Fic: Dresden Hollows 7/7
Epilogue. Two Years Later.
Kurt is late. Blaine takes another look at his wristwatch and sips his coffee, studying the old brick building he's been waiting in front of for the past fifteen minutes. The online photos of the apartment inside had been amazing. He's only hoping the place lives up to his and Kurt's expectations.
It feels as though he and Kurt have gone to look at a hundred apartments all over the city over the last few weeks. He's tired, but mostly just anxious to move things along. He wants to be living with Kurt yesterday.
The realtor arrives just as Blaine is finishing off his coffee, and Kurt rounds the corner while Blaine is greeting her. “Work,” he mouths at Blaine with a roll of his eyes, and reaches out a hand, fingers fluttering in the air, asking wordlessly for Blaine to clasp them. He does of course, with pleasure, and they follow the realtor into the building.
“This is an old building,” she's saying, which they already know. They had researched it in a fit of excitement after finding the listing two days before. “Built just after the First World War. It's been renovated, keeping with the aesthetic of its time. It's very lovely and spacious, but there may be some slight issues that you would not come across in a newer building.”
Blaine sees Kurt nod along with the realtor and smiles. They will deal with draughtiness and clunky radiators and sketchy air conditioning in exchange for high ceilings and cathedral windows and gently restored, original woodworking and undeniable charm.
Which, as the realtor unlocks the door and motions them inside, Blaine sees that the place has in abundance.
Kurt gasps next to him and Blaine can't hold in his grin. Kurt loves beautiful things, and Blaine loves Kurt. Which, he supposes, means that he also loves beautiful things.
The kitchen is a little small, but the cabinets are a lovely dark wood and the appliances have been upgraded. The tininess of the kitchen is soon forgotten, for the living area more than makes up for it.
The floor drops down one step, the room sunken, making the ceilings that much higher. Blaine estimates that they've got to be at least ten feet high. There is so much light in the room, the windows large and ornate, the many delicate panes of glass glimmering with the late afternoon sun and shining on the intricate mouldings and polished wood floor.
Blaine is desperate to get a look at the view from those gorgeous windows, but he holds in his excitement and follows Kurt and the realtor down the short hallway to look at the other rooms.
The bathroom is easily the least interesting room in the apartment. It's small and hasn't been as recently renovated, but Blaine is pleased to see the old fashioned claw-footed bathtub with a shower attachment and curtain enclosure.
We can always change the hardware on the vanity to spruce it up, Blaine thinks, just as Kurt turns and whispers the very same thing in his ear.
The second bedroom is tiny, but the perfect size for a desk for their computers and table for Kurt's sewing machine. The master bedroom is a fair size and both Blaine and Kurt are pleased to find that it has a decently sized closet. The floor and mouldings and doors are all restored originals, and even the colour palette harkens back to the post-war era. All in all, the space is simply lovely.
They go back out to the living area and discuss the price with the realtor. It's a little bit more than they wanted to pay every month, but they will cut corners if they need to in order to live here. The realtor tells them she can negotiate the price with the super a little bit and heads off in search of her, leaving Blaine and Kurt alone.
Kurt is opening all of the kitchen cabinets for a peek inside and Blaine grabs him by both hands and pulls him away to get a look at the view from the living room windows.
He watches as Kurt starts framing things with his hands, the way Artie does when he's envisioning a perfect shot for a film. “Can't you just see it, honey?” Kurt asks. “How it will look with our furniture and accoutrements? We can have dinner parties and, oh, maybe even host Thanksgiving this year!” He bounces a little and his enthusiasm is catching, because Blaine finds himself with quite the bounce in his step when he takes the last few over to the windows.
It isn't a waterfront view or anything like that, but after spending the past four years staring out into a dirty alleyway, it looks like the most perfect heaven to Blaine. He and Kurt ooh and ahh, pointing out landmarks they recognize and the birds that are nesting in the eaves of the building opposite. They startle when they hear a throat clearing behind them.
There is a very small man standing there looking cross, and Blaine's first instinct is to pull his hand away from Kurt's. He has to force himself to keep it there, secure in Kurt's hold. This man can't do anything to them. He probably doesn't even want to. It's so ingrained in Blaine to be selective with his signs of affection when in public spaces that it takes a lot to overpower his instinct.
“Are you thinking about taking this unit?” the man asks, tapping one foot. Blaine had expected to find his voice high pitched, for he is extremely small and elfin, but it comes out in a deep boom and he feels his eyes widen and Kurt stiffen in surprise next to him.
“Yes we are,” Kurt answers. “We're quite taken with the place.”
The man nods almost mournfully, the cross look on his face all but disappearing. “Of course you are,” he says. “Of course.” He shakes his head once and turns as if he's about to leave, but he only faces in the direction of the hallway and stands silently with his hands on his hips for a few seconds. Then he says, “I've lived in this building since nineteen eighty-three.”
Blaine attempts the smooth the confusion from his expression and nods at the man, trying to convey interest rather than the bewilderment he actually feels.
“I know this unit is very nice. I've been tempted to move over here myself a few of the many, many times it has been vacant over the years. But I couldn't make myself.”
“Too attached to your own place?” Kurt ventures to guess after the man has gone silent once more.
The man turns his beady-eyed stare on Kurt and shakes his head. “Not at all. Just couldn't justify putting up with a damn poltergeist for more space and a nicer view,” he says.
“Poltergeist?” Kurt's voice is high and shaky.
“Oh yes. Moves the dishes. Rattles the windows. Turns on your music. Never tries to hurt no one, though. She's been over here for decades. Wife of a navy serviceman who died off the coast of Japan during the Second World War.”
Blaine grips Kurt's shaking hand more tightly and tries to think rationally. Perhaps this man has decided after all these years that he does want the space and the view and is trying to scare them off. “The realtor never said anything about a ghost.”
The man scoffs. “Of course not! You think someone trying to let the place is gonna tell the people wanting to let it that it's haunted? They'll tell you whatever they have to to make you take the place and then they take their commission and go back to their own homes. Poltergeist free, I'm sure.”
“But, um...” Kurt speaks up. Blaine can feel him standing straighter next to him. “I've been researching this building and I didn't come across anything about a haunting.”
“Not on the official books of course. But you can search up the stories of Friendly Margaret. You'll find them sure enough.”
Blaine looks over at Kurt when he feels eyes on him. He looks so disappointed that it makes Blaine want to kiss him until he feels better. He'd been waiting, Blaine realizes, waiting for there to be something wrong with the place. It was too perfect, exactly what they both wanted for their first home together.
“Like I said,” the man continues, “she won't hurt you or anything. They call her Friendly Margaret because she's not malevolent. I've heard tell of her finding things for you that you've lost and everything. Just wanted to give you forewarning in case the spooky stuff gives you a bad fright.”
Blaine nods at the man. “Well, thank you for the information Mr....”
“Frank,” he says. “Just Frank. I'm across the hall if you decide to take the place. Sometimes I play the ole squeezebox, but if I get too noisy, just come rap on my door and I'll knock it off.”
They nod their thanks again and watch as Frank walks across the floor and out the door, letting it fall closed with a bang behind him.
Blaine hears Kurt let out one long breath next to him and he turns so they are face to face. He can't quite read Kurt's look. It's no longer one of disappointment, but something else. Resignation maybe? Or acceptance?
Kurt reaches out and takes both of Blaine's hands in his and plays with his fingers, swinging their clasped hands loosely through the air between them.
He's glancing back and forth between Blaine's face and the satchel which he's still got slung across his body. Inside is the rental agreement and all of the papers that the realtor had emailed over to them the day before. They had already filled them out, sure that this place was it. The one. But was it still?
Kurt heaves a sigh and shrugs his shoulders, dropping one of Blaine's hands and cupping his newly freed one around his mouth. “Are you there, Friendly Margaret?” he bellows into the empty space around them. “And how do you feel about roommates?”
Blaine chuckles and leans forward to land a peck on Kurt's cheek. “High ceilings, period mouldings, perfectly restored hardwood, and a poltergeist?” he asks.
Kurt sighs again, but there is an edge of humour to the sound. “Maybe she's fun at parties,” he says with a shrug, and gives Blaine a tug in the direction of the hall. “Now, we definitely need to sort out the closet situation before moving in. That's high on the priority list. We do not want to be arguing about sides of the closet on moving day.”
“Of course,” Blaine agrees with mock solemnity and follows Kurt to the master bedroom.
He thinks he sees something move out of the corner of his eye as they pass the smaller of the bedrooms, but he ignores it. As long as Friendly Margaret keeps to her own room, he thinks they'll be okay.
Kurt glances over at Blaine and shakes his head. “I didn't see it either,” he says.
previous
Kurt is late. Blaine takes another look at his wristwatch and sips his coffee, studying the old brick building he's been waiting in front of for the past fifteen minutes. The online photos of the apartment inside had been amazing. He's only hoping the place lives up to his and Kurt's expectations.
It feels as though he and Kurt have gone to look at a hundred apartments all over the city over the last few weeks. He's tired, but mostly just anxious to move things along. He wants to be living with Kurt yesterday.
The realtor arrives just as Blaine is finishing off his coffee, and Kurt rounds the corner while Blaine is greeting her. “Work,” he mouths at Blaine with a roll of his eyes, and reaches out a hand, fingers fluttering in the air, asking wordlessly for Blaine to clasp them. He does of course, with pleasure, and they follow the realtor into the building.
“This is an old building,” she's saying, which they already know. They had researched it in a fit of excitement after finding the listing two days before. “Built just after the First World War. It's been renovated, keeping with the aesthetic of its time. It's very lovely and spacious, but there may be some slight issues that you would not come across in a newer building.”
Blaine sees Kurt nod along with the realtor and smiles. They will deal with draughtiness and clunky radiators and sketchy air conditioning in exchange for high ceilings and cathedral windows and gently restored, original woodworking and undeniable charm.
Which, as the realtor unlocks the door and motions them inside, Blaine sees that the place has in abundance.
Kurt gasps next to him and Blaine can't hold in his grin. Kurt loves beautiful things, and Blaine loves Kurt. Which, he supposes, means that he also loves beautiful things.
The kitchen is a little small, but the cabinets are a lovely dark wood and the appliances have been upgraded. The tininess of the kitchen is soon forgotten, for the living area more than makes up for it.
The floor drops down one step, the room sunken, making the ceilings that much higher. Blaine estimates that they've got to be at least ten feet high. There is so much light in the room, the windows large and ornate, the many delicate panes of glass glimmering with the late afternoon sun and shining on the intricate mouldings and polished wood floor.
Blaine is desperate to get a look at the view from those gorgeous windows, but he holds in his excitement and follows Kurt and the realtor down the short hallway to look at the other rooms.
The bathroom is easily the least interesting room in the apartment. It's small and hasn't been as recently renovated, but Blaine is pleased to see the old fashioned claw-footed bathtub with a shower attachment and curtain enclosure.
We can always change the hardware on the vanity to spruce it up, Blaine thinks, just as Kurt turns and whispers the very same thing in his ear.
The second bedroom is tiny, but the perfect size for a desk for their computers and table for Kurt's sewing machine. The master bedroom is a fair size and both Blaine and Kurt are pleased to find that it has a decently sized closet. The floor and mouldings and doors are all restored originals, and even the colour palette harkens back to the post-war era. All in all, the space is simply lovely.
They go back out to the living area and discuss the price with the realtor. It's a little bit more than they wanted to pay every month, but they will cut corners if they need to in order to live here. The realtor tells them she can negotiate the price with the super a little bit and heads off in search of her, leaving Blaine and Kurt alone.
Kurt is opening all of the kitchen cabinets for a peek inside and Blaine grabs him by both hands and pulls him away to get a look at the view from the living room windows.
He watches as Kurt starts framing things with his hands, the way Artie does when he's envisioning a perfect shot for a film. “Can't you just see it, honey?” Kurt asks. “How it will look with our furniture and accoutrements? We can have dinner parties and, oh, maybe even host Thanksgiving this year!” He bounces a little and his enthusiasm is catching, because Blaine finds himself with quite the bounce in his step when he takes the last few over to the windows.
It isn't a waterfront view or anything like that, but after spending the past four years staring out into a dirty alleyway, it looks like the most perfect heaven to Blaine. He and Kurt ooh and ahh, pointing out landmarks they recognize and the birds that are nesting in the eaves of the building opposite. They startle when they hear a throat clearing behind them.
There is a very small man standing there looking cross, and Blaine's first instinct is to pull his hand away from Kurt's. He has to force himself to keep it there, secure in Kurt's hold. This man can't do anything to them. He probably doesn't even want to. It's so ingrained in Blaine to be selective with his signs of affection when in public spaces that it takes a lot to overpower his instinct.
“Are you thinking about taking this unit?” the man asks, tapping one foot. Blaine had expected to find his voice high pitched, for he is extremely small and elfin, but it comes out in a deep boom and he feels his eyes widen and Kurt stiffen in surprise next to him.
“Yes we are,” Kurt answers. “We're quite taken with the place.”
The man nods almost mournfully, the cross look on his face all but disappearing. “Of course you are,” he says. “Of course.” He shakes his head once and turns as if he's about to leave, but he only faces in the direction of the hallway and stands silently with his hands on his hips for a few seconds. Then he says, “I've lived in this building since nineteen eighty-three.”
Blaine attempts the smooth the confusion from his expression and nods at the man, trying to convey interest rather than the bewilderment he actually feels.
“I know this unit is very nice. I've been tempted to move over here myself a few of the many, many times it has been vacant over the years. But I couldn't make myself.”
“Too attached to your own place?” Kurt ventures to guess after the man has gone silent once more.
The man turns his beady-eyed stare on Kurt and shakes his head. “Not at all. Just couldn't justify putting up with a damn poltergeist for more space and a nicer view,” he says.
“Poltergeist?” Kurt's voice is high and shaky.
“Oh yes. Moves the dishes. Rattles the windows. Turns on your music. Never tries to hurt no one, though. She's been over here for decades. Wife of a navy serviceman who died off the coast of Japan during the Second World War.”
Blaine grips Kurt's shaking hand more tightly and tries to think rationally. Perhaps this man has decided after all these years that he does want the space and the view and is trying to scare them off. “The realtor never said anything about a ghost.”
The man scoffs. “Of course not! You think someone trying to let the place is gonna tell the people wanting to let it that it's haunted? They'll tell you whatever they have to to make you take the place and then they take their commission and go back to their own homes. Poltergeist free, I'm sure.”
“But, um...” Kurt speaks up. Blaine can feel him standing straighter next to him. “I've been researching this building and I didn't come across anything about a haunting.”
“Not on the official books of course. But you can search up the stories of Friendly Margaret. You'll find them sure enough.”
Blaine looks over at Kurt when he feels eyes on him. He looks so disappointed that it makes Blaine want to kiss him until he feels better. He'd been waiting, Blaine realizes, waiting for there to be something wrong with the place. It was too perfect, exactly what they both wanted for their first home together.
“Like I said,” the man continues, “she won't hurt you or anything. They call her Friendly Margaret because she's not malevolent. I've heard tell of her finding things for you that you've lost and everything. Just wanted to give you forewarning in case the spooky stuff gives you a bad fright.”
Blaine nods at the man. “Well, thank you for the information Mr....”
“Frank,” he says. “Just Frank. I'm across the hall if you decide to take the place. Sometimes I play the ole squeezebox, but if I get too noisy, just come rap on my door and I'll knock it off.”
They nod their thanks again and watch as Frank walks across the floor and out the door, letting it fall closed with a bang behind him.
Blaine hears Kurt let out one long breath next to him and he turns so they are face to face. He can't quite read Kurt's look. It's no longer one of disappointment, but something else. Resignation maybe? Or acceptance?
Kurt reaches out and takes both of Blaine's hands in his and plays with his fingers, swinging their clasped hands loosely through the air between them.
He's glancing back and forth between Blaine's face and the satchel which he's still got slung across his body. Inside is the rental agreement and all of the papers that the realtor had emailed over to them the day before. They had already filled them out, sure that this place was it. The one. But was it still?
Kurt heaves a sigh and shrugs his shoulders, dropping one of Blaine's hands and cupping his newly freed one around his mouth. “Are you there, Friendly Margaret?” he bellows into the empty space around them. “And how do you feel about roommates?”
Blaine chuckles and leans forward to land a peck on Kurt's cheek. “High ceilings, period mouldings, perfectly restored hardwood, and a poltergeist?” he asks.
Kurt sighs again, but there is an edge of humour to the sound. “Maybe she's fun at parties,” he says with a shrug, and gives Blaine a tug in the direction of the hall. “Now, we definitely need to sort out the closet situation before moving in. That's high on the priority list. We do not want to be arguing about sides of the closet on moving day.”
“Of course,” Blaine agrees with mock solemnity and follows Kurt to the master bedroom.
He thinks he sees something move out of the corner of his eye as they pass the smaller of the bedrooms, but he ignores it. As long as Friendly Margaret keeps to her own room, he thinks they'll be okay.
Kurt glances over at Blaine and shakes his head. “I didn't see it either,” he says.
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