Let Me Count the Ways

Sometimes I catch myself staring at him. Just staring. He'll be standing at his locker, practicing the choreography for the number that week, humming his part, lips folded in that way that revealed his dimples.

I'd watch his eyes light up when Mr. Schue gave us an assignment he liked, blue, sparkling basins that could bring light to the darkest of places. He would immediately turn to me, excitement practically gushing from his pores as he spoke. And there I was, holding his hands as he bounced in his seat, spilling ideas as he went.

I smiled like an idiot while he spoke, watching happiness brighten his features, quiet and simply mesmerized by him.

I loved the way he smiled. He hardly ever showed any of his teeth, dimples set deep in his cheeks. When I was graced with their presence he was usually laughing so hard he couldn't breathe.

I remember the first time I saw him. That little "excuse me" that changed my whole world. My jaw literally dropped as I looked at the most gorgeous boy I'd ever laid eyes on, no bias, I swear. I didn't know just where our relationship would go, but I knew that I wanted him in my life. He was the greatest decision I've ever made in my entire life.

Watching him walk was another task I thoroughly enjoyed. No…no, walk wasn't the right word for it. He strutted down the hall. It was an unconscious thing, his strut. His hips swayed back and forth, step almost dainty. He was a little more determined when he was angry, a little softer when he was tired, or thinking.

Then there was his voice. God, I could talk for days on end gushing about his wonderful voice. It was like the softest bell, and when it rang it rattled my entire body. I remember once at Dalton, right after we'd gotten together we were sitting in his room, watching a movie. I lay in his bed, my head in his lap. He started to sing along, rubbing my forehead. I don't remember what song it was, or what movie it was. All I remember was his gorgeous voice singing me that sweet lullabye. It didn't matter what he sang, it was always beautiful. It was hypnotizing. When he spoke I could do nothing but hang on his every word.

I adored watching him cook. I took Home-Ec strictly for this. Well, that and any time I could spend with him during school hours was a blessing. He kept the tip of his tongue on his upper lip, twirling the whisk, or spoon or whatever he was holding as he read the directions. He hummed or whistled, smiling at me when he saw me looking.

I had history class with him too. I sat behind him, watching him thumb his cheek while the teacher lectured, file his nails when he was done with his assignment or pour over his manuscript for "Pip-Pip Hooray" that he was constantly editing. His brow scrunched, lips pursed, blinking slowly.

Then there came the matter of Kurt's lips. Full and silk-like in texture and so very pink, almost red if we'd been kissing. Kissing…lord, when we kissed I didn't see fireworks, as Finn explained when he kissed Quinn (That conversation was really awkward, now that I think about it) no, not fireworks, more like a nuclear explosion, or some sort of planetary system imploding on itself to create a supernova. That's what I felt, that's what I saw. God, the way he kissed me, so soft and passionate. Fiery even. Oh god and when he uses his tongue, just a little bit, barely touching mine I nearly had a heart attack every time.

He drove me insane. He made me smile and laugh, he made my knees weak. Prom night nearly sent me into a coma. Despite not wanting him to get hurt due to his attire, I absolutely loved his outfit. In fact, I thought he looked spectacular. I told him so when we were dancing.

"You're the most beautiful Prom Queen in history, you know that?" I said softly. He blushed, he cute little ears pink as well. I kissed him, feeling his long lashes tickle my cheek. He pulled away quickly and we both looked around, making sure there was no one around to assassinate us or something.

I loved his skin, so soft and warm. I loved the way he dressed. I loved his little notebook he kept of an inventory of his clothes and what he'd be wearing for the next week or so. I loved his cute little dance moves in our group numbers that he thought no one saw. I loved his little spurts of hairspray between classes. I loved his sassiness and cutthroat attitude when we fought, I loved how damn sorry he was when we made up. I loved his butterfly soft kisses on my cheek. I loved snuggling into his chest. I loved the way he smelled.

I, unconditionally and irrevocably, love Kurt Hummel.

Kurt looked up from his text book, meeting Blaine's eyes. He blushed, fixing his hair, wondering what he was staring at.

"What's wrong?" He said softly. Blaine smiled, shaking his head and going back to his work.