To Borrow A Heart (2/?)
A/N: So I don’t know a thing about borrowers since I’ve never read the book (legasp!), so all knowledge is pretty much taken from wikipedia. And Nils Karlsson Pyssling, not that it matters.
Chapters: 1
In retrospect, Blaine knew he shouldn’t have climbed up on the vanity when Kurt was there. It was stupid, but Blaine could see the little piece of shiny chain that Kurt had removed from one of his many pins, and he just knew that if he waited Kurt would probably move it somewhere else, and then he wouldn’t get the chance to borrow it.
He just hadn’t expected the lid to one of the jars to be loose, and he definitely hadn’t expected to fall in.
God, it was sticky and deep and he couldn’t move. Why the hell did Kurt even have this? Why did he put it in his hair?
“Oh my god!” Oh god. That was Kurt’s voice. Kurt. Who’d obviously heard Blaine’s shocked squeak and the commotion of the lid falling. Oh god, he was dead. If he didn’t drown in the gel, first. Oh god. He was. So. Screwed.
---
Meanwhile, and up until then, Kurt’s day had been fairly ordinary. And crappy, obviously, but that’s Lima. The Neanderthals at school hadn’t been particularly ruthless, but he’d still been slushied once and shoved into lockers thrice. Rachel had thrown a diva fit in Glee rehearsal, but then again, she often did.
He was just so tired of it all. Mercedes had been spending more time with Quinn lately and Tina was pretty busy with Mike. He just... felt a bit alone. Or very alone.
Things in general got a bit better after he and his dad moved - after the whole Finn fiasco his old basement hadn’t felt very safe, and after his dad’s heart attack they’d agreed on moving somewhere new, to a smaller house with just two bedrooms and an office slash guest room, without a bathroom that had slight water damage that they never got around to fixing.
The new house was also closer to the garage, and it was newer - with notably better air conditioning. Plus, a fabulous kitchen, designed by yours truly. A perfect place to cook healthy food for his dad.
A perfect new start.
But while home was better, school was just as bad. Finn had gone back to guiltily helping the bullies, and what with Shuester and his blatant favouritism at an all time high. He just wanted a proper friend, someone that wouldn’t dump him for someone better when the opportunity arose. Was that seriously too much to ask?
The only good thing about school was his AP classes. While not particularly difficult, because come on, public school, the assignments gave him something to focus on when he wasn’t sewing, cleaning, cooking, singing or...
Okay, so he kept busy, sue him. Anything to take his mind of the backwards cowtown he was currently residing in.
It was during one of these occasions of dedicated studying that everything changed.
He was startled out of a chapter on the French Revolution by a sudden clatter and a squeak coming from his vanity, and he shot up onto the chair, heart in his throat and mind screaming “Rat, oh my god, rat!”. He would have shrieked, if it weren’t for the fact that he seemed to have been rendered momentarily mute.
Oh god, what if it ate him and his dad got home to a dead son? Or what if it bit him and he contracted some serious disease?
What if it ruined one of his expensive facial creams?
Kurt wasn’t particularly proud of this moment, but thankfully no one saw him standing there with his book held high, wobbling on a swivel chair. But looking at the vanity, he couldn’t see a rat. Instead, there were two tiny, clothed legs kicking in thin air, the rest of a tiny body doused in his tub of hair gel. A tiny, human-like body. What the hell?
A tiny, human-like body currently drowning in his hair gel.
“Oh my god!” Before he could even think about it, he was standing by his vanity carefully lifting the small... thing, out of the tub by its pair of equally tiny suspenders.
Tiny suspenders. God, what had his life come to?
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Scratch that, he was certifiably insane. What was this, even? The thing - still flailing in panic - sneezed and coughed for a moment, and Kurt took this chance to look at it properly. Him. Because it was definitely a him, whatever it was.
He looked - well, drenched in gel, for starters - just like a human, just... small. Maybe six inches tall. Probably six inches. He had, from what Kurt could see, dark brown hair, a well worn little yellow shirt, suspenders and a red little bow tie, along with a pair of patched brown trousers.
“I-I’m fine! I’m-- I’m so s-sorry!” It, he exclaimed, and Kurt gingerly set him down on his feet on the vanity, clear of any jars. He figured his shock was setting in, as he himself sank onto the seat in front of it. He had to be dreaming, right? Little people didn’t exist.This was insane.
“That’s... okay?” He murmured, the sentence coming out more like a question. The tiny boy didn’t seem to be planning his escape just yet, simply standing there, looking somewhat terrified.
God, if Kurt was surprised by this small thing, what must he feel, staring up at him? Kurt must seem huge to him.
“What are you? Are you real?” He blurted, not exactly proud of his words. Kurt hummel was cool, calm and collected, he didn’t blurt. Finn blurted.
“I’m real!” The thing - boy - exclaimed in a moment of indignation, before deflating slightly. “I-I’m a borrower. I live here. Before you moved here. Oh, Oh god, you’re not supposed to see me, I’m so sorry. Y-You’re not... going to hurt me, right?” And he looked so unsure for a second, so honestly real, Kurt’s heart went out to him.
“Of course not! You’re not planning on hurting me, right?”
“No!”
“G-good, then. So no hurting.” He sighed, relaxing slightly. This was so insane. “What’s... a borrower?” The boy blinked up him. He had surprisingly deep hazel eyes.
“We’re... smaller than you, and we live under the floor or in the walls. We borrow.” His eyes widened. “It’s not stealing! I just take things you forget or throw away, like breadcrumbs and loose threads and such.” He elaborated, shifting slowly with a little wince.
“Oh. Okay. This... this is crazy.” Kurt sighed again. The little boy looked somewhat affronted. “It’s just, I never thought something, someone like you... existed. It’s... okay. You live here? What’s your name? Oh god, how many of you are there?” Again, not too proud of his demeanor.
“I live here. In the walls.” He confirmed. “And it’s just me! My- My name’s Blaine.” He trailed off, looking shy. Kurt furrowed his brow.
“Just you? But that’s... what about your parents?”
“My parents left with the old family that lived here. They... didn’t want me to come with.” And god, wasn’t that a heartbreaking notion.
“They just... left you?”
“Yeah. They didn’t like me very much.” He murmured, voice suddenly tiny and quiet. Blaine tried to shrug, but suddenly froze and stared up at Kurt in horror. “I can’t move. Oh my god what is that stuff!?” Kurt stared back, before jolting up from the chair.
“Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Here, let me help you. We need to wash that gel off.” He reached out a hand but stopped himself. “Oh, is it alright if I...?” He gestured slightly towards Blaine. Blaine just nodded slightly.
“Yes please.”
Kurt’s hands closed gently around the little body, gingerly lifting him up and moving to the bathroom. He helped Blaine wash off in the sink, using a tiny amount of shampoo to clear the gel off. Once done, and Blaine stood there soaking wet, Kurt hurried to get a small facial towel for him. He awkwardly turned his head as Blaine stripped out of his wet clothes, feeling like it would be impolite to watch.
“Thank you for this.” Kurt looked back at that, seeing Blaine bundled up in the towel, clothes by his feet.
“Oh, it’s my fault to begin with, I suppose. I was in a hurry this morning and I think I forgot to put the lid on properly.” He smiled shyly down at Blaine. “Would you, uhm, like to go back to the bedroom and sit down? Talk a bit?”
“Definitely!” With that, Blaine gracefully jumped down, smiling up at Kurt after he landed. As Kurt situated himself on the bed, sitting with his legs tucked up beside him, he watched Blaine climb up and seat himself as well, practically drowning between the towel and the duvet cover.
“So. This is... weird.”
“Yeah. I never imagined talking to one of you. I mean, I wanted to but... it’s not done. Borrowers aren’t supposed to be seen.” He explained, snatching up a loose feather from the cover and twirling it in his little hands.
“I understand. But me and my dad... we’re not bad people. We wouldn’t hurt you.”
“I know, I think. Your dad’s really big, but he seems nice. Not like the old people that lived here.” Kurt cocked his head at that.
“They weren’t nice, then?” He paused. “How... how long have you been on your own? You don’t have to answer.” It came out timidly, he wasn’t sure if Blaine would want to talk about that, but he so very desperately wanted to understand. To know more. Blaine seemed nice, sweet and gentle, something Kurt so desperately wanted more of in his life.
“No, not very. They screamed a lot and didn’t seem to like each other very much. And... it’s been a few months now. I’m doing good on my own, though.” It was probably meant to be reassuring, with the smile sent up at him, but Kurt couldn’t help but feel sad. He’d come close to losing his dad a while back, and if that had actually happened... Kurt didn’t want to think about it. And for Blaine’s parents to just leave him... it wasn’t thinkable.
“You shouldn’t be, though. On your own.” He clarified, at Blaine’s confused expression. He was rewarded with a timid little smile.
“Well. That’s life for you, I guess.” A shrug. “You have a nice voice. I- I mean, I’ve heard you sing a lot. You listen to a lot of good music.” Blaine seemed almost flustered. The sentence was sudden and startling, but Kurt couldn’t help but preen.
“Oh, thank you. Do you like music, then?”
That was the start of a long conversation. Blaine didn’t know many names, but he knew lyrics from songs and the plot to several movies he admitted to watching when Kurt happened to turn one on. Fashion, as it seemed, was another interest they had in common. He had thought he recognized the fabrics of the clothes Blaine wore - leftovers from Kurt’s own projects. They talked energetically for a long while, until a thought occurred to him and he quieted, smiling privately.
“What?” It came as an amused question, simple and non-judging.
“Nothing.” At the raise of a triangular eyebrow, he laughed quietly. “Just... I’ve never really talked to someone like this. Not without facades. It’s nice.”
A brilliant smile. “Same. I’ve never had a friend, actually.” They both went quiet at that, silently marvelling over the word. Friends.
They were jolted out of it by the front door, Burt calling Kurt’s name. He stood and smiled again. God, he’d smiled more than he had this whole week just in the past two hours. “He probably wants me to start dinner. We could keep talking later? I can bring you some food later if you’d like.”
“That sounds very nice.” With a final smile, Kurt exited the room, privately thinking that perhaps this day wasn’t quite so ordinary anymore.
Chapters: 1
In retrospect, Blaine knew he shouldn’t have climbed up on the vanity when Kurt was there. It was stupid, but Blaine could see the little piece of shiny chain that Kurt had removed from one of his many pins, and he just knew that if he waited Kurt would probably move it somewhere else, and then he wouldn’t get the chance to borrow it.
He just hadn’t expected the lid to one of the jars to be loose, and he definitely hadn’t expected to fall in.
God, it was sticky and deep and he couldn’t move. Why the hell did Kurt even have this? Why did he put it in his hair?
“Oh my god!” Oh god. That was Kurt’s voice. Kurt. Who’d obviously heard Blaine’s shocked squeak and the commotion of the lid falling. Oh god, he was dead. If he didn’t drown in the gel, first. Oh god. He was. So. Screwed.
---
Meanwhile, and up until then, Kurt’s day had been fairly ordinary. And crappy, obviously, but that’s Lima. The Neanderthals at school hadn’t been particularly ruthless, but he’d still been slushied once and shoved into lockers thrice. Rachel had thrown a diva fit in Glee rehearsal, but then again, she often did.
He was just so tired of it all. Mercedes had been spending more time with Quinn lately and Tina was pretty busy with Mike. He just... felt a bit alone. Or very alone.
Things in general got a bit better after he and his dad moved - after the whole Finn fiasco his old basement hadn’t felt very safe, and after his dad’s heart attack they’d agreed on moving somewhere new, to a smaller house with just two bedrooms and an office slash guest room, without a bathroom that had slight water damage that they never got around to fixing.
The new house was also closer to the garage, and it was newer - with notably better air conditioning. Plus, a fabulous kitchen, designed by yours truly. A perfect place to cook healthy food for his dad.
A perfect new start.
But while home was better, school was just as bad. Finn had gone back to guiltily helping the bullies, and what with Shuester and his blatant favouritism at an all time high. He just wanted a proper friend, someone that wouldn’t dump him for someone better when the opportunity arose. Was that seriously too much to ask?
The only good thing about school was his AP classes. While not particularly difficult, because come on, public school, the assignments gave him something to focus on when he wasn’t sewing, cleaning, cooking, singing or...
Okay, so he kept busy, sue him. Anything to take his mind of the backwards cowtown he was currently residing in.
It was during one of these occasions of dedicated studying that everything changed.
He was startled out of a chapter on the French Revolution by a sudden clatter and a squeak coming from his vanity, and he shot up onto the chair, heart in his throat and mind screaming “Rat, oh my god, rat!”. He would have shrieked, if it weren’t for the fact that he seemed to have been rendered momentarily mute.
Oh god, what if it ate him and his dad got home to a dead son? Or what if it bit him and he contracted some serious disease?
What if it ruined one of his expensive facial creams?
Kurt wasn’t particularly proud of this moment, but thankfully no one saw him standing there with his book held high, wobbling on a swivel chair. But looking at the vanity, he couldn’t see a rat. Instead, there were two tiny, clothed legs kicking in thin air, the rest of a tiny body doused in his tub of hair gel. A tiny, human-like body. What the hell?
A tiny, human-like body currently drowning in his hair gel.
“Oh my god!” Before he could even think about it, he was standing by his vanity carefully lifting the small... thing, out of the tub by its pair of equally tiny suspenders.
Tiny suspenders. God, what had his life come to?
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Scratch that, he was certifiably insane. What was this, even? The thing - still flailing in panic - sneezed and coughed for a moment, and Kurt took this chance to look at it properly. Him. Because it was definitely a him, whatever it was.
He looked - well, drenched in gel, for starters - just like a human, just... small. Maybe six inches tall. Probably six inches. He had, from what Kurt could see, dark brown hair, a well worn little yellow shirt, suspenders and a red little bow tie, along with a pair of patched brown trousers.
“I-I’m fine! I’m-- I’m so s-sorry!” It, he exclaimed, and Kurt gingerly set him down on his feet on the vanity, clear of any jars. He figured his shock was setting in, as he himself sank onto the seat in front of it. He had to be dreaming, right? Little people didn’t exist.This was insane.
“That’s... okay?” He murmured, the sentence coming out more like a question. The tiny boy didn’t seem to be planning his escape just yet, simply standing there, looking somewhat terrified.
God, if Kurt was surprised by this small thing, what must he feel, staring up at him? Kurt must seem huge to him.
“What are you? Are you real?” He blurted, not exactly proud of his words. Kurt hummel was cool, calm and collected, he didn’t blurt. Finn blurted.
“I’m real!” The thing - boy - exclaimed in a moment of indignation, before deflating slightly. “I-I’m a borrower. I live here. Before you moved here. Oh, Oh god, you’re not supposed to see me, I’m so sorry. Y-You’re not... going to hurt me, right?” And he looked so unsure for a second, so honestly real, Kurt’s heart went out to him.
“Of course not! You’re not planning on hurting me, right?”
“No!”
“G-good, then. So no hurting.” He sighed, relaxing slightly. This was so insane. “What’s... a borrower?” The boy blinked up him. He had surprisingly deep hazel eyes.
“We’re... smaller than you, and we live under the floor or in the walls. We borrow.” His eyes widened. “It’s not stealing! I just take things you forget or throw away, like breadcrumbs and loose threads and such.” He elaborated, shifting slowly with a little wince.
“Oh. Okay. This... this is crazy.” Kurt sighed again. The little boy looked somewhat affronted. “It’s just, I never thought something, someone like you... existed. It’s... okay. You live here? What’s your name? Oh god, how many of you are there?” Again, not too proud of his demeanor.
“I live here. In the walls.” He confirmed. “And it’s just me! My- My name’s Blaine.” He trailed off, looking shy. Kurt furrowed his brow.
“Just you? But that’s... what about your parents?”
“My parents left with the old family that lived here. They... didn’t want me to come with.” And god, wasn’t that a heartbreaking notion.
“They just... left you?”
“Yeah. They didn’t like me very much.” He murmured, voice suddenly tiny and quiet. Blaine tried to shrug, but suddenly froze and stared up at Kurt in horror. “I can’t move. Oh my god what is that stuff!?” Kurt stared back, before jolting up from the chair.
“Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Here, let me help you. We need to wash that gel off.” He reached out a hand but stopped himself. “Oh, is it alright if I...?” He gestured slightly towards Blaine. Blaine just nodded slightly.
“Yes please.”
Kurt’s hands closed gently around the little body, gingerly lifting him up and moving to the bathroom. He helped Blaine wash off in the sink, using a tiny amount of shampoo to clear the gel off. Once done, and Blaine stood there soaking wet, Kurt hurried to get a small facial towel for him. He awkwardly turned his head as Blaine stripped out of his wet clothes, feeling like it would be impolite to watch.
“Thank you for this.” Kurt looked back at that, seeing Blaine bundled up in the towel, clothes by his feet.
“Oh, it’s my fault to begin with, I suppose. I was in a hurry this morning and I think I forgot to put the lid on properly.” He smiled shyly down at Blaine. “Would you, uhm, like to go back to the bedroom and sit down? Talk a bit?”
“Definitely!” With that, Blaine gracefully jumped down, smiling up at Kurt after he landed. As Kurt situated himself on the bed, sitting with his legs tucked up beside him, he watched Blaine climb up and seat himself as well, practically drowning between the towel and the duvet cover.
“So. This is... weird.”
“Yeah. I never imagined talking to one of you. I mean, I wanted to but... it’s not done. Borrowers aren’t supposed to be seen.” He explained, snatching up a loose feather from the cover and twirling it in his little hands.
“I understand. But me and my dad... we’re not bad people. We wouldn’t hurt you.”
“I know, I think. Your dad’s really big, but he seems nice. Not like the old people that lived here.” Kurt cocked his head at that.
“They weren’t nice, then?” He paused. “How... how long have you been on your own? You don’t have to answer.” It came out timidly, he wasn’t sure if Blaine would want to talk about that, but he so very desperately wanted to understand. To know more. Blaine seemed nice, sweet and gentle, something Kurt so desperately wanted more of in his life.
“No, not very. They screamed a lot and didn’t seem to like each other very much. And... it’s been a few months now. I’m doing good on my own, though.” It was probably meant to be reassuring, with the smile sent up at him, but Kurt couldn’t help but feel sad. He’d come close to losing his dad a while back, and if that had actually happened... Kurt didn’t want to think about it. And for Blaine’s parents to just leave him... it wasn’t thinkable.
“You shouldn’t be, though. On your own.” He clarified, at Blaine’s confused expression. He was rewarded with a timid little smile.
“Well. That’s life for you, I guess.” A shrug. “You have a nice voice. I- I mean, I’ve heard you sing a lot. You listen to a lot of good music.” Blaine seemed almost flustered. The sentence was sudden and startling, but Kurt couldn’t help but preen.
“Oh, thank you. Do you like music, then?”
That was the start of a long conversation. Blaine didn’t know many names, but he knew lyrics from songs and the plot to several movies he admitted to watching when Kurt happened to turn one on. Fashion, as it seemed, was another interest they had in common. He had thought he recognized the fabrics of the clothes Blaine wore - leftovers from Kurt’s own projects. They talked energetically for a long while, until a thought occurred to him and he quieted, smiling privately.
“What?” It came as an amused question, simple and non-judging.
“Nothing.” At the raise of a triangular eyebrow, he laughed quietly. “Just... I’ve never really talked to someone like this. Not without facades. It’s nice.”
A brilliant smile. “Same. I’ve never had a friend, actually.” They both went quiet at that, silently marvelling over the word. Friends.
They were jolted out of it by the front door, Burt calling Kurt’s name. He stood and smiled again. God, he’d smiled more than he had this whole week just in the past two hours. “He probably wants me to start dinner. We could keep talking later? I can bring you some food later if you’d like.”
“That sounds very nice.” With a final smile, Kurt exited the room, privately thinking that perhaps this day wasn’t quite so ordinary anymore.