Before Tomorrow

You're Intresting

          I wrote RIB a letter asking if I could own glee, but they haven't replied yet...so until then all I own is my imagination.
...
         Tracy bounded in from the front door, making a beeline straight for the kitchen.
          "DADDY!" she yelled as soon as she saw him. Blaine's eyes lit up and he took her into his arms.
          "Hey pumpkin! How was school?"
          "Boing. Very very boring," she mumbled. Tracy picked up a fresh cookie from which Blaine was baking not moments ago.
           "Careful, Trace. They might be hot," her father warned. She nodded as she took a big bite of the gooey goodness.
          "Daddy, will you tell me more of the story?" She asked with a mouthful of cookie. Blaine played dumb.
          "What story?"
          "The one about you and Daddy! The last thing you said was when he got a milkshake thrown on him!"
          "Milkshake? No, sweetie, it was slushie. And yes, I know. You want me to tell you now?" Blaine asked as he wiped some cookie crumbs off his daughter's chin.
          "Now!" Tracy Anderson-Hummel said excitedly.
...
          I stood there. I stood there for what felt like forever, just staring at the unmoving bathroom door, where Kurt had entered not moments before. Quinn grabbed my arm and pulled me away to our next class, my eyes never drifting from the bathroom.
         "Blaine! God have you been eating cronuts again?! You weigh a ton! Move your legs boy!" Quinn was mumbling under her breath. I turned my head, offended, and started walking on my own.
          "I resent that. I do not weigh a ton, thank you very much," he said, defending himself. He made his way to biology.
            Quinn sat down smack dab in the middle of the room, and I sat next to her. Santana was also in our class, so she and Quinn chatted, while I pretended to contribute. With a, "oh my god yes," here, and a "ew," there. This seemed to satisfy them for the time being.
          Before too long, I just couldn't control myself. It was like my body did something before my brain could fully comprehend. My hand shoots up.
          "E-Excuse me Ms. Quest? May I use the restroom?"
          She seemed a bit agitated, but nodded. "You may, Mister Anderson, but you must use a hall pass and be back shortly. This will all be covered in the test next week."
         This elicited a collected groan from the entire class. Ms. Quest just waved her hand and continued talking, while I got up and grabbed a blue hall pass from her desk. In no time flat I made it to the bathroom.
          But when I got there, I froze. Everything hit me like a ton of bricks. Even associating myself with Kurt Hummel is social suicide. It was one thing to pine after him and secret, and a completely other thing to actually go after it...Not that I was going for him right away. I just wanted to...get to know him...help him...mentor him, in a sense.
          I was screwed. 
          Before my brain could say otherwise, I opened the door. I found a wet and very very blue Kurt Hummel. He was cursing under his breath.
          "Stupid popular kids. They think just because they are in the hierarchy means that they can get away with every freaking thing. No. No they can't. They can't treat me like crap. They are crap. No, they are more than crap, they are full on shit! Every single one of them. Not one kid in that group gives one flying fart about Kurt Hummel!" he said angrily as he wiped his face.
          My heart broke. I cared. I cared so much.    But he was right. I'm nothing better than them. I didn't do anything. How stupid stupid stupid I was. I kept repeating that over and over again in my head, until the angel looked over at me.
          "Take a picture, it'll last longer, helmet hair," he mumbled as he turned back to his reflection.
          "I-I'm Sorry...I didn't mean to stare..."
          "Sure you didn't. No one ever does," he spat sarcastically. I deserved it.
          "I'm so sorry...I came here to make sure you were okay..." I said slowly. Kurt turned and looked me in the eyes.
          "What? Do you have another slushy behind your back that you're going to throw at me as soon as I've cleaned up?" he raised one of his eyebrows daintily.
          "No! Never, Kurt. I've never slushied anyone, and I never want to. I'm different than my friends," I said earnestly, taking a step closer to him.
          Kurt looked at me suspiciously, not entirely convinced, "You're all like each other...maybe you don't...throw slushies at me, throw pee balloons at me, nail my lawn furniture to my roof, and throw me in dumpsters...bu-"
          "They do all that to you?!" Heat spread like fire through my heart out of anger. For crying out loud, how could someone do that to him?! Idiots!
          "Yeah, they do. And like I was saying, you may not be there for that, but you never do anything to help me! On numerous occasions I've seen you just walk away. And for that alone, it makes me hate you, Blaine Anderson. You never try to help me when I'm down, you never give me a second glance, never," he said, almost close to tears. I was too, myself.
          "You...you hate me...?" I deserved everything he was saying. Because it was the truth. It's what's been bubbling inside of me, waiting to burst out. And now it has. It was out, for the whole world to see, and for me to face.
         "From where it looks here, it looks like you hate me. Or at least don't care about me in the slightest. So why should I show you any compassion when you've sh-shown me none?"  My angel looked at me with hurt, tear-filled eyes. All I wanted to do was shout, 'I LOVE YOU KURT HUMMEL, DAMN IT!'
         But I couldn't. I stood there like an idiot for who knows how long. I gazed into his perfect eyes, brimmed with tears. It felt like a knife had cut up my insides, because I'm the one who made him cry.
          "K-Kurt-"
          "I don't need to hear what you're going to say! I don't! Because I know it's going to be defensive, and insulting, and I don't want to have to deal with that right now! Blaine Anderson you may be popular, but you don't own the school," he took a couple steps closer til we were nose to nose, "and you don't own me."
          I knew I should be intimidated by that...but our closeness made my heart beat fast in my chest...his eyes...his beautiful eyes were just inches away...and his lips so dangerously close...but he hates me. He hates me, and there's nothing I could do about that. I would do anything for that angel. I took a step back and whispered, "I'm not trying to own you. Not at all. I deserve every insult you throw at me, and I'm sorry..."
          Kurt had clearly not been expecting this answer, "Huh?" He asked, thoroughly confused with how genuine the apology was.
          "I understand that I've hurt you...and don't want to hurt you anymore..." I whispered.
           Kurt examined me for a moment.
           "How can I be sure that I can...that I can trust you...?"
          "You can't. That's the point of trust."
          Kurt smiles softly at this answer, "Fair enough..."
          It was a relief to see that smile after so long. I immediately returned the bright look.
          "Your interesting, Kurt Hummel," I whispered.
          Kurt looked me up at down, with the faintest of smiles on his face, "You are too, Blaine Anderson."