matter how much his heart was being destroyed, he didn't want Kurt to be all the way in New York and suffering alone. There was no way he wanted Kurt to have to depend on strangers to stay strong.
"No. From what I've read the strength bond is solidified once the soul mates have been Claimed. It's a chemical reaction in the brain, not a soul-based emotional bond. You'll always trade strength with one another, though he could still Join with someone else just to feel close or, or, I'm sorry, but to be intimate. I'm so sorry, Blaine Devon. The rest of your bond, emotionally and as soul mates is broken," Grandpa said, ending in a whisper as if the words hurt him to say.
"No," Blaine said, beginning to sob. "No, this can't be happening!" It felt like living the most terrifying nightmare and being unable to wake up. Suddenly, he had to know the truth. "The Mark. Was it because Kurt left, or was it because of me?"
The line was silent.
"Oh, god, it's because of what I did, isn't it? I caused this," Blaine cried, his whole body shuddering with the sudden, intense grief. "This is what they mean, huh? When they say that Doms suffer for hurting their subs. It wasn't just my Mark hurting. It was all leading to this, wasn't it? Leading to him being able to leave with no consequences," Blaine sobbed.
"I think so. Blaine Devon, come over here. Or let me come to you. You shouldn't be alone," Grandpa said gently.
"No, Grandpa. I want to be alone. I guess I should get used to it," Blaine said, his tears subsiding as numbness set in. He was suddenly so exhausted he wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Though he had no idea how he was going to fall asleep in the first place. "I'll start looking for him tomorrow."
"Blaine Devon, my son, it might be best to just let him go," Grandpa told him lovingly. He could hear his grandmother sobbing softly in the background.
"I can't let him go," Blaine stated evenly.
"I don't think you have a choice," he responded, his tone sympathetic but firm.
Blaine hung up. He wouldn't give up hope. He couldn't. He went into the bedroom and buried his head into the pile of decorative pillows Kurt loved so much. He began screaming, every ounce of him pouring out in a muffled sound. Over and over he screamed and sobbed until the sounds were silent, his throat burning from the effort. He sat up abruptly, eyes swollen and nose running, needing to find a piece of Kurt somewhere. Tossing the throw pillows aside, he reached for Kurt's pillow only to find it gone. He went to search the closet, then the dresser, with no luck. Seeing his Dalton hoodie hanging on a chair, he pulled it on. Kurt had loved the worn sweatshirt, spending hours snuggled in it. Blaine sniffed it, hoping there was a lingering scent of his soul mate, only to be disappointed when it just smelled like laundry soap.
Returning to the bed, he pulled out his phone. There, as his wallpaper, was his beautiful Kurt. He was smiling, a light blush coloring his pale face. Blaine had been tickling him that day and thought he'd looked positively gorgeous, so he'd snapped the picture. Opening his photo album, he scrolled through picture after picture. So many memories. Kurt and Jeff, Kurt and Burt, Kurt and Blaine, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. Were these pictures the last he'd ever have of Kurt? Thinking of photos, he opened his Facebook page and quickly realized that Kurt had deleted his account. Blaine's account said he was still in a relationship with Kurt Hummel, but the link was gone. He did a search of Kurt's name, but nothing came back.
Kurt was gone.
Turning on his music program, he lay there, staring at the ceiling trying to listen and attempting to not think too much.
It's all I want, it's all I need
It all comes back to you, the only one
. . . . . . .
Kurt slid open the door to the loft. His loft. Cody, a friendly guy, had met him to give him the key but he'd had a date and needed to leave soon after. His loft was perfect. As he walked in, he grinned. It was even better than the photos Cody had sent him. It did need work, the hardwood floors were dull and there were cobwebs in every corner. The walls needed paint desperately, though he instantly decided he wouldn't paint the solid brick wall at the back of the loft. Peeking in the bathroom, he was surprised it was in pretty good shape. Even the bathtub/shower combo was clean. He opened the window to air out the old smell and was suddenly eager to finish his move.
After unpacking the van and setting up his air mattress and blankets, he turned on his mp3 player and grinned. Perfect.
I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window,
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance,
So close you can almost taste it
. . . . . . .
The one I needed I abuse, more color for the bruise
So I sing this song for you, there's nothing left for me to do
Goodbye dear one
Blaine clutched his phone to him, unable to tear his eyes from Kurt's beautiful face.
. . . . . . .
Release your inhibitions, feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you, only you can let it in.
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Kurt stood and spun around, his arms in the air and grinning like a loon, his voice filling the empty loft as he sang.
. . . . . .
Blaine sobbed quietly. All of their plans, gone. All of his plans, he corrected himself. He hadn't let Kurt have a choice in the matter.
Venus, I thought you'd bless me too, so selfish to presume
So I sing this song for you, and I hope that what is true
Will find a way to you, I sing this song for you
. . . . . .
Kurt was living his dream. He was doing it on his own, his own plans, and his own path. He wouldn't want it any other way. This was what he'd fought for every day since he'd received his Mark.
Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten
I break tradition, sometimes my tries are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes
But I can't live that way
. . . . . .
This was a nightmare. He would wake up and Kurt would be lying there next to him. His hair would be mussed from sleep, his smile soft. They would move to California and Kurt would make dinner and cuddle with him. Kurt would design him a suit to wear when he graduated as a doctor. Both of them would wear a Kurt Hummel Original when they got married.
Venus never showed the way, the stars would not be sold
Heaven stole the light of day, and we were never told
So dark the day, so much for life, for life and love
. . . . . . .
Kurt tore into the boxes, sorting what he needed immediately. He came across the journal he bought, wanting to journal every bit of his adventure, his new life. Grabbing a pen, he grinned and began to write.
Staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find…
. . . . . . .
Blaine wouldn't sleep that night, or the next. He would still go to California, but would still be looking for Kurt. Even if their bond was broken, he still loved him and would watch over him, even if it had to be from afar.
And now it's done, the color always changes hue
Bright to black and blue
So I sing this song for you
There's nothing left for me to do…
. . . . . . .
Kurt would sleep deeply that night and the next, his dreams filled with bright lights, big hopes, and freedom, precious freedom.
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten…
. . . . . . .
No this is not over!
Thank you so much to everyone who reads this. Your reviews keep me going, I can't tell you what your support means to me. Please continue to review!
And to T.F., my mind twin, thank you for your support, advice, and constantly making me laugh my a$$ off.
"Never Gonna Let You Go" by Sergio Mendes
"Song for You" by Fuel
"Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield