𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐊. ➻ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
ʟɪɴᴋꜱ ↪ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴊᴏᴇ ᴋᴇᴇʀʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ
ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜱ ↪ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.7ᴋ ↪ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴋᴜʀᴛ ᴋᴜɴᴋʟᴇ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ↪ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴxɪᴇᴛʏ, ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀɪᴛʏ, ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D
ㅤㅤThe warm, sticky, and uncomfortable humidity that clung to Kurt's hands, brought on by nerves at the thought of attending that enormous party for which he felt neither mentally nor physically prepared, had made his movements clumsier as he dressed. Normally, he was ready to go anywhere in under ten minutes. He felt even worse at the thought of opening the bathroom door in his house, where he lived with his mother like every other teenager he knew, and finding you calmly sitting on the living room sofa in that beautiful dress you'd worn, embarrassingly, to pick him up that June night. He knew he'd find you just as calm and excited as when he'd opened the door upon your arrival.
ㅤㅤIt was the guy's job to drive his date to the prom; it was a tradition. Kurt had even overheard several of his classmates mentioning during class exchanges or while walking through the hallways that they had rented small limousines as a group to make the experience even more amazing and special. He found out about this when he started getting interested in going to the party after having planned to go with you, like in some typical '80s teen movie you both loved. But he couldn't afford something as expensive as a limousine and a driver to wait all night and take you wherever you wanted, nor could he pay for his driver's license and a car impressive enough to make the night unforgettable for you. In short, what could have been a wonderful vehicle that could have brought an even bigger smile to your face, he hadn't managed to get in time.
ㅤㅤTo his further embarrassment, even though he hadn't mentioned it to anyone but his parents because he knew anyone else would laugh at how absurd his situation was—though he had to endure his father's taunts about how unmanly he'd look in front of the other students for letting you take the lead—he found that you didn't mind driving him to the prom. You had your license, you'd driven your parents' car around town a bit, so you felt comfortable enough to take him along, and the route from his house to school was safe enough that absolutely nothing would happen to you on the way. Worst-case scenario, if you felt like drinking, you could walk home, and the car could be picked up the next day; you'd tied up any loose ends before assuring him that going to the prom and back would be safe for both of you.
ㅤㅤ“Kurt, honey, are you okay in there? We're waiting for you.”
ㅤㅤHis mother's voice, slightly shrill and intended to hurry him along so he wouldn't be late for the party, as she seemed to fear, suddenly snapped Kurt back to reality. His thoughts vanished as quickly as he could, and he realised he was staring at himself in the mirror above the sink, the one he'd been observing for several minutes.
ㅤㅤLooking a little longer at his reflection, he noticed the slightly dishevelled and unpleasant appearance he presented. He'd barely had time to comb his hair, and several strands were still damp after his shower. His hands, the same ones he'd complained about since he started getting dressed because of how clumsy they'd become, were now trying to straighten the collar of his white shirt, the one he wore under the dark blue and grey striped sweater his mother had bought him for the party, and which had been giving him so much trouble for the past fifteen minutes. And his dark pants, black he assumed they were, were still unbuttoned, and were starting to slip down until the waistband of his white underwear was beginning to peek out.
ㅤㅤFor a moment, he felt like the world was crashing down on him because this wasn't how he had imagined it.
ㅤㅤ"I'm not going..."
ㅤㅤKurt's whisper was a declaration driven by fear and nerves. He wasn't wearing a suit like your classmates probably would be, but that sweater he secretly liked so much, which at that moment had too many flaws to highlight anything pleasant about it. The collar, although loose, seemed to be squeezing him tightly, like a snake. And the whole outfit was too much for him, too Kurt, for you to feel comfortable with him as your partner.
ㅤㅤ"Did you say something, darling?"
ㅤㅤHis mother's voice was another harsh blow, another reminder of the anxiety that was slowly creeping up his body. He felt a heaviness starting in his heels, so that his bare feet seemed glued to the floor, which in turn began its upward climb up his calves and thighs to his torso, like a boa constrictor that was simultaneously hugging and squeezing his body, until it reached his head.
ㅤㅤInevitably, his torso slumped forward, and his hands gripped the sink tightly, trying to hold onto anything that could keep him upright because of the sudden trembling of his legs; it was as if the natural clumsiness of a newborn fawn had been transferred to him to the point where his vision seemed to blur.
ㅤㅤ"Tell her I'm not going!"
ㅤㅤThe sudden shout, the force with which Kurt's voice reached your ears, caused your attention to shift from one of his charming dogs to the narrow hallway leading to the teenager's bedroom and the bathroom where Kunkle had been getting ready for the past few minutes. That exclamation worried you, and although it was endearing to see the two dogs' heads turn toward the hallway Angela had disappeared into earlier, checking if her son needed any help, the sudden silence that enveloped the house worried you.
ㅤㅤYou had waited patiently for Kurt to emerge from the bathroom, eager to see how handsome he looked for the occasion, but the fact that he had announced at the last minute that he wasn't going, that he had no intention of attending the party, surprised you and broke your heart in equal measure.
ㅤㅤWithout thinking, adjusting the hem of your dress as you stood up from the old sofa, you headed towards the hallway, where you found Angela standing in front of the bathroom door, trying to talk to her son, clearly not getting the answer she was hoping for.
ㅤㅤ"What's wrong?" you asked in a low, calm tone to the boy's mother, hoping she would have an answer to your concern. "Is he alright?"
ㅤㅤAngela opened her mouth for a moment, searching for an excuse to calm you down; she couldn't tell you the truth. She definitely didn't want you to think anything bad about her son for not being able to go with you to the graduation party you had talked so much about and which you seemed so excited to attend. While you were waiting for Kurt, his mother had overheard you talking about how much you wanted to go out with him, how you'd even planned to take him to dinner under the guise of spending more time with him, and then you'd go to the party. But the way her son had expressed his desire not to go out, not to go with you, made her feel embarrassed, as she didn't have a good enough excuse to protect him from your potential reactions if you heard him say no again.
ㅤㅤ"He's feeling unwell, honey," the woman replied, looking at you with a strained smile that you deciphered in seconds. It was clear that Kurt's inability to lie stemmed precisely from his mother. "He says he's not going, I'm sorry."
ㅤㅤHer last words completely threw you off, causing you to tilt your head in confusion before your eyes redirected toward the white bathroom door. There was only a barrier separating you, and yet you could feel the desperation emanating from within him.
ㅤㅤ"Kurt," you called, ignoring the adult's words, facing the wooden barrier between you, placing your hand on the door before giving him a couple of soft knocks to get his attention. "Don't leave me out of this; tell me what's wrong."
ㅤㅤThe truth was, Kurt had no words to express himself. He felt suffocated, desperate to speak, but the pressure around his throat prevented him. Tears flooded his eyes; his legs trembled constantly even though he had managed to sit on the toilet seat.
ㅤㅤYou only heard a gasp, a soft one, and that was enough to make you act.
ㅤㅤEven though Angela had tried to stop you by placing her hand on your shoulder, knowing it was best not to put any more pressure on her son when he was going through such a difficult time, your hand quickly found the bathroom doorknob and opened it. Turning it slowly, you found yourself with a sight just large enough to peek your head through, and were met with a sight that left you speechless.
ㅤㅤAlthough the bathroom was tidy, seeing Kurt sitting on the toilet, his torso slightly bent forward as he held his head in his hands, shattered your heart. Trembling, slightly panting, and desperate to find some peace in that small room, Kurt was trapped in his own thoughts, trying to escape the loop you hadn't even understood him being trapped in.
ㅤㅤ"You should leave him alone. He'll calm down."
ㅤㅤIt wasn't Angela's negligence that surprised you and made you enter the bathroom, but rather how she herself was going to allow her only son to overcome that episode of anxiety alone.
ㅤㅤThe sound of your heels on the tiled floor slowly brought Kurt back to the present. Slowly raising his head, still hiding behind his hands, he noticed the blurry blue figure that was you, beautifully dressed from head to toe in the wonderful dress you had bought for that evening. Your face, which had been cheerful when he opened the door to his house, was now etched with an expression of sadness and concern for him. He had never seen anyone look at him that way, share their emotions, and express so much in a single glance.
ㅤㅤ"Hey..." you murmured softly after standing in front of him, carefully bending down so as not to wrinkle your dress too much until you were kneeling before him. You placed one of your hands on one of his cuffs, giving it a gentle squeeze. "What's wrong?"
ㅤㅤKurt sniffed in response, and although for a moment he considered wiping his nose with his shirt sleeve, as he had a bad habit of doing with any sweater, he quickly noticed a piece of toilet paper from the bathroom appear in his field of vision, offered by you as a comfort. He took it with one of his slightly trembling hands, carefully wiped away his tears, and then blew his nose. That image—of a broken Kurt, who had always been so open and talkative with the world around him—was a tremendous shock.
ㅤㅤSomehow, that made you see how he probably didn't express all the suffering he'd been holding inside to anyone else, but rather waited until it became too much to make him explode, and then allowed himself to completely fall apart.
ㅤㅤ"I don't want to..." he murmured haltingly, lowering his head again to avoid your eyes, "I don't want to go."
ㅤㅤ"You don't want to go to the party?" you asked calmly, keeping your gaze on him, giving his calf another gentle squeeze. He just shrugged. "It's something else that's bothering you; it's not just the party."
ㅤㅤ"It shouldn't have been like this," he finally said with a sigh, as if he'd dropped a huge bombshell that could change everything.
ㅤㅤ"What shouldn't have been like this?"
ㅤㅤFor the first time, you saw Kurt's eyes. Those dark orbs, always so full of life, now held shame.
ㅤㅤ"Everything," he said, gesturing with his hand that emphasised his words. "You shouldn't be here. You should be at home, and I should have been the one to pick you up," he began, sniffing again. "And I should have picked you up in a big car or a limo, but I didn't have the money. And you're the one who came to pick me up. That shouldn't have happened," he emphasised, as if repeating himself made it more meaningful. "And this ugly sweater makes me look stupid. I should have a suit, but I thought it was a better idea to buy... this."
ㅤㅤThe contempt with which he looked at the garment made your head snap down at the floor, where it lay crumpled and half-turned. It was obvious he'd put it on, and, overcome by the sudden nerves that had gripped him due to self-imposed expectations he hadn't met, he'd decided it was best to use it as his personal punching bag.
ㅤㅤOf course, you understood Kurt's need to have been the one to take the lead during the whole prom invitation process, as any other guy would, but his limited resources hadn't allowed it. That didn't diminish your respect for him, though.
ㅤㅤ"Well, 'that,' as you call it, is perfect," you remarked with a small smile as you picked up the garment to right it, standing up to make it easier. "Besides, look, the blue stripes match the colour of my dress. I didn't know you were a mind reader."
ㅤㅤThat observation made Kurt look up at you to see that, indeed, the colours were the same or very similar.
ㅤㅤ“Wait a second, is that a smile?”
ㅤㅤYour question made the brunette realise it was. In fact, with a simple comment, his smile had returned to his face.
ㅤㅤ“Oh, well, it's just that...”
ㅤㅤHis sudden shyness, which still made his voice sound a little choked with nerves, brought a smile to your face as well. You had understood without needing any more words, and that connection between you didn't require anything more for you to understand each other.
ㅤㅤ“I don't care if you're not wearing a suit, Kurt,” you said, gently caressing the fabric of the sweater before handing it to him. “I just want to spend a good night with you. And, well, if you don't feel like going to the party, we can make other plans.”
ㅤㅤKurt stopped listening to you for a moment. The fact that you didn't care about the party enough to try and find something to suit his taste, the fact that you liked his sweater and had even made him smile, was enough for him.
ㅤㅤWithout thinking, Kurt took the garment in his hands and, before putting it back on, wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your stomach and pressing you together. A small smile spread across your face, and you returned the embrace.
ㅤㅤThat would definitely be the best part of the night.
