Fic: Once More With Feeling, Chapter 1/14
Title: Once More With Feeling (1/14+Epilogue)
Rating: R
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Blaine/Sebastian
Spoilers: -
Warnings: Discussion of depression
Word Count: ~3000
Summary: After a long year of separation, things are finally looking up for Kurt and Blaine. They're ready to start their lives together in New York as an engaged couple. Everything is perfect.
Until it's suddenly not.
Torn apart by forces beyond their understanding, they find themselves alone, facing a world that is just not quite right anymore. A second first meeting of strangers on a staircase brings another chance for love, but is that chance enough for them to find their way back to each other, and can they break the spell before it's too late?
Disclaimer: The characters aren't my property, neither are any song lyrics within this story, just borrowing it all for a bit.
Notes: See prologue
Chapter 1 - Going Through The Motions
It wasn't even dawn when Kurt couldn't stay in bed any longer. He felt restless and shaky, as if he hadn't slept at all last night. When his feet hit the floor, he flinched. It felt cold on his bare skin, and as uncomfortable as he should have expected from an old, wooden floor.
Sometimes, especially in the mornings, he felt unnerved by the loft they were living in. It was cheap, and it was theirs, but ever since he had returned from his summer in Lima, it just hadn't felt like home. It felt too open, and at the same time both too crowded and too empty. He wasn't sure what to call this feeling. He would have gone with homesickness, but if he was completely honest, even his dad's house had felt strange during those last few days. Maybe the problem wasn't the location, it might be him. He couldn't even put his finger on what was wrong. It was just a general feeling of unease, like something was missing.
Getting ready for the day had become a series of automatisms for Kurt. Before, he would have made a big deal out of choosing his outfits in advance. He still was careful with what he wore - working at Vogue did demand a certain level of style - but he had stopped playing with accessories and different combinations. He wore a style that was following the current trends, but when he looked at himself in the mirror, he realized his outfits were missing a more personal note. It looked good, but it didn't look like Kurt Hummel, not really.
He just couldn't bring himself to bother with it.
Rachel and Santana were both asleep, when Kurt left. It was still too early for his classes, but lately he often went to NYADA long before he had to, when he couldn't stand staying at the loft anymore. He used the extra time to rehearse texts, scales and dance moves - whatever felt best at the moment. Texts kept his mind from running in circles, dance moves exhausted him to the point where his mind just had to shut up, and singing... sometimes it was almost cathartic, sometimes it made him feel so lost that his throat would refuse to work.
Today felt like a day to dance. But even the exhaustion of an hour of increasingly difficult dance moves didn't manage to calm him down. His mind was still racing around. There was something wrong, things he needed to do, but he couldn't figure out what it was. What had he forgotten?
With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, not even caring if it got messed up in the process. After the dance session, it was probably a lost cause anyway.
At the feeling of his fingers against his scalp, he felt a surge of panic go through him. He stared at his hand, his fingers, only to find them bare. Where was it?
He turned around, but there was nothing lying on the floor of the dance studio. Kurt gasped for breath. He couldn't have lost it, could he? It should be right there, on his finger but...
But no, now that he thought about it, he didn't wear rings. Just where had that come from?
“Kurt?”
He looked to the door as he heard Rachel's voice. She was just coming into the studio, dressed in her dancing outfit, and her bag slung over her shoulder. “How long have you been here?”
Kurt thought for a moment, but he couldn't say, so he just shrugged. Rachel gave him a long, concerned look, that Kurt really didn't want to deal with right now, or ever.
“Do you want to get warmed up?” he asked.
Rachel sighed. “We both know that lunatic Cassandra will have my skin if I don't,” she said with a dry smile.
Kurt went to his own bag to have some water before the actual class started. Slowly, the other students started to come in. It was still early, but nobody wanted to be late for class with Cassandra July, not since she and Rachel had buried their enmity and she still hadn't picked a new Least Favorite Student.
Kurt's mood slightly improved during the class. He didn't mind Cassandra July's style of teaching. In fact, it was one of the easier classes for him. What she wanted were clear, precise movements, not heart. These days, perfection was easier than emotion. Also, in class he was pushed much farther than he could even manage in his own training sessions. It was so exhausting, that it was impossible to think about anything, or worry about things he couldn't even name.
But as usual, by the time they went to their next class, Kurt's thoughts had caught up with him once more. There was that feeling again, as if there were bugs under his skin and he just couldn't figure out how to get rid of them. Rachel was still giving him that look, but that too had become something that Kurt had gotten used to. He knew she was worried about him. He could even understand that she was concerned - if he was honest, he shared that feeling - but still, he dreaded the day when she would finally say something. It was nice to be cared for, he guessed, but he didn't know what to tell her if she asked him what was going on. He hadn't figured it out himself, yet.
By lunch time, Kurt was already tired of the day. To his relief, he was done with his classes for today. It didn't mean free time - after lunch, he still had to go to Vogue - but right now he was looking forward to it. School took a different level of concentration compared to work.
He always had a lot to do these days, between NYADA, Vogue and the diner. It was exhausting, and sometimes he had no idea how he managed it at all, but he preferred it this way. The busier he was, the easier it was to keep his mind occupied. He just wanted to distract himself from whatever it was that kept him so riled up all the time. It had come to the point where free time wasn't relaxing - it felt like a chore. But between not sleeping well and all those activities, Kurt sometimes wasn't sure he had the energy to go through the day.
Rachel was walking beside him to the cafeteria to grab a quick lunch. She had a rehearsal to get to, and was currently giving him a detailed description on what exactly was wrong with her understudy's dancing abilities. Kurt was always relieved when Rachel talked about her rehearsals. At least it meant that he didn't need to say anything, just walk by her side and nod from time to time. Whenever he managed to get her to talk about Funny Girl, at least she didn't look at him with that concerned, almost pitying look, the one that made him fear that today would be the day she finally would want to have a talk...
But by the time they sat down with their lunch at a table, Rachel was done with her latest tale. She just watched him again with exactly that look, and when she opened her mouth Kurt knew he had finally run out of luck.
“Kurt?” she said. “Can I say something?”
“Since when would you let anything stop you?”
She frowned at him. “I'm serious, Kurt.”
He sighed. “Spit it out, Rachel.”
Rachel hesitated for a moment, and then, with a visible inhale, she took something out of her purse and put it onto the table in front of her. The first thing Kurt saw was colorful paper, and his immediate thought was that she had put some of Miss Pillsbury's self-made pamphlets in front of him. A second look told him that this was exactly what she had done.
“Santana and I are worried about you,” Rachel said. “You have changed, Kurt. Ever since you came back from your summer break in Ohio, you've been different.”
Kurt glared at her. “You're being ridiculous,” he said and tried to sound as haughty as possible. He knew that she was right, it was glaringly obvious. But he didn't want to take a closer look at just what exactly was wrong with him. He had no idea what it could be, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer.
With a sigh, he took up the first pamphlet. It showed a kid playing with several test tubes filled with different-colored liquids, and the gray text on top read “So you're brain chemistry has gone out of whack”.
“This is serious, Kurt,” Rachel said.
With a snort he showed her the pamphlet before he looked at the other one. It showed a young girl that looked so depressed that Kurt couldn't even keep looking at her. She was sitting in a chair, while her room flowed apart around her like Dali's melting pocket watches. This one's title was “When life doesn't seem to make sense anymore”.
“I'm not insane, Rachel,” Kurt said, his glare intensifying.
“I'm not saying that! All I'm saying is that you're showing some symptoms of depression, and Santana and I worry about you,” Rachel said.
“Really? Santana and you? Then why aren't we having this conversation with her, at home?” Kurt asked.
Rachel sighed. “I suggested an intervention, but she wouldn't go for it. Then I suggested this, but she didn't want to confront you and told me to let you figure it out yourself.”
“That's a wonderful idea and you should listen to her,” Kurt said.
“No!”
Kurt sighed. He knew that expression. It was pure determination, and god help whoever it was directed at.
“Kurt, I'm serious! You have trouble sleeping, your appetite is gone, and you walk around this place like a zombie. I don't even remember the last time I saw you smile, and you have headaches all the time!”
“No, I don't. I just pretend I do, so you and Santana leave me alone,” Kurt said. And it wasn't as if that was a complete lie - only about seventy percent.
Of course, it couldn't deter Rachel.
“Social withdrawal is another symptom, Kurt,” she said. “Face it, you're not okay, and we notice, and we are very concerned about you, and so is your dad!”
“What?!”
To her credit, Rachel at least had the decency to look sorry. “Kurt, I-”
“You called my dad?”
“We were worried, and you don't exactly listen when we try to talk to you!”
“You did not bother my dad with some ridiculous theory just because I don't feel up for a freaking sing-along every single day, Rachel!”
“You can protest all you want, but he was worried about you before I even said a word,” Rachel replied. “You hardly talk to him anymore! When is the last time you called him?”
“That's none of your business, Rachel! You had no right to pull my dad into this!”
“Why are you so defensive? I'm not trying to attack you, all I want is to help you!”
“And as always you show the tact of a sledge hammer,” Kurt said with a scathing voice. “I don't need you to save me, Rachel. Did it ever occur to you that I didn't ask for your help because I don't need it? I'm fine, and now stay out of my life.”
“But Kurt-”
“This conversation is over, Rachel!”
With one last glare he stood up and walked out of the cafeteria. He could hear Rachel call after him - “At least look at the pamphlets!” - but he didn't turn around. This was simply wonderful. Now his dad was worrying about him. As if he didn't have enough on his plate already.
With his thoughts still on his dad and what exactly he should tell him now, Kurt made his way to his next class.He was just on the stairs to the second floor, when he heard a voice apparently directed at him.
“Excuse me?”
With an exasperated sigh, Kurt turned around - and stopped. Two steps under him, there was a boy he could have sworn he had seen around somewhere, although on the spot he couldn't remember where that might have been. He had dark hair that was slicked back, he was wearing unremarkable clothes - especially for NYADA - but there was something in his eyes that Kurt couldn't quite describe.
“Can I help you? My name is Kurt.”
“Blaine,” the boy answered with a certain sense of relief. “Thank you. I'm still kind of new here, and I think I'm a bit lost.”
“I can imagine,” Kurt said and stepped down so they were on the same height - or at least almost. “You're a freshman?”
Blaine nodded. “I have to be at Dance 101 in ten minutes, and I'm not sure how I get there from here.”
“Haven't you been there before?” Kurt asked. “This isn't exactly the first week of the term...”
“I know,” Blaine said, clearly uncomfortable, “but this whole place is still confusing me. I usually just follow some other students, but I had to see a professor between classes, and now I'm not sure how to get there... or where I am, really.”
“Say no more,” Kurt said. “I got lost ten times in one day when I started here.” It had been twice, but Kurt didn't think that the details mattered at the moment.
“Oh, thank you,” Blaine said, “I was losing hope here, to tell you the truth. Almost every person I ask for directions doesn't even stop.”
“That's NYADA for you,” Kurt said. “Believe me, this place is a shark tank.”
“But I can trust you?”
Kurt was caught off guard for a moment, but recovered quickly. “Only one way to find out, isn't there?”
Blaine smiled at him. “I think I'll give it a try.”
“Well, good,” Kurt said. His face felt strange, and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that he, too, had started to smile. Now where had that come from?
“So... shall we?” Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow.
Kurt's smile got wider, and then, surprising himself, he took the other boy's hand. “Come on, I know a short cut.”
“Did you do that?”
“I swear, he wasn't like that when he left. He was still completely in denial and wouldn't even look at the pamphlets!”
“Are you sure? Because it looks like you used some free anti-depressant samples in your intervention.”
“I'd never-”
Kurt sighed and shook his head as he tried to ignore his room mates' loudly whispered conversation. He wasn't sure they were even trying to keep it a secret, especially Santana, but he found that he didn't care. He could understand why they were confused. He knew that he hadn't been the easiest person to be around for the last few weeks. But today, he had been easy and relaxed, hadn't even snapped at Rachel for that stupid pamphlet maneuver, had been patient with every barb Santana had thrown at them, and had even ignored their squabble about tonight's TV program in favor of getting a bit further in the book he was reading.
He wasn't sure why, but today had somehow seemed... brighter, or maybe sharper, as if everything had been more focused than usual. And if he thought about it, that feeling had started after he had met Blaine.
Kurt wasn't the hopeless romantic anymore he had been upon graduation - New York and especially NYADA did that to people - and he absolutely did not believe in something as ridiculous as love at first sight. But he couldn't deny that something unusual had happened today. He hadn't spent much time with Blaine - just enough to lead him to Cassandra July's class room via not exactly a short cut but at least a scenic and memorable route, that Blaine probably would be able to remember for the next time. Kurt still had this weird feeling of déjà-vû, as if he had met Blaine before, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Blaine had seemed quite sure when asked that he at least didn't remember any previous meeting. Kurt still wished, that he had more time to talk to the boy. Then again, they went to the same school. There would be another opportunity.
“Oh dear god, is he smiling?! What did you give him, Berry?”
“I didn't do anything! Kurt?” Rachel came closer to where he was sitting on the couch, slowly, as if she was approaching a dangerous animal. “Are you feeling well?”
“I feel fine, Rachel, thank you,” Kurt said, “though I would feel even better if you stopped talking about me as if I wasn't in the room.”
“Well,” Santana said, while checking out her nail-polish, “honestly, I don't care what you did, just keep doing it, cause this whole ice queen thing is getting really old.”
Kurt just rolled his eyes at that. Despite her voice he knew that she and Rachel had both been worried about him - still were, really - and when he thought about it, it made him feel warm to know that the girls cared about him like that. It almost made him want to find out what was going on with him and fix it, if only so they could stop worrying. On the other hand, he was feeling better than he had in a while, so maybe he was just getting better without having to figure it out?
“I think I'll call it a night,” Kurt said and waved at the girls before he went to the bathroom. He could still hear them whispering - well, mainly Rachel, with Santana throwing in some sharp-tongued remarks that made him roll his eyes - while he was going through his moisturizing routine. Now that he thought of it, he had let that slide a bit lately. He should take better care of himself...
By the time he lay down in his bed, the girls had stopped discussing him and had returned to watching some movie they had managed to agree on. It usually ended with something they both hated equally, but at least they had learned to keep the volume down when somebody was trying to sleep. It was a nice gesture, although Kurt was sure that it wouldn't matter anyway. He wasn't exactly sleeping well lately, and would probably lie around, listening to them and trying to calm his thoughts enough that he could actually go to sleep. It was what he had come to expect.
Instead, he hardly heard the movie's opening, before he slipped out of consciousness. He woke again to rays of sunshine, only a few minutes before his alarm clock would go off. He felt calm and rested. This had to have been the best night's sleep in ages.
Kurt wasn't sure what he had been dreaming about, but when he tried to capture it, he remembered a feeling of calm and wonder, and the image of a huge, ornate corridor, a dark-haired boy in a navy blazer, and the question, what exactly the definition of a short cut was. It was obviously something his brain had thrown together from meeting Blaine yesterday. Kurt only wondered why this dream image felt more real than most of the last few weeks had.
Next Chapter
Rating: R
Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, Blaine/Sebastian
Spoilers: -
Warnings: Discussion of depression
Word Count: ~3000
Summary: After a long year of separation, things are finally looking up for Kurt and Blaine. They're ready to start their lives together in New York as an engaged couple. Everything is perfect.
Until it's suddenly not.
Torn apart by forces beyond their understanding, they find themselves alone, facing a world that is just not quite right anymore. A second first meeting of strangers on a staircase brings another chance for love, but is that chance enough for them to find their way back to each other, and can they break the spell before it's too late?
Disclaimer: The characters aren't my property, neither are any song lyrics within this story, just borrowing it all for a bit.
Notes: See prologue
Chapter 1 - Going Through The Motions
It wasn't even dawn when Kurt couldn't stay in bed any longer. He felt restless and shaky, as if he hadn't slept at all last night. When his feet hit the floor, he flinched. It felt cold on his bare skin, and as uncomfortable as he should have expected from an old, wooden floor.
Sometimes, especially in the mornings, he felt unnerved by the loft they were living in. It was cheap, and it was theirs, but ever since he had returned from his summer in Lima, it just hadn't felt like home. It felt too open, and at the same time both too crowded and too empty. He wasn't sure what to call this feeling. He would have gone with homesickness, but if he was completely honest, even his dad's house had felt strange during those last few days. Maybe the problem wasn't the location, it might be him. He couldn't even put his finger on what was wrong. It was just a general feeling of unease, like something was missing.
Getting ready for the day had become a series of automatisms for Kurt. Before, he would have made a big deal out of choosing his outfits in advance. He still was careful with what he wore - working at Vogue did demand a certain level of style - but he had stopped playing with accessories and different combinations. He wore a style that was following the current trends, but when he looked at himself in the mirror, he realized his outfits were missing a more personal note. It looked good, but it didn't look like Kurt Hummel, not really.
He just couldn't bring himself to bother with it.
Rachel and Santana were both asleep, when Kurt left. It was still too early for his classes, but lately he often went to NYADA long before he had to, when he couldn't stand staying at the loft anymore. He used the extra time to rehearse texts, scales and dance moves - whatever felt best at the moment. Texts kept his mind from running in circles, dance moves exhausted him to the point where his mind just had to shut up, and singing... sometimes it was almost cathartic, sometimes it made him feel so lost that his throat would refuse to work.
Today felt like a day to dance. But even the exhaustion of an hour of increasingly difficult dance moves didn't manage to calm him down. His mind was still racing around. There was something wrong, things he needed to do, but he couldn't figure out what it was. What had he forgotten?
With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, not even caring if it got messed up in the process. After the dance session, it was probably a lost cause anyway.
At the feeling of his fingers against his scalp, he felt a surge of panic go through him. He stared at his hand, his fingers, only to find them bare. Where was it?
He turned around, but there was nothing lying on the floor of the dance studio. Kurt gasped for breath. He couldn't have lost it, could he? It should be right there, on his finger but...
But no, now that he thought about it, he didn't wear rings. Just where had that come from?
“Kurt?”
He looked to the door as he heard Rachel's voice. She was just coming into the studio, dressed in her dancing outfit, and her bag slung over her shoulder. “How long have you been here?”
Kurt thought for a moment, but he couldn't say, so he just shrugged. Rachel gave him a long, concerned look, that Kurt really didn't want to deal with right now, or ever.
“Do you want to get warmed up?” he asked.
Rachel sighed. “We both know that lunatic Cassandra will have my skin if I don't,” she said with a dry smile.
Kurt went to his own bag to have some water before the actual class started. Slowly, the other students started to come in. It was still early, but nobody wanted to be late for class with Cassandra July, not since she and Rachel had buried their enmity and she still hadn't picked a new Least Favorite Student.
Kurt's mood slightly improved during the class. He didn't mind Cassandra July's style of teaching. In fact, it was one of the easier classes for him. What she wanted were clear, precise movements, not heart. These days, perfection was easier than emotion. Also, in class he was pushed much farther than he could even manage in his own training sessions. It was so exhausting, that it was impossible to think about anything, or worry about things he couldn't even name.
But as usual, by the time they went to their next class, Kurt's thoughts had caught up with him once more. There was that feeling again, as if there were bugs under his skin and he just couldn't figure out how to get rid of them. Rachel was still giving him that look, but that too had become something that Kurt had gotten used to. He knew she was worried about him. He could even understand that she was concerned - if he was honest, he shared that feeling - but still, he dreaded the day when she would finally say something. It was nice to be cared for, he guessed, but he didn't know what to tell her if she asked him what was going on. He hadn't figured it out himself, yet.
By lunch time, Kurt was already tired of the day. To his relief, he was done with his classes for today. It didn't mean free time - after lunch, he still had to go to Vogue - but right now he was looking forward to it. School took a different level of concentration compared to work.
He always had a lot to do these days, between NYADA, Vogue and the diner. It was exhausting, and sometimes he had no idea how he managed it at all, but he preferred it this way. The busier he was, the easier it was to keep his mind occupied. He just wanted to distract himself from whatever it was that kept him so riled up all the time. It had come to the point where free time wasn't relaxing - it felt like a chore. But between not sleeping well and all those activities, Kurt sometimes wasn't sure he had the energy to go through the day.
Rachel was walking beside him to the cafeteria to grab a quick lunch. She had a rehearsal to get to, and was currently giving him a detailed description on what exactly was wrong with her understudy's dancing abilities. Kurt was always relieved when Rachel talked about her rehearsals. At least it meant that he didn't need to say anything, just walk by her side and nod from time to time. Whenever he managed to get her to talk about Funny Girl, at least she didn't look at him with that concerned, almost pitying look, the one that made him fear that today would be the day she finally would want to have a talk...
But by the time they sat down with their lunch at a table, Rachel was done with her latest tale. She just watched him again with exactly that look, and when she opened her mouth Kurt knew he had finally run out of luck.
“Kurt?” she said. “Can I say something?”
“Since when would you let anything stop you?”
She frowned at him. “I'm serious, Kurt.”
He sighed. “Spit it out, Rachel.”
Rachel hesitated for a moment, and then, with a visible inhale, she took something out of her purse and put it onto the table in front of her. The first thing Kurt saw was colorful paper, and his immediate thought was that she had put some of Miss Pillsbury's self-made pamphlets in front of him. A second look told him that this was exactly what she had done.
“Santana and I are worried about you,” Rachel said. “You have changed, Kurt. Ever since you came back from your summer break in Ohio, you've been different.”
Kurt glared at her. “You're being ridiculous,” he said and tried to sound as haughty as possible. He knew that she was right, it was glaringly obvious. But he didn't want to take a closer look at just what exactly was wrong with him. He had no idea what it could be, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer.
With a sigh, he took up the first pamphlet. It showed a kid playing with several test tubes filled with different-colored liquids, and the gray text on top read “So you're brain chemistry has gone out of whack”.
“This is serious, Kurt,” Rachel said.
With a snort he showed her the pamphlet before he looked at the other one. It showed a young girl that looked so depressed that Kurt couldn't even keep looking at her. She was sitting in a chair, while her room flowed apart around her like Dali's melting pocket watches. This one's title was “When life doesn't seem to make sense anymore”.
“I'm not insane, Rachel,” Kurt said, his glare intensifying.
“I'm not saying that! All I'm saying is that you're showing some symptoms of depression, and Santana and I worry about you,” Rachel said.
“Really? Santana and you? Then why aren't we having this conversation with her, at home?” Kurt asked.
Rachel sighed. “I suggested an intervention, but she wouldn't go for it. Then I suggested this, but she didn't want to confront you and told me to let you figure it out yourself.”
“That's a wonderful idea and you should listen to her,” Kurt said.
“No!”
Kurt sighed. He knew that expression. It was pure determination, and god help whoever it was directed at.
“Kurt, I'm serious! You have trouble sleeping, your appetite is gone, and you walk around this place like a zombie. I don't even remember the last time I saw you smile, and you have headaches all the time!”
“No, I don't. I just pretend I do, so you and Santana leave me alone,” Kurt said. And it wasn't as if that was a complete lie - only about seventy percent.
Of course, it couldn't deter Rachel.
“Social withdrawal is another symptom, Kurt,” she said. “Face it, you're not okay, and we notice, and we are very concerned about you, and so is your dad!”
“What?!”
To her credit, Rachel at least had the decency to look sorry. “Kurt, I-”
“You called my dad?”
“We were worried, and you don't exactly listen when we try to talk to you!”
“You did not bother my dad with some ridiculous theory just because I don't feel up for a freaking sing-along every single day, Rachel!”
“You can protest all you want, but he was worried about you before I even said a word,” Rachel replied. “You hardly talk to him anymore! When is the last time you called him?”
“That's none of your business, Rachel! You had no right to pull my dad into this!”
“Why are you so defensive? I'm not trying to attack you, all I want is to help you!”
“And as always you show the tact of a sledge hammer,” Kurt said with a scathing voice. “I don't need you to save me, Rachel. Did it ever occur to you that I didn't ask for your help because I don't need it? I'm fine, and now stay out of my life.”
“But Kurt-”
“This conversation is over, Rachel!”
With one last glare he stood up and walked out of the cafeteria. He could hear Rachel call after him - “At least look at the pamphlets!” - but he didn't turn around. This was simply wonderful. Now his dad was worrying about him. As if he didn't have enough on his plate already.
With his thoughts still on his dad and what exactly he should tell him now, Kurt made his way to his next class.He was just on the stairs to the second floor, when he heard a voice apparently directed at him.
“Excuse me?”
With an exasperated sigh, Kurt turned around - and stopped. Two steps under him, there was a boy he could have sworn he had seen around somewhere, although on the spot he couldn't remember where that might have been. He had dark hair that was slicked back, he was wearing unremarkable clothes - especially for NYADA - but there was something in his eyes that Kurt couldn't quite describe.
“Can I help you? My name is Kurt.”
“Blaine,” the boy answered with a certain sense of relief. “Thank you. I'm still kind of new here, and I think I'm a bit lost.”
“I can imagine,” Kurt said and stepped down so they were on the same height - or at least almost. “You're a freshman?”
Blaine nodded. “I have to be at Dance 101 in ten minutes, and I'm not sure how I get there from here.”
“Haven't you been there before?” Kurt asked. “This isn't exactly the first week of the term...”
“I know,” Blaine said, clearly uncomfortable, “but this whole place is still confusing me. I usually just follow some other students, but I had to see a professor between classes, and now I'm not sure how to get there... or where I am, really.”
“Say no more,” Kurt said. “I got lost ten times in one day when I started here.” It had been twice, but Kurt didn't think that the details mattered at the moment.
“Oh, thank you,” Blaine said, “I was losing hope here, to tell you the truth. Almost every person I ask for directions doesn't even stop.”
“That's NYADA for you,” Kurt said. “Believe me, this place is a shark tank.”
“But I can trust you?”
Kurt was caught off guard for a moment, but recovered quickly. “Only one way to find out, isn't there?”
Blaine smiled at him. “I think I'll give it a try.”
“Well, good,” Kurt said. His face felt strange, and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that he, too, had started to smile. Now where had that come from?
“So... shall we?” Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow.
Kurt's smile got wider, and then, surprising himself, he took the other boy's hand. “Come on, I know a short cut.”
“Did you do that?”
“I swear, he wasn't like that when he left. He was still completely in denial and wouldn't even look at the pamphlets!”
“Are you sure? Because it looks like you used some free anti-depressant samples in your intervention.”
“I'd never-”
Kurt sighed and shook his head as he tried to ignore his room mates' loudly whispered conversation. He wasn't sure they were even trying to keep it a secret, especially Santana, but he found that he didn't care. He could understand why they were confused. He knew that he hadn't been the easiest person to be around for the last few weeks. But today, he had been easy and relaxed, hadn't even snapped at Rachel for that stupid pamphlet maneuver, had been patient with every barb Santana had thrown at them, and had even ignored their squabble about tonight's TV program in favor of getting a bit further in the book he was reading.
He wasn't sure why, but today had somehow seemed... brighter, or maybe sharper, as if everything had been more focused than usual. And if he thought about it, that feeling had started after he had met Blaine.
Kurt wasn't the hopeless romantic anymore he had been upon graduation - New York and especially NYADA did that to people - and he absolutely did not believe in something as ridiculous as love at first sight. But he couldn't deny that something unusual had happened today. He hadn't spent much time with Blaine - just enough to lead him to Cassandra July's class room via not exactly a short cut but at least a scenic and memorable route, that Blaine probably would be able to remember for the next time. Kurt still had this weird feeling of déjà-vû, as if he had met Blaine before, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Blaine had seemed quite sure when asked that he at least didn't remember any previous meeting. Kurt still wished, that he had more time to talk to the boy. Then again, they went to the same school. There would be another opportunity.
“Oh dear god, is he smiling?! What did you give him, Berry?”
“I didn't do anything! Kurt?” Rachel came closer to where he was sitting on the couch, slowly, as if she was approaching a dangerous animal. “Are you feeling well?”
“I feel fine, Rachel, thank you,” Kurt said, “though I would feel even better if you stopped talking about me as if I wasn't in the room.”
“Well,” Santana said, while checking out her nail-polish, “honestly, I don't care what you did, just keep doing it, cause this whole ice queen thing is getting really old.”
Kurt just rolled his eyes at that. Despite her voice he knew that she and Rachel had both been worried about him - still were, really - and when he thought about it, it made him feel warm to know that the girls cared about him like that. It almost made him want to find out what was going on with him and fix it, if only so they could stop worrying. On the other hand, he was feeling better than he had in a while, so maybe he was just getting better without having to figure it out?
“I think I'll call it a night,” Kurt said and waved at the girls before he went to the bathroom. He could still hear them whispering - well, mainly Rachel, with Santana throwing in some sharp-tongued remarks that made him roll his eyes - while he was going through his moisturizing routine. Now that he thought of it, he had let that slide a bit lately. He should take better care of himself...
By the time he lay down in his bed, the girls had stopped discussing him and had returned to watching some movie they had managed to agree on. It usually ended with something they both hated equally, but at least they had learned to keep the volume down when somebody was trying to sleep. It was a nice gesture, although Kurt was sure that it wouldn't matter anyway. He wasn't exactly sleeping well lately, and would probably lie around, listening to them and trying to calm his thoughts enough that he could actually go to sleep. It was what he had come to expect.
Instead, he hardly heard the movie's opening, before he slipped out of consciousness. He woke again to rays of sunshine, only a few minutes before his alarm clock would go off. He felt calm and rested. This had to have been the best night's sleep in ages.
Kurt wasn't sure what he had been dreaming about, but when he tried to capture it, he remembered a feeling of calm and wonder, and the image of a huge, ornate corridor, a dark-haired boy in a navy blazer, and the question, what exactly the definition of a short cut was. It was obviously something his brain had thrown together from meeting Blaine yesterday. Kurt only wondered why this dream image felt more real than most of the last few weeks had.
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