Today is day twenty-one of the
30 Days of Puckurt Drabble in June! This Drabble-fest is now old enough to buy me a drink. Well, ok, that's years, not days, but whateva whateva I do what I want.
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rules for the drabbles; please remember to include a rating in your subject line if your fic is anything higher than PG
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Comments 83
He knows better now. He can see it coming in the slump of Puck’s shoulders and the thin smile he plasters on for anyone who isn’t Kurt. When it finally takes hold, he curls himself around Puck’s shaking form and strokes his back comfortingly.
“I’m here,” he murmurs soothingly, pressing his lips to Puck’s forehead.
Puck continues to sob, haunted by memories of hazel eyes and dark hair, as he clings to Kurt like a child.
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Fantastic!
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By the next Wednesday, Puck's overheard three more fights. One at the movie theatre, in the bathroom; Kurt doesn't know he was there. Another when they're in Dayton shopping. The third in the middle of Starbucks on Monday morning, while Puck's working. Somehow he's unsurprised that Kurt's sitting outside with a tall glass when he pulls up.
"I did it."
Puck blinks. "You broke up with him?"
"I did."
The words slip out before Puck can control them. "About time."
"Sometimes it takes awhile to say out loud what we already know is true."
Puck closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. That hits a little close to home. Sometimes it even takes awhile to admit things to yourself.
"You okay?"
"I'll be fine." Future tense.
"So will I."
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Mmmmm.
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