Welcome to the Glee Angst Meme again! You know how these things work. You can come here and prompt your most angsty prompts, and write stories filling those angsty prompts to let our characters suffer
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Re: The Houseguest (2b/?)akigarinOctober 6 2011, 20:26:34 UTC
The two of them rounded out the night together like they always did. Finn heated up two glasses of milk in the microwave, fished Kurt’s pills out of the locked medicine cabinet, and headed upstairs. Kurt was already dressed in his silk pajamas and sat in front of his mother’s vanity table applying moisturizer to his face when Finn entered the bedroom.
“So what was wrong with this one?” Finn asked, handing Kurt a glass, along with his pills.
“She has dirty fingernails,” Kurt murmured. He downed the pills with a grimace. “Who knows how many germs she was spreading around the house?”
Finn shook his head. "Germs. What about that last lady? She was nice."
"Please. There was no way her hair was natural. I can spot a bad dye job a mile away."
Kurt suddenly yawned. His medicine made him sleepy, which was why he took it at night. Finn patted the bed, but Kurt just smiled at him.
"I have to brush my teeth." He pecked Finn on the cheek and hurried into the bathroom.
Finn waited, staring around the room. It hadn't changed much since the combined Hummel-Hudson family first moved in. The decorations were still sparse and the vanity table set up just so. The only thing that had changed was the wedding picture on Kurt's bedside table.
Both of their parents were smiling at the camera, unaware of that in just two short years their lives would be over, snuffed out by a drunk driver on a rainy night. Finn wanted to reach out and touch the photo but Kurt didn't like his things touched and Finn was too clumsy to be sneaky about it.
When Kurt returned from the bathroom, Finn tucked him into bed. He would have thought Kurt would hate someone putting him to bed, but he seemed to like the attention, so it, too, became a nightly ritual, along with the milk and the medicine. Kurt rolled onto his side and stared at the picture on his nightstand until his eyes grew too heavy to keep open.
Finn stayed beside him for a few moments after, watching how his face softened into sleep and his breathing even out. Kurt looked almost like his old self like this. Finn always had this fantasy that he'd wake up in the morning and be the way he used to be, funny and snappy and, most important of all, sane. But it never happened. Kurt was sick. He was never going to get any better than what he was now, no matter what anyone wished for him.
Finn shut off the light and plunged the room into darkness.
“So what was wrong with this one?” Finn asked, handing Kurt a glass, along with his pills.
“She has dirty fingernails,” Kurt murmured. He downed the pills with a grimace. “Who knows how many germs she was spreading around the house?”
Finn shook his head. "Germs. What about that last lady? She was nice."
"Please. There was no way her hair was natural. I can spot a bad dye job a mile away."
Kurt suddenly yawned. His medicine made him sleepy, which was why he took it at night. Finn patted the bed, but Kurt just smiled at him.
"I have to brush my teeth." He pecked Finn on the cheek and hurried into the bathroom.
Finn waited, staring around the room. It hadn't changed much since the combined Hummel-Hudson family first moved in. The decorations were still sparse and the vanity table set up just so. The only thing that had changed was the wedding picture on Kurt's bedside table.
Both of their parents were smiling at the camera, unaware of that in just two short years their lives would be over, snuffed out by a drunk driver on a rainy night. Finn wanted to reach out and touch the photo but Kurt didn't like his things touched and Finn was too clumsy to be sneaky about it.
When Kurt returned from the bathroom, Finn tucked him into bed. He would have thought Kurt would hate someone putting him to bed, but he seemed to like the attention, so it, too, became a nightly ritual, along with the milk and the medicine. Kurt rolled onto his side and stared at the picture on his nightstand until his eyes grew too heavy to keep open.
Finn stayed beside him for a few moments after, watching how his face softened into sleep and his breathing even out. Kurt looked almost like his old self like this. Finn always had this fantasy that he'd wake up in the morning and be the way he used to be, funny and snappy and, most important of all, sane. But it never happened. Kurt was sick. He was never going to get any better than what he was now, no matter what anyone wished for him.
Finn shut off the light and plunged the room into darkness.
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