it was 1992, you guys were on tour, currently in tokyo, japan.

when you joined nirvana in 1990, along with dave, kurt had always pretended to hate you, because if your looks. you were pretty girly and sweet, when he was all grunge and grumpy. because of your indifference, he would pretend that he didn’t like you; though he was yearning for you like there was no tomorrow.

the two of you had frequent discussions, he made a lot of comments about you, for some reason he just kept doing it, so once you started standing up for yourself, it’d start an argument. — when the next one came, the four of you were sharing a hotel room, with two beds. kurt had started a mishap because of an outfit you were wearing, told you it was too provocative.

though it was nothing like him, and the feminist he always proclaimed to be. he genuinely wasn’t like that, he just said it because he knew what guys thought of; he was once himself after all. he was just terrified of someone being able to look under your skirt for example, or for someone to be able to see your bra strap, you were the groups little angel, he wanted to protect you from this fucked up world.

after the screaming match you two had, he went to the hotel balcony for a smoke, while you stayed inside and decided to take a nap on your shared bed. when you woke up about an hour later, kurt was laying with his head on your shoulder, laying under a seperate blanket from yours.