Long, long, long time no see- so what have I been up to?
Well. I was doing NaNoWriMo! And I won, with 52k words! So that's why I wasn't really around much.
And now, we're going back to regular, scheduled drabbles every Saturday! :) So, I hope you enjoy this one, and I'll see you back here next Saturday! Take care, guys.
And the Storm Dies Down
Morning comes with muffled noises of the bustling city outside the window, and rain pouring from the gray clouds above.
It's as calm as it gets these days, really, and Blaine usually enjoys his mornings in this semi-silence; but today, as soon as he wakes up he remembers the previous day, and he pulls his knees to his chest like a stubborn child, hiding under the heavy wool blanket. He doesn't want to open his eyes, to face this day and its obstacles. Can't he just sleep, for one more minute, one more hour, one more day?
No. He can't. He's a grown man and he has a job and rent and bills to pay and food to buy… and that's it, for now. He rolls out of bed- the cold air hits his skin and shocks him for a second- and doesn't look back at the man still lying in the bed as he goes to the bathroom.
But in the shower, he can't quiet his weary mind. The little apartment has been filled with either roaring silence or screaming lately, and Blaine could bang his head against the shower wall as the things he said float back up in his mind.
God, he just wants this to be over. But he knows he can't wish this fight away; he has to actually work through it. No magic shortcuts.
He sighs.
The water is just a little too cold, and Blaine shivers, rushing out- and Kurt is standing in the doorway.
Blaine's not ashamed of his body around Kurt; Kurt's seen him naked countless times, knows his body better than he knows it himself, sometimes. But still he feels the need to cower, to hide from Kurt's searching eyes.
"Good morning," he says without a smile.
"Good morning."
Blaine ducks his head and grabs his towel, wrapping up in it and wanting to leave the room; Kurt blocks the doorway still, and puts a cold hand on his forearm.
"Wait, B," he says. Blaine looks at him, tired, with no spark in his eyes. "I can't go on like this."
"Well-"
"Listen to me," Kurt says, pleading. Blaine is shocked at his tone; he hasn't heard anything but anger thrown at him these past few days. "I know you're still mad. I'm still mad, too. But, please, I can't anymore. I'm so- so tired and- I'm exhausted, and I just need you. I haven't kissed you in thirty six hours. I haven't touched your skin-" he rubs a thumb over the goosebumps on Blaine's skin, "in over a day."
"We need to sit down and talk about this, really talk about this, without all the yelling and the crying," says Blaine. "We have to solve this, work through it."
Kurt nods. "But please, can we- just pause for a second? Because I can't- I'm not- I can't take it right now. I promise we'll talk about this. I promise I'll do whatever- whatever it may take to make sure you and I come out on the other side of this stronger. But right now I'm not strong enough."
He looks so small, young, sad. Just like when they were in high school, before Kurt became this god, this invincible creature made of light that blinded you with its brightness. The need to protect, to hold, burns inside Blaine; with it, burns the desire to be held, to be kept protected.
"Yeah, me too," he nods.
They fall together into a hug- there's no knowing who made the first move- and Blaine puts his lips to Kurt's neck. Kurt closes his eyes.
"Are we going to be okay?" Blaine asks.
Kurt tightens his arms around Blaine's waist. "We are," he breathes. "We are."