31 Texts From last Night Day 28test_kard_girlJanuary 28 2013, 21:59:06 UTC
(212):he thinks he's going to hurt your feelings
(718):He can't hurt my feelings
(718):I don't have feelings.
"I just... don't think--"
"--You're dumping me." Puck interrupts baldly.
Kurt blinks at him; stupid big innocent eyes like Puck's the one who's just deposited his heart squarely in a trash-can.
"--I..." He moistens his lips. "I don't think I would put it that bluntly..."
"--Don't see any point in dancing round it." Puck shrugs, squinting as he glares up into the heavy October skyline.
The parking-lot's almost empty. The re-painted cab of Puck's truck cold against the small of his back, kinda dented from the amount of times he's stood against it like this: staring up into the sky; having a cheeky smoke; being pressed up against it by some hot thing with a phenomenal rack who lets him slip his fingers up her skirt.
(Or Kurt. The last few months; it's just been Kurt. Minus skirt, obviously.)
"Puck."
Puck twitches away from the other boy's fingers reaching for his arm.
"It's fine." He assures him tightly. "Whatever...
( ... )
New York #28 Mention of Kurt/Adam Flirtinggeeky_ramblingsJanuary 28 2013, 23:26:16 UTC
Brody expected some epic sweeping musical score when Puck and Kurt finally got together. Hell, he thought of their life together being tagged with "and they lived happily ever after." There was moments it was but there was other times where they almost break up. The whole episode with Adam had been the worst Brody had ever seen
( ... )
Comments 8
(718):He can't hurt my feelings
(718):I don't have feelings.
"I just... don't think--"
"--You're dumping me." Puck interrupts baldly.
Kurt blinks at him; stupid big innocent eyes like Puck's the one who's just deposited his heart squarely in a trash-can.
"--I..." He moistens his lips. "I don't think I would put it that bluntly..."
"--Don't see any point in dancing round it." Puck shrugs, squinting as he glares up into the heavy October skyline.
The parking-lot's almost empty. The re-painted cab of Puck's truck cold against the small of his back, kinda dented from the amount of times he's stood against it like this: staring up into the sky; having a cheeky smoke; being pressed up against it by some hot thing with a phenomenal rack who lets him slip his fingers up her skirt.
(Or Kurt. The last few months; it's just been Kurt. Minus skirt, obviously.)
"Puck."
Puck twitches away from the other boy's fingers reaching for his arm.
"It's fine." He assures him tightly. "Whatever... ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment