Breathe Again

Chapter 7

A loud bang resounded throughout the office as Kurt let out a frustrated groan and flopped back on to his chair, glaring at the dent in the wall that he had created.

"What was – what the hell Kurt?" Hannah screeched upon spotting the cracked paint.

"Sorry," Kurt mumbled, eyes not faltering from their fixed glare on the ceiling.

"What the hell did you throw?" She asked, looking around for the offending object.

"My phone," Kurt said simply.

"Good god, Kurt." Hannah let out a sigh before moving towards the newly spotted object that lay a few inches from the wall. "Your phone hasn't done anything to you," she joked, hoping to lighten his mood in the slightest. She chuckled when he shot her a glare before looking back at the ceiling.

"He won't answer," he stated flatly. "I've called him multiple times every day this week, and have sent at least a thousand texts, but nothing. Not one reply."

"Are you serious? This is still about Blaine?" She picked up the phone and made her way to his desk. "Do you honestly blame him? Rachel told me what happened when she called him for you, and as far as I'm concerned, you were a complete ass," she scolded as she set his phone down on the desk.

"Which is why I would like to talk to him." Kurt reached for his phone, shooting the girl another glare when she placed her hand over top of it to prevent him from retrieving it. "Hannah – "

"No, don't 'Hannah' me," she told him as she picked up the phone. "We don't need James finding anymore dents in the walls. If you'd like to keep your job, that is."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Kurt reluctantly agreed, slumping further into his chair. "I just really need to explain myself to him."

"Then get off your ass and do it. If he won't return your calls, go to him."

"You think I should?" Kurt asked, worrying his bottom lip, his eyes questioning.

She nodded approvingly. "If it'll get you to stop moping around the office and actually work, then I'm all for it. You've got eight days to get your shit together and release the November issue, and so far, you're doing a terrible job. So, go talk to him. Clear things up, and come back when you can keep focused on your job for more than twenty seconds."

...

"Just answer it," Sam sighed as Blaine's phone began to vibrate once again, the display lighting up the corner of the club where they currently sat. "He's not going to stop until you do."

"I'm sure he'll get the hint at some point," Blaine muttered, taking another sip of his drink.

"Really? Because someone who could take a hint would have given up a while ago, yet he's still calling." Sam pointedly picked Blaine's phone up off of the table and rejected the call.

"Like I said, he'll get the hint at some point," Blaine sighed.

"What happened between the two of you, anyways?" Sam asked curiously as he took a sip of his drink, tilting his head in question. All Sam knew about the incident in question was that Blaine had stormed into his apartment after leaving Kurt's, ignoring him when he asked what was up as he flew into his room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Blaine felt childish thinking about it now. He was sure it seemed like he had thrown a tantrum just because Kurt had pushed him away, but truthfully, he was fed up of Kurt tossing him back and forth. It had gone from 'no,' to 'you don't want me,' to 'maybe,' to 'friends,' to 'I like you,' and then right back to 'no,' all in the span of three weeks. Blaine couldn't let himself continue to get his hopes up before having them ripped to shreds and tossed in his face.