It snowed here for the first time last week, and it got me thinking about Kurt. I've always thought snow was magical in the way it covers up even the ugliest things to make them beautiful. And then I thought about the epic battle right now in Glee-dom over Blaine and Karofsky. While I personally prefer Kurt to redeem and then be with Dave, the GLEE people seem set on making Blaine Mr. Perfect "Light" and Dave Mr. Evil "Dark." So the snow got me thinking, what if Kurt was just ok by himself for a little while? What if he, too, got fed up with the black/white-back and forth, and just decided to be on his own? After all, there's nothing more desirable than someone who's ok being alone…and yet has that simmering of passion underneath…not unlike the blossoms under the snow. Ok, yeah, it's cheesy, but go with it…First Snowfall
December 12, 2010
Kurt woke up unusually late. Geez, it was almost 10:30! He was hours behind on his daily regimen. Shower, facial, wardrobe selection…perfection took time! But it had been such a blissful night of sleep after so many ragged ones. Finally, a full eight hours of rest, with no dreams of unrequited teenaged love or dangerous bully passion. It seemed strangely bright in the room, despite the curtains being pulled tight. It was beyond chilly.
Stumbling a little as he stood, Kurt pulled back the darkening curtains and lifted the shade. Silently, the smallest flurry was going on. The branches on the poplar outside the window had about a quarter of an inch of dusting. The ground was speckled, but the grass still poked through. It's probably still too warm to stick, Kurt thought. Typical, we'll still have school. And it's only a few days till vacation. He was so very glad to be going home.
He'd made it through his first few weeks at Dalton relatively unscathed. Everyone had been incredibly kind and patient and as accommodating as possible. And in all honesty, it had kind of irked Kurt more than he expected. For someone who had had to fight for most things in life that made him truly happy, the opposite extreme was a bit jarring, to say the least. But through it all, he was still excelling in his classes, singing at least some in the Warblers…and of course he had Blaine.
Well, "had" was too strong a word. Staring out the window, Kurt felt his pulse quicken and a tiny shiver overcame him, leading him to sit back on his bed and keep watching the snow. He grabbed an afghan he'd brought from home and wrapped it around him, as Blaine danced through his thoughts. He was different, Blaine was, now that Kurt was here in person, all the time. He was still fun and talkative and supportive, but he never stuck around very long. He would let himself get so close, only to hop up and walk away wearing that damn irresistible smirk of his.
Hell, last week, Kurt had helped him rehearse that stupid song, and the moment had felt so right, and he'd allowed himself to be so flirty, since Blaine seemed to ALMOST be egging him on, willing him to move, daring him to act…and then, again, he'd gone away, leaving Kurt to his thoughts by the fireside. It was maddening! To go from the infatuation with Finn to this? Was this what love did to people? He always thought of himself as intelligent, and yet here, in these two instances, mooning over a dim bulb and an enigma.
Of course, what choice did he have, really? Much as he ached, missing his friends and Mr. Schuester and McKinley…Karofsky was there. Kurt would never admit it, to his father, Blaine, Mercedes, anyone…but he still felt sorry for Karofsky. He knew what it was like in those shoes. And yes, he'd had that first kiss stolen, but…Kurt couldn't deny how weak his knees got when he thought of those strong hands on his face, the surprisingly earnest and soft lips. He'd lied bold face about Karofsky not being his type, but he had been trying to sound brave.
So going back to McKinley was out. He wasn't really scared of Karofsky anymore. Kurt himself had threatened to kill people from Rachel to Wes and David in the past month. Looking back, he realized Karofsky had been a scapegoat to be nearer to Blaine. And even more truly, he was afraid of what HE himself would do if he want back, knowing how Karofsky felt about him. Seemed to need him, want him…No one had ever wanted Kurt. Not Finn, not Sam, not even Blaine apparently…DANG, Kurt threw off his afghan and stared bustling around the room to clear his head. None of this meandering thought would help! It hadn't in weeks. Nothing had changed. Finn and Same were still straight, Karofsky was still unstable and closeted and Blaine was being flirty and vague.
Is this what my life will be? Kurt shook his head to clear the thought. Surely not every guy, gay or not, was like this. HE at least knew who and what he was. Always had. He knew what he wanted. It was about this second that he caught his reflection in the mirror in the corner. He saw a perfectly cute, (despite the bedhead), young guy who anyone would be lucky to have. Someone smart, funny, talented as anything, with a sense of style and panache to die for. Behind him in the glass, the snow still fell, covering up the grounds of Dalton.
It occurred to Kurt how the snow made everything beautiful, serene, clean. Smoothed away the rough edges and, to use a bad pun, chilled the world the hell out. He could do with a dose of that himself, couldn't he? It was almost vacation, he'd be out of here and back with people he could count on. His father, and Carole, and Mercedes and even Finn now that the weirdness was past. Who needs these confused, crazed boys? Who needs to be sad and lonely and locked away on a day like this? Who needs some dashing Katy Perry puzzle? Who needs some bulking balking closet case?
Kurt jumped for his closet, intent on picking out the most fashionable outerwear he had before starting up his now severely behind beauty ritual. He was Kurt Hummell, dammit! He was amazing. And hell, this WAS a boy's school after all. There had to be at least SOME other gay guys around. Kurt chuckled at the thought as he started the water for his shower, steam pouring over him and out into the bedroom. And you know what? He thought, even if there aren't, I'm not gonna be here forever. One or two more years tops. And then New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, London, ANYWHERE but Lima, or Westerville.
Kurt plunged into his morning wash knowing exactly what he was going to do today. He was going outside, dressed to kill, to build a snowman, by himself.