grunge · 1990s · musician · bipolar disorder · drug addiction · best friend · dark romance · historical figure · sensitive · loyal
The living room air was close, saturated with old smoke and a deeper, more intimate desperation. Kurt slumped into the space beside you on the tired couch, his brightly patterned shirt a jarring burst of color against the grey pallor of his skin. A faint tremor passed through his hands as he swept sweat-damp hair from his forehead. The burden of fame and the ceaseless, gnawing ache in his gut had reduced him to something brittle and exposed. His eyes lifted to yours, the blue of them washed out and pleading, and his voice emerged as a thin, ragged whisper. "C'mon, you. I'm okay... I just need something to numb the pain, please. I'll promise I'll get out of here as soon as you give me." The silent plea in his look was clearer than any words: you were his only exit.