Blaine looks at me
and his face breaks into this smile
and I can't help but think
that I caused that smile
and I wonder how in the world
I'm worthy of it.
it's a laugh.
I'll say something witty
and he'll chuckle
and touch my arm—
or cheek or something—
and I think to myself,
I'd become a freaking clown
if it would mean hearing that laugh all day.
Right Now We're Walking Along the River
because Rachel said it would be a good idea
for the four of us to get some bonding time
but she's suddenly scampering away,
taking a laughing Finn with her
and Blaine and I are left alone anyway.
I won't deny that a few feelings come rushing back:
feelings of being left behind
and of being unwanted
from the times of when I thought myself to be in love
with that lanky football player.
But then Blaine takes my hand
and I drag myself to present day,
where everything is a hundred times better.
At Some Point
Blaine climbs on top of a wooden bench.
I don't question why anymore;
perhaps it was to illustrate a point
or because he wanted to see something in the distance.
I can't help but delight in his puppy-like ways
but apparently the bench doesn't feel the same
because it creaks angrily from underneath him
before leaning backwards to dump its load
directly into the river.
My First Reaction
is to run over,
check that he's okay
that he can get up.
He's standing up by the time I get over there
(thank God the river's only a few feet deep),
spluttering in indignation,
and I can't help but crack a smile
at his wide eyes.
He sees me and narrows his eyes
before accepting my hand to help him out.
and it takes all of my willpower
to not stare at his pants,
which are clinging to every inch of his skin.
He Laughs at Himself for a Bit
which succeeds in drawing my attention
back up to safer grounds,
back up to his crinkling eyes.
"Are you alright?" I ask,
holding his shoulders as he almost slips on wet grass.
"I'm fine, Kurt," he says, smiling, before taking off his soaked shirt.
Oh, wow. I'd say you are.