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rockstarwarblerWho: Just Blaine
What: Picking up the shattered pieces... again
Where: Puck and Blaine's apartment, New York City
When: Last week of summer
Blaine stiffly and weakly reached up to flick the light switch by the door of his bedroom and the room fell into darkness. The only light coming from the crack under the close door of the lamp switched on in the apartment hallway and through his blinds from the streetlights outside. He kept telling himself he needed to get thicker drapes, but always just forgot to get around to it. As it was, his bedroom was a mismatch of elements with absolutely no interior decorating skills at all. The duvet didn't match the curtains and the carpet wasn't complimentary to the furniture. It was Blaine's little sanctuary, though, and filled with things from his past and present life. Normally he enjoyed the hotchpotch bachelor-esque feel of his room, but tonight, he just needed to get into bed and not move. It didn't matter what his surroundings were, he just needed to be still and rest in hopes everything would stop aching painfully.
Puck had insisted on the hall light being left on in case Blaine needed anything. Blaine didn't even have the energy to protest it. He had just hobbled his way into the apartment, shoulders slumped and head hanging low, answering any enquiries of whether he needed anything or wanted anything with monotone single answers in the negative. He didn't even kiss his boyfriend goodnight, and the proffered hand of support taking his in the elevator had been shrugged off so Blaine could huddle against the wall on his own. He didn't want to be touched. Everything hurt too much for that. The flight back from Miami hadn't been that long, but it felt like days on end to Blaine who had been in pain for duration, despite the painkillers he was dosed up on. He earned a lot of looks, he knew, but he couldn't even care about that. He just wanted to curl up in his own little nest, be alone, and try to pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.
( It was a cruise gone wrong... )
What: Picking up the shattered pieces... again
Where: Puck and Blaine's apartment, New York City
When: Last week of summer
Blaine stiffly and weakly reached up to flick the light switch by the door of his bedroom and the room fell into darkness. The only light coming from the crack under the close door of the lamp switched on in the apartment hallway and through his blinds from the streetlights outside. He kept telling himself he needed to get thicker drapes, but always just forgot to get around to it. As it was, his bedroom was a mismatch of elements with absolutely no interior decorating skills at all. The duvet didn't match the curtains and the carpet wasn't complimentary to the furniture. It was Blaine's little sanctuary, though, and filled with things from his past and present life. Normally he enjoyed the hotchpotch bachelor-esque feel of his room, but tonight, he just needed to get into bed and not move. It didn't matter what his surroundings were, he just needed to be still and rest in hopes everything would stop aching painfully.
Puck had insisted on the hall light being left on in case Blaine needed anything. Blaine didn't even have the energy to protest it. He had just hobbled his way into the apartment, shoulders slumped and head hanging low, answering any enquiries of whether he needed anything or wanted anything with monotone single answers in the negative. He didn't even kiss his boyfriend goodnight, and the proffered hand of support taking his in the elevator had been shrugged off so Blaine could huddle against the wall on his own. He didn't want to be touched. Everything hurt too much for that. The flight back from Miami hadn't been that long, but it felt like days on end to Blaine who had been in pain for duration, despite the painkillers he was dosed up on. He earned a lot of looks, he knew, but he couldn't even care about that. He just wanted to curl up in his own little nest, be alone, and try to pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.
( It was a cruise gone wrong... )
