Kurt’s voice in his ear is warm and evens out all of the jagged edges on Blaine’s insides. “I’m back early from Callbacks and wanted to make sure to respond to you before it got too late. Care to explain this text?” Ah. Right. About an hour ago, when Marley was in even more of a tailspin about Jake than she was about Mr. Schue, Blaine had given in to his own niggling insecurity and typed and sent ‘Are you sure you don’t mind I’m a Katy?’ before he’d really thought about it. He felt dumb about three seconds later: Kurt was no Jake Puckerman, plus Kurt was his fiance, plus the longer he thought about it the dumber this whole week’s assignment seemed.
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