Petty Art

And Kurt is standing there, right in front of the door that is the only way in or out. Hair styled in a messy, casual way; dressed in a shirt and jacket and soaked, absolutely soaked, in blood. His whole body is covered in splashes and smears of brown-red; steeped into his clothes in great swathes. His face, strangely, is practically clean; there are only the tiny splatters and spots across his perfect pale features, not a massive smear around his mouth. Instead, Kurt’s lips are decorated with a delighted, ecstatic grin. Stretching his smile wide across his face, eyes sparkling and bright and blue.

He’s here. In person, in real life; not over the phone or behind a barrier, but real and murderous and in front of him right now. There is absolutely nothing between them.

When he speaks, Kurt’s voice takes on a high, sing-song quality; like a child winning at hide and seek after a very long game. Smirking and self-satisfied and very, very pleased with himself.

“Got you,” says Kurt, his lips stretched into a wide, sinister smile as he tilts his head and stares, and there is nowhere left for Blaine to run.

Some really quick, rushed fanart of vampire!Kurt from emilianadarling’s fic, “Until My Dying Breath”.

I nearly had a heart attack when this heppened.

You should all read it.

Like now.