Author Note: Lord. I felt an instant connection with Kurt this episode. I mean, when he wasn't being a jerk.
Disclaimer: Possible spoilers for 1.11 if you haven't seen it yet.
Kurt walks as calmly as he can, considering the circumstances. But it still feels like his heels comes down too forcefully, and that he's squaring his shoulders in a stiff and unattractive fashion, and everything about him is loud and awkward. Kind of like Rachel.
Face impassive, only his upper lip curls in disgust, and in a poorly thought-out show of masculinity flooded with too much emotion, he strikes out at the nearest locker.
With a loud, metallic clang reverberating through the hall, tears spring instantly to his eyes, and he swallows his yelp of pain. Mostly. Shaking his numbed fist, he gingerly uncurls his fingers to find that they're not only not numb, but he's also scraped his knuckles pretty bad. Ignoring stares, he rushes back to his own locker, twirling the combination and drawing out a small red pouch with a little white cross on it. Cradling his injured hand to his chest in an overly dramatic show, he finagles the first aid kit open with one hand and swabs the minute scrapes on his throbbing knuckles with an antiseptic wipe, applies a pleasant enough smelling disinfecting cream, and tops the whole thing off with a small, neat Band-Aid. He won't bleed to death or anything nearly as serious, but his knuckles will definitely bruise.
Maybe he can ask Finn to kiss it.
Pursing his lips, he places everything back into his locker and closes it quietly before heading off to his next class.
All better, he thinks to himself, and he's not even sure if he's lying to himself about his hand or about Finn. He just tries to make himself believe it. All better.