Kurt Hummel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
showbizpanache) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-07-16 11:44 pm
showbizpanache) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-07-16 11:44 pm
Entry tags:
Thunder rumbling, castles crumbling, I am trying to hold on
Who: The Klaine in Spain stays mainly in the plain
When: Early Tuesday morning.
Where: Their little section of the apartment.
Summary: Blaine's been watching Kurt try to fix things for everyone else, and realizes Kurt hasn't been fixing himself.
Warnings: Mentions of eating disorder-ish behavior, panic/anxiety and gross Newcomer Hunt things.
Kurt barely had any concept of time anymore. Without a second's chance to look at the clock, he told time by events in his day--waking up at the crack of dawn to work at the garage, ripping off his coveralls to go straight to the Community Center for his shift, then heading straight to Felton for rehearsal... His world buzzed with appointments and meetings and obligations, and all the while he fought with any lingering energy he had left to get justice for those hunted just weeks ago--struggling to communicate via the NV, planning fundraisers, fighting with the press...
It was easy enough to shelve his stress and anxiety--keeping busy was what kept him going, after all. Despite this, nothing had changed.
He was still waking up in the middle of the night, still piling on layer after layer despite the growing summer heat, still running to the bathroom in the middle of his work day to throw up. Food had become something heavy weighing him down, making him sick, and he never felt hungry anymore--or maybe he did, and his nerves were stretched too thin to notice. Regardless, skipping meals was easy; he barely had time to eat anyway. Instead he filled his belly with coffee, pumping his veins with energy to get through each day.
He could hide it, hide it all and press on, because none of this was about him. He loved the spotlight when he was on stage, but in life he wanted nothing to do with it. It was better to be a force of energy, to act act act, and never slow down enough to examine what was wrong with himself. It was easy enough. No one had been asking him any questions.
Except for Blaine.
Just like the day before, Kurt had ripped a bagel in half and threw one part away, making it look as though he'd eaten it. Sitting at the table, he ran over his schedule, not looking up when he heard Blaine enter the kitchen.
"Good morning," he said softly.
When: Early Tuesday morning.
Where: Their little section of the apartment.
Summary: Blaine's been watching Kurt try to fix things for everyone else, and realizes Kurt hasn't been fixing himself.
Warnings: Mentions of eating disorder-ish behavior, panic/anxiety and gross Newcomer Hunt things.
Kurt barely had any concept of time anymore. Without a second's chance to look at the clock, he told time by events in his day--waking up at the crack of dawn to work at the garage, ripping off his coveralls to go straight to the Community Center for his shift, then heading straight to Felton for rehearsal... His world buzzed with appointments and meetings and obligations, and all the while he fought with any lingering energy he had left to get justice for those hunted just weeks ago--struggling to communicate via the NV, planning fundraisers, fighting with the press...
It was easy enough to shelve his stress and anxiety--keeping busy was what kept him going, after all. Despite this, nothing had changed.
He was still waking up in the middle of the night, still piling on layer after layer despite the growing summer heat, still running to the bathroom in the middle of his work day to throw up. Food had become something heavy weighing him down, making him sick, and he never felt hungry anymore--or maybe he did, and his nerves were stretched too thin to notice. Regardless, skipping meals was easy; he barely had time to eat anyway. Instead he filled his belly with coffee, pumping his veins with energy to get through each day.
He could hide it, hide it all and press on, because none of this was about him. He loved the spotlight when he was on stage, but in life he wanted nothing to do with it. It was better to be a force of energy, to act act act, and never slow down enough to examine what was wrong with himself. It was easy enough. No one had been asking him any questions.
Except for Blaine.
Just like the day before, Kurt had ripped a bagel in half and threw one part away, making it look as though he'd eaten it. Sitting at the table, he ran over his schedule, not looking up when he heard Blaine enter the kitchen.
"Good morning," he said softly.
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"However, I am still going to try to take care of you. I love you more than anything else in this or any other world. We'll look out for each other, okay?"
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"I don't know how to fix this, though," he added softly. "I'm sorry."
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He offered a little smile. "Why, do you have plans?"
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