Ficlet: I Love You, I Miss You (G)
Media: Ficlet
Type: One-shot
Title: I Love You, I Miss You
Author: lola_mejor
Word Count: 683
Rating: G
Genre: Drama
Pairings: Klaine
Spoilers: Nope
Warning: Unbeta’d
Disclaimer: They’re not mine. Which is a shame, because if they were there’d be lots of sex.
Summary: Kurt’s in New York, missing Blaine.
A/N: I was too tired to complete the final edit on the latest chapter of my WIP last night, but really needed to write... a future ficlet ensued.
Dedicated to Mr Lola, who is far away at the moment.
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Kurt closes the door to his small apartment quietly and leans against the wall. He listens to the tiny sounds for a moment, gaining his bearings and calming himself. The fridge hums from the kitchenette and he can hear the faint whine of the TV on standby in the corner. There are muffled sounds coming from Rachel’s room, indicating she is home and watching something on her computer. There is no light under her door, however.
He moves expertly across the small space to his room and pushes the door open, turning the light on as he moves through the doorframe. His bed is as he left it that morning, sheets rumpled with his pajama bottoms and tank top thrown carelessly on the pillow. How his father would chuckle at him if he could see that. The once impeccably tidy Kurt letting the little things go.
He sits at the end of the bed and unlaces his shoes slowly, the silence closing in on him. He steps out of the shoes, placing them neatly in the corner, and changes out of his clothes into the pajama bottoms and tank top.
Standing in the middle of the room, he sighs.
So many nights were like this. So many nights ended like this. It didn’t matter what he’d done, or where he’d been, or who he’d been with. He would always find himself in the same room, aching.
Aching for Blaine.
New York isn’t lonely. New York is fabulous. His classmates are fabulous. So fabulous, in fact, that he spends a lot more time with them than Rachel. He might live with Rachel, but they aren't really close. Not like before.
Nothing happened, really. Kurt just finds it too hard. Too hard to hang out with any of the McKinley kids who have found their way to New York that year. He loves them all but every time he looks at them he expects to feel the warm brush of Blaine’s hand against his, the press of Blaine’s body against his, the soft press of Blaine’s lips against his.
And his new friends don't constantly ask how Blaine is. With them, he can escape from the aching that fills him now.
But he can't escape from anything in his room.
Late at night is the worst. Even when he and Blaine chat on Skype, it doesn’t help. It’s not like they have anything new to talk about, everyday is one long conversation via text message so by the time they get to Skype there is never much left to say, other than “I love you” and “I miss you” over and over again. Because he does, and he does.
Most of the time, they just kind of look at each other, both hurting and aching and on the point of tears.
“I love you. I miss you.”
It's not exactly helpful. But then nothing can help.
Nothing can help Kurt feel Blaine’s arms around his, or feel Blaine in his arms. Nothing can help Kurt when he wants to just bury himself in the scent of Blaine which is oh so familiar but maddeningly unreachable. He hasn’t forgotten it, but he can’t smell Blaine and the memory is so clear it’s disorienting.
He retrieves his phone from where he placed it on the nightstand before changing out of his jeans and types in a goodnight message.
“I love you. I miss you.”
He tosses the phone onto the bed, turns the light off, and lays down, his fingers lacing around the cool rectangular shape next to him. He is too tired to brush his teeth. Too weary to observe his skin care regime. Too exhausted to miss Blaine.
But he does.
The phone buzzes.
“I love you. I miss you.”
Kurt sighs, and puts the phone back on the nightstand. He pulls the sheet up over himself and closes his eyes, willing the New York night away, so that he’ll be one day closer to seeing Blaine again.
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Fin.