A/N: My first Glee fic. It may be deleted if I am not satisfied... I have a bad habit of getting frustrated with my writing and deleting it. So, sorry for the one or two people who may actually want to read this and I delete it...
Also, sorry because I ALWAYS have trouble trying to start out a fanfic... Grr.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
We've only known each other for a little while but I can't shake this nagging feeling that I may lo-
I don't mean to come off all stalker-ish and creepy but I sometimes watch you will you sleep and -
I keep writing these letters in hopes of finding one that is good enough for your beautiful eyes to see, but all I can do is -
There was a huge pile of crumpled up pieces of notebook paper at the corner of the room right next to my trashcan. I better pick those up or it'll drive Kurt crazy. He never liked messes, anyway.
It had only been a month since his transfer to Dalton but I had already gotten used to the idea of him as my room mate. I had so easily gotten used to it that thinking about walking in here and not finding his face buried in a book or singing shamelessly to show tunes was foreign. In fact, the time before having him as my room mate was forgotten. Like it never even happened.
Obviously, I had frustration with being so in love with my room mate. For the last couple of weeks, I had been sitting at my desk with a pen and paper trying to find the right way to let Kurt know I was hopelessly in love. And I mean hopelessly.
The door opened and I hurried to my feet and began to pick up my trashed letters in hopes Kurt wouldn't see -
"Ooh. Someone's frustrated. Care if I as why?"
I put the rest of the papers in the little trash bin and sat back down at my desk. "Yeah, just trying to finish the report for History... really frustrating." I had never been much of a liar to anyone and Kurt was no exception.
"Hmm," he hummed, obviously not believing my lie but he was too kind, too... Kurt to push me for the truth. "Need any help?" He started to pick up a paper wad I had missed and I instantly shooed his hand away. He looked at me warily. "I'll take that as a no."
"Sorry, I just..." don't want to let you see the letter that very poorly portrays my love for you? "...don't want to pester you with more work on top of your own."
"Pfft," he said sarcastically. "How many times have you stayed up with me past two in the morning to help with my homework?"
More than four times. But I didn't care. I rather enjoyed staying up past curfew to help Kurt... or you could say I just like staying with Kurt. Period.
"It's okay, Kurt. I can finish it myself."
"Mmhmm," he muttered sarcastically with a flop on his bed.
"Is that doubt I detect?" I didn't turn to face Kurt. Seeing him so at peace and so calm would just make me blush... deeply.
"Yes, Sir, it is." He flipped over so he was on his back. "You hate History."
"So!" I countered. "That doesn't mean I suck at it, too!"
"It kind of does, Blaine." Ugh. I melted every time I heard my name roll off his tongue. "You barely pay attention during class. I should know. You sit beside me. Every day." He hadn't said it in an accusing tone but I still blushed under his gaze.
"Okay, so I do suck at History. You don't have to rub it in." I stuck my tongue out at him in a childlike manner.
"I'm not rubbing it in. I'm merely proving a point."
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, Hummel."
Kurt smacking my back as an attempt to wake me every morning was surprisingly better than waking up with sunlight in my eyes.
"Class starts in half an hour! I'll never have enough time to do my skin routine!"
I rolled over lazily and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Slowly, I opened them. "I don't know why you even bother with that. Your skin is already perfect."
He pulled the blanket off of me, leaving me cold and awake. "Then I guess it's working."
"I'm up!" I shouted, though there was no need. "You are so stubborn," I mumbled.
"I don't even know how you were on time for classes before I came here."
"I mean, if it were up to you, you'd sleep until noon."
"No, I wouldn't," I argued. "I'd sleep later than that."
He had walked into the bathroom. When he heard my reply, he poked his head out the door. "Get up, Blaine Anderson," he said quietly, but demanding. I moaned again.
"But the sun hurts," I whined. He sighed, walked over to my bedside, and did something I had only dreamed about: Kurt Hummel slapped my butt.
My eyes shot open and I flipped myself over. "What the - "
"Up, Anderson." With another look, he made his way back to the restroom.
Oh. My. God.
I shook my head and stood; there was no way I could go back to sleep now. I was way too awake from Kurt's unexpected "Good Morning."
I grabbed my uniform and began to slide it on. When I was completely dressed, I put my books back in my bag and slid the carrier onto my shoulder. Kurt emerged from the bathroom a couple mintues later looking amazing as always in the required Dalton Academy blazer.
"Ready?" He asked. I could only nod in response. My mind was still reeling from my wake-up. He smiled at me politely and I almost melted right then and there.
Oh, Lord, help me. I'm in love.
A/N: Wee. So, while having a Colfer-sation (hehe) with my friend, this story was born. Here it is. Like it, review, don't like it, write a hateful review. There. Everyone's happy.
Also, the chapters will get longer, this is just sort of a way to start things out. That is, if anyone reviews with their opinion on if this is worth continuing.
Grr. Darren Criss is soooo supermegafoxyawesomehot. :)