The next part of You're Taking Over Me- number VII!
For anyone who's been confused, I'll post a list of the pervious chapters before any new one in this series.
So far we have:
Save Me | Embrace Me | Await Me | Intoxicate Me | Leave Me | Dream Me
Forgive Me
Kurt woke up to a loud buzzing noise.
Who the fuck was texting him in the middle of the night, and where are they escaping to when he comes after them with an axe?
He was having a good dream, dammit. He was married to Taylor Lautner, Marc Jacobs just recruited him as a creative director, and he finally moved out of the dumb loft to a huge penthouse.
Why would someone want to ruin this lovely dream of his?
Muttering a shutup to his phone, he 'slid to show the message', squinting at the sudden brightness.
I'm sorry, the message read.
What the fuck. Kurt wasn't awake enough for this. Who even-
Oh.
The sender was Blaine Anderson.
I'm sorry.
Sorry about what? Kurt was the one who needed to apologize. He was the one who was perfectly rude, forcing himself on Blaine like he swore to never to do anyone, and kissed him.
Why are you sorry? He typed, careful as for typos, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.
It took Blaine long enough to reply that Kurt's eyelids were already closed when he did, and he had to force them open to read the text.
For leaving like that. For not telling you it wasn't your fault when you apologized. For being utterly rude every time we spoke.
Kurt was going to write it's not true, but another incoming text interrupted him.
I'm not sorry for kissing you, though. I'm sorry if it hurt you, but I'm not taking it back.
New information.
Blaine Anderson wanted to kiss him.
Wow.
First of all, he began, knowing this is way too late for coherency, you weren't rude. I liked talking to you. Second of all, I liked kissing you as well. He stopped for a second, took a breath, ignored every single fiber in his soul screaming at him not to do it, and typed, Can we meet again tomorrow? This is not something to discuss over texting.
He pressed 'send' before the regret could hit him.
Three, two, one… There it is. Kurt sighed at the twinge of I really shouldn't have done that.
He let himself drift back to half-sleeping for a moment, closing his eyes, too tired to move any other muscle.
The next buzzing of his phone jerked him back to consciousness.
Okay. Same time, same place?
I. Am. So. Tired.
I literally feel like I'm about to pass out and it's not even eleven p.m. here yet.