accusation. restless. snowflake. haze. flame. formal. companion. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. wind. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. sunset. mad. thousand. outside. winter. diamond. letters. promise. simple. future.
While the Sadie Hawkins dance is nowhere near as fancy as prom, it’s still a pretty big deal. Sam pulls out his dad’s old tux (thankfully, it isn’t powder blue, like all those cheesy 80s movies), and Blaine rents one, freshly pressed. They agree to meet at the dance, and Blaine, ever punctual, arrives first. He smiles at his friends as they arrive with their dates, waving and grinning, sending them a thumbs up in approval. Then, the Evans minivan pulls up in front of the gym. His heart pounds and he can’t help but smile widely. He tried to make the whole thing very formal. He had written out a whole speech, editing and rewriting and scratching things out, until he ripped the paper up, starting from scratch. When Sam came home after school to find Blaine sitting on his front porch with a guitar across his lap, the blonde had just grinned.
“Dude, if you’re asking me to Sadie Hawkins, the answer is yes. Unless you came over to jam, in which case, the answer is also yes, and forget what I said about Sadie Hawkins.”
Blaine smiles at the thought now, the grin growing when Sam steps out of the van. His hair is dark, tousled like those days where he shows up to school late with sleep still heavy in his voice, and he pushes it out of his face to search for Blaine. Blaine waves to catch his attention, and Sam’s face lights up when he smiles. Blaine is starting to really like that smile.
“Hey,” Sam greets, suddenly nervous.
“Hi,” Blaine replies, grinning shyly.
Then Sam is doing one of his ridiculous impressions and Blaine is laughing, and in the midst of their chuckles their hands meet. Neither of them pull away, and as their fingers intertwine, there’s a shift of energy, a softening of smiles, and a crackle of electricity. Neither of them notice the group of boys glaring at them, nor do they know what’s coming. But for the moment, it doesn’t matter. They’re holding hands, the night is young, and so are they.