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Truth be told, nothing feels the same. Even though every single memory has been filed back in place, even though the island seems to be quickly licking its wounds and letting the sand wash over them with the rise of the tide, nothing feels quite the same to Kurt, and he's not sure what there is to do about that. For all the crazy things that the island's done in the past, displacing people and places, it's never before so wholly removed parts of their person. At least, not to Kurt's knowledge. And even with everything now back in place, the prospect that it may happen again is nothing short of terrifying.
Kurt never wants to forget who he is. He never wants to forget where he's been, what he's done, the people in his life who make it as colorful as it is. He still hasn't climbed back from the shock of seeing someone he cares for so much forget him in full, and it results in a slightly glazed look to Kurt's eye as he wanders about the island. There are friendships to mend, courses to catch up on, time to be made up for, and he just doesn't quite know where to start.
He does, however, still manage to get to the kitchen on time for his regular Sunday shift, keeping himself busy until the largest influx of people has died down, at which point he seats himself at the kitchen table and picks at his omelette.
Kurt never wants to forget who he is. He never wants to forget where he's been, what he's done, the people in his life who make it as colorful as it is. He still hasn't climbed back from the shock of seeing someone he cares for so much forget him in full, and it results in a slightly glazed look to Kurt's eye as he wanders about the island. There are friendships to mend, courses to catch up on, time to be made up for, and he just doesn't quite know where to start.
He does, however, still manage to get to the kitchen on time for his regular Sunday shift, keeping himself busy until the largest influx of people has died down, at which point he seats himself at the kitchen table and picks at his omelette.