New York, You're Perfect

New York, You're Perfect - Part Six

A/N Hey y'all! Thankyou if you're still reading this :) Just wanted to say I love you (And still don't own anything) ♥

                     “So…” Blaine prompted. They’d moved so they were sitting on the sofa; Blaine’s nose had stopped bleeding and there were two mugs of coffee on the table beside them. Blaine was sitting cross legged on the chair, facing Kurt who had his hands gripped into his hair; elbows rested on knees as he stared intently at the floor. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation for either of them, but it looked like Kurt was already tearing himself apart about it, which was beginning to worry Blaine.

“Before I start to explain,” Kurt almost whispered, making Blaine lean forwards slightly to ensure he heard every word. “I need you to know that this is still hard to talk about. I want to be honest, and tell you everything, but it still scares the living hell out of me, and I might not be able to articulate myself very well.”

“It’s fine, just please, let me in.”

“Okay, well it was the night of the fourth of December…”

                  Kurt’s phone lit up the room, chirping cheerily to indicate a text without any consideration for the sickeningly early time being displayed on the alarm clock. Blearily Kurt reached over to grab it, taking care not to wake Blaine, who was sleeping peacefully next to him, thumb tucked neatly between two perfect lips. Kurt smiled at how adorably young his boyfriend looked while he slept, all tension and stress removed from his face, leaving simply the handsome face of a boy on the brink of manhood. Despite their youth, and the distance Kurt had recently put between them by moving to New York, attending NYCDA (he was back home on Christmas break at the moment), Kurt was certain that Blaine was it for him; the one. After Blaine (and he hoped to God there would be no after Blaine) there would be no-one else for him. Next year the younger boy would move into his New York apartment, and they’d be together. Then after a little while of living together, Kurt would propose (it’d have to be him, because everyone else would expect Blaine to be the one to pop the question) and they’d be together. Then they’d live out the rest of their lives as Broadway and film and music stars, and they’d be together.

Kurt’s phone chirped again and he unlocked the screen to see two messages from an unknown number.

Hey Kurt, it’s David Karofsky. I know you hate me, but I need help and I don’t know who else to turn to. No-one else knows my secret. Please meet me at the bridge now; if you don’t come, I guess you’ll never see me again.

Please come. I really need help.

Kurt was out of bed in an instant, looking down at Blaine and wondering what to do. It only took about ten minutes to drive to the bridge overlooking the railway; he figured he’d be back before his boyfriend woke, so without another thought he practically ran out of the room, and down to his car.

          When he arrived at the bridge he couldn’t see anyone, despite the moon that had climbed into the centre of the sky, bathing everything in a silvery light.

“David.” He called out softly, not wanting to startle the other boy into doing anything rash. A movement off to his left caught his attention and he spun around, only to be met by something hard and blunt crashing into his face and sending him sprawling backwards onto the floor. The metallic taste of blood seeped into his mouth as he cursed himself for being an utter fool. Of course Karofsky hadn’t changed; he was a fool for thinking it even possible. And now no-one knew where he was, and he’d disappeared to a remote location in the middle of the night without leaving even a note. Can you spell the word imbecile?