September 2012
McKinley High
Lima, Ohio

“I’m just saying that the role of Nathan seems to comfortably fit my range more than Rory's.  He’d make a far better Sky.”

“As the director of this production, I’m going to have to politely disagree with that statement.” Artie rolls up next to Blaine, the right wheel of his chair bumping against the lockers with a slight clang.  He pushes his glasses up to the bridge of his nose with an index finger. “Forgive me for saying so, but I think you’re confusing the movie production with the stage production.  Your voice was made for ‘My Time of Day’.  Rory isn’t up to the task of playing Sky Masterson at this point in time.  You,” Artie pauses and squints up at Blaine as if choosing his words carefully, “exude a metrosexual charm the same way that Sky should.  Rory, on the other hand, is… cute.  Adorable in that 'I just want to pinch his cheeks' kind of way, which is perfect for Nathan—if for no other reason than to explain why Adelaide didn’t just dump his ass years ago.”

Blaine laughs at that as he deposits two text books from his messenger bag into his locker.

“If Kurt was here, he’d say the same, you know.”

Blaine’s laughter abruptly ends as his gaze flickers to the photos decorating the inside of the door.  His eyes linger over the one of Kurt in his cap and gown, arms wrapped tightly around Blaine’s shoulder, lips pressed to his cheek in a happy kiss while Blaine laughs.  Wincing slightly, he slams the door shut, shifting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and spins on his heel.

“Yes, well, he isn’t here, is he?”

Artie rolls up beside Blaine as they make their way down the mostly empty hallway.  “Oh, I see.”

At the tone of Artie’s voice, Blaine glances down at him with a frown.  “What?”

“I thought your attitude all day seemed a little weird.” Artie has to stop a moment as two cheerleaders pass by without giving him much room.  “Tina and I talked about it in English.  You were snappy during lunch, and that’s totally not you—“

“I can be snappy,” Blaine protests.

“And then there’s this whole musical thing with you insisting on only being Nathan.  Also, totally not you.  Other than just the role, I mean.”  Artie rolls in front of Blaine and stops, blocking his path.  “Did something happen with Kurt?”

Did something happen with Kurt?  Blaine feels like he’s been waiting to hear that question for… well, from the moment Kurt had said his dream was to go to New York for college, to get out of Ohio, and that moment is well past a year now, and the question is just as scary to hear as it has been to contemplate.  

Blaine takes a deep breath.  “I don’t know,” he rushes out, side-stepping Artie’s chair and continuing down the hall.  When Artie is once more beside him, Blaine tells him, “I haven’t heard from him in two days.   Two.  No texts.  No emails.  I logged on to Skype Monday night for our nightly chat and he never appeared.”

“Maybe something happened—“Artie’s voice sounds concerned.

Blaine’s mouth tightens for a moment.  “Burt talked to him yesterday morning.  He’s fine.”

“Oh.”

They continue on in silence until they reached the end of the hall, and Blaine pushes the door open, stepping inside and holding it to allow Artie to follow him into the locker room.  Practice doesn’t begin for another thirty minutes, and there are only a few boys milling about; Manuel is texting, and Dean and Matt are thumb wrestling.  They glance up at Blaine and Artie, giving them silent nods of greeting before returning to their activities.  Blaine opens his locker, removing his practice jersey and pants, and shoving his bag into their place as Artie rolls up beside him, waiting quietly for him to continue.

Blaine drops onto the bench to pull off his boat shoes as he glances at his friend. “We didn’t have a fight or anything.  He didn’t give any indication that he wouldn’t be around and I just—“  He sighs, curling his bare toes against the cold tile beneath them.  “I have an active imagination.”

Artie snorts beside him as he reaches out to pat Blaine’s shoulder.  “This I know.  But seriously, what can you worry about when it comes to Kurt?  The two of you are so married I keep wondering when you’re going to hyphenate your name.  One day we’ll be sitting in class and Mrs. Brisby will call out ‘Blaine Hummel-Anderson’, and I’ll be all, knew it!”

“Anderson-Hummel,” Blaine corrects quietly, and at Artie’s expression, he adds, “Kurt’s choice, actually.”

Artie shakes his head, wheeling around the bench toward his locker to get ready for practice.  “See?  Nothing to worry about.”

Blaine sighs and glances up as more of the team enters the locker room to get ready for practice.

This—football—wasn’t supposed to happen.  As much as Blaine loves the sport, loves football season, dragged Kurt to every Titans game the year before, he never once considered joining the team when he transferred.  Dreams of football glory were extinguished for Blaine right around the end of Pee Wee league—when all of the other boys kept growing and he just… stayed there for a while.  Perpetually waiting for the day when he’d be able to board the big kid rides at amusement parks, and by the time that happened, football had become a hobby, and was going to remain a hobby, while dreams of playing for the Patriots remained lodged firmly within Blaine’s own list of “If Only”s.   

The thing was, three of the Titan’s top players graduated last June, not to mention about ten other team members, and in the midst of Coach Beiste’s panic over losing star players, Mike had apparently suggested she recruit Blaine.  At first, Blaine had thought it was a joke—weekends of playing flag football with the guys from New Directions in the park in no way merited a spot on a high school football team.  When the coach had asked him to try out last spring, Blaine had very politely refused.  He’s fairly certain that shortly thereafter either Coach Beiste or Mike had gone to Kurt for assistance in convincing him to change his mind.  Kurt, knowing Blaine as well as he did, made a stunning move; not by attempting to convince Blaine that he should just give it a shot.  Oh no, Kurt is far more clever when it comes to making people do what he wants.  He bid his time until he was over at the Anderson’s for dinner one night, sitting around the table, passing the bowl of salad and “Oh, did Blaine tell you, Mr. Anderson?  Coach Beiste wants him to try out for the football team.”

And that had pretty much been that.  Blaine’s father had been so excited at the prospect of Blaine having the chance to play football again that his excitement had kind of carried over to his son.  It’s one thing when your father attempts to bond with you over something you really have little interest in; it’s quite another when you’re offered something you very much love, and know it’s one of the few things both you and your father share.

So a few weeks before Kurt’s graduation day, Blaine made his way out onto the field where the coach had gathered a bunch of the team, and he did his very best not to let the many people who seemed to have a lot more faith in Blaine than he himself did, down.  After quickly spinning and dancing his way to the end zone numerous times with the snapped ball, Coach Beiste declared him the Titan’s new running back.  Blaine thinks the Titan’s new quarterback, Aaron Ford said it best when he told Blaine after his try out, “You may be tiny, dude, but you’re quicker than shit.”

Coach Beiste has referred to him as “a greased pig in a cannon factory” more than once.  (Blaine still has no idea what it means, exactly.)  He likes it.  It’s not only to do with the fact that he’s made a few more friends at McKinley now, or that he and his father have something more to talk about over dinner every night, but the chance to get some aggression out on occasion as well has proven to be far more necessary than Blaine ever expected.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  Blaine had been fine with Kurt going off to New York for college, fine with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be joining him for another year.  Fine because it isn’t as if New York is on the other side of the country—they’d see one another plenty throughout the school year.  And then, once graduation hits, they’ll begin their new life together, in New York City, at NYADA, and they’ll never have to worry about separation again.

Except, it’s harder than Blaine expected.  Kurt’s been such an integral part of his life over the last two years, and even though they’ve talked daily since Kurt left Lima three weeks earlier, it just isn’t the same.  Blaine still finds himself turning to Kurt’s empty chair in the choir room, or waits for some comment about the cheeseburger and plate full of fries he has at lunch and it never comes.  He has friends—Artie and Tina and Brittany have been godsends so far—so it isn’t like he’s lonely, per se.  Between glee and football and the musical soon, he’s busy.  He’s occupied.  It’s just… he misses Kurt.  Misses Kurt more than he thought possible.

And the fact that Kurt has gone for two days without a word—the longest they’ve gone without even a text since the very day they met—has Blaine terrified.

“Anderson!  You planning on joining us this afternoon?”

Blaine looks up at Coach Beiste’s voice, having not realized he’d been standing there staring at the front of his locker for who knows how long.  Beside her, hovering in the doorway, Artie is watching him with sympathetic eyes.

“Yeah.  Sorry, coach,” Blaine says quietly, bending over to tie the laces on his cleats before grabbing his helmet and hurrying out the door.

Waving off offers to join some of his teammates for coffee at the Lima Bean by claiming he has a lot of homework to get done, Blaine gets home after practice, surprised to find his mother in the kitchen, glancing through the refrigerator.

“I thought you were gone until tomorrow,” he says, setting his bag down on the table before grabbing a glass from the cupboard for his usual glass of milk.  The cookie jar is depressingly empty, so he just nurses the milk quietly as he watches his mother sigh and close the refrigerator door.

“I was but the conference was cancelled when a fire broke out in the main meeting hall—“

“Are you all right?”

Chesa waves a hand as she opens the pantry and peers into it.  “I was in the kitchen at the time, discussing the six hundred lunches that had been prepared with the catering staff.  They ended up moving the meeting over to the Hilton.  I guarantee at least one person will be losing their job over this—that conference was worth a lot of money.”

“They can’t like, move back to the Marriott tomorrow or something?  Or was the damage really bad?”

“The only thing damaged was a set of curtains.” His mother pulls out a boxed dinner of chicken and rice, frowns at it, and sets it back in the pantry.  “Unfortunately, there’s water damage and it smells awful.  I tried talking the client into postponing the conference to next week but they wouldn’t budge.  The Hilton was only too willing to oblige.  The client promised they’d come back to us next year—nothing looks good for dinner.  Would you be terribly upset if I ordered pizza?”

“Oh, terribly.  Mom, you know how I feel about pizza.  I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.  Worst parenting ever, really.  You should be ashamed,” Blaine deadpans as he moves over to the sink to wash his empty glass out.

Chesa sighs dramatically as she pulls her cell phone from her purse.  “I thought as much.  Don’t tell your father.  He’ll divorce me.”

Blaine laughs, stepping over to place a kiss to her cheek.  “Extra pepperoni and extra cheese, white sauce, pan crust—“

“Green peppers?”

“Don’t press your luck, lady,” he says in a tone reminiscent of James Cagney, grinning as his mom rolls her eyes at him.

“Half the pizza, then,” she calls after him as Blaine grabs his bag and heads out of the kitchen toward the stairs.

“As long as they don’t touch my side—tell them not to let those things touch my side of the pizza,” Blaine yells back halfway up the steps.

Setting his messenger bag down in his chair, Blaine glances through the playlists on his iPod, looking for something to both get him through his homework and keep his mind off of Kurt for the next couple of hours before finally deciding on a mix of his favorite female artists.  He sits on his bed and opens his laptop, immediately logging in to Skype, on the off-chance that Kurt might be there even though it’s only five-thirty and their Skype dates don’t start until seven, but he only notices his brother online.  Blaine considers talking to him for about 2.5 seconds before changing his mind and digging his chemistry book out of his bag to start on homework.  The last time he’d gotten on Skype with his brother, Cooper had spent the entire chat literally crying in a beer over Sara breaking up with him.  Blaine loves his older brother to death but the relationship ended over three months ago, and besides, Sara turned out to not be as nice as she seemed.  Cooper could do better.

Forty-five minutes later, his paltry bit of homework is done (all right, so he had completely lied to his teammates to get out of coffee); Blaine has a half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand as he jumps on his bed, belting out Kate Nash. “I just want your kiss boy, kiss boy, kiss boy—I just want your kiss!”  He hops to the edge of the mattress along to the music as he takes another bite of his pizza, quickly swallowing as he bounces back to the center and continues along with her, “I just want your kiss boy, kiss boy, kiss boy—I just want your kiss!  

“The lights are on and someone’s home, but I’m not sure if they’re alone.  There’s someone else inside my head—“

“Blaine!”

Kate Nash continues on without him as Blaine stares back guiltily at his mother, who’s leaning against the doorway, pizza box in one hand, the other reached out, leveling a finger down to the floor.  Blinking, Blaine flashes an apologetic smile as he jumps off the bed and quickly sits down, like maybe he could convince her he’s been there all along.

“Sorry, Mom.”

Shaking her head, Chesa walks over, holding the box out to him.  “I thought maybe you’d want the last few slices since I didn’t order the peppers.” She smiles as he nods, taking it from her hands to set it on his lap and flip the lid open.  Three slices left!  Score!

“Is your homework done?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So you thought you’d reward yourself by jumping on furniture?” She asks, amusement coloring her tone as she moves to grab his shoes from the floor and carry them to his closet.  “I swear, Blaine Anderson, sometimes I think a rock climber impregnated me instead of your father.”

“Oh, god, Mom!” Blaine drops his slice of pizza to cover his ears in horror.  “Can you just not put such images in my head?  Like, ever?”

“Don’t worry.  It’s not like it was all that exciting or naughty or anything.  It was just your father—“

“Mom!” Blaine squeaks and falls back on his bed, covering his face with the pizza box, which he bangs against his forehead repeatedly in the hopes of expelling all thoughts of his parents engaged in sex.

“What?  Twice I’ve walked in to find your boyfriend with his tongue down your throat,” his mother comments, patting his knee as she returns next to him, lifting the box from his hands to place it on his desk.  “I think you’re due for a little payback.”

Blaine leans up on his elbows, scrunching his face as he looks at her.  “Right, because that time over the summer when you asked Kurt if we were being careful and using condoms wasn’t enough.”

Chesa grins as she leans over to press a kiss to his forehead.  “A mother can’t want her boy to be safe?”

“Not at the expense of his dignity, no,” Blaine says emphatically.

“Speaking of,” she glances toward his laptop, “it’s almost time for your nightly chat, isn’t it?”

Sighing, Blaine nods and follows her gaze, heart sinking a little as he imagines another night without seeing Kurt’s face.  “Yes.  I guess.”

“You guess?  Did Kurt have to cancel?”

Blaine shrugs as he sits up fully.  “I don’t know.  He hasn’t been on the last two nights.  I… I haven’t heard from him at all.”

Chesa is silent for a long moment before her hand rests against his shoulder and she gives it a light squeeze.  “I’m sure he’s just been busy with school.  And Rachel.  You did say they’re living together, right?  That girl’s a handful.  I’m sure living with her is a daily three-ring circus.  I wouldn’t worry too much.” She tucks a stray curl behind his ear.  “There’s ice cream downstairs later if you want some.  It’s strawberry.  I successfully hid it from your father in the back of the freezer.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Blaine watches silently as she leaves the room before he wriggles back on his bed to lean against the headboard, picking up another slice of pizza as he stares at the screen of his laptop besides him.  He hums along with Avril Lavigne and waits for seven o’clock.

Blaine is staring at the time on his laptop as it hits seven o’clock.  His eyes flicker to his address book on Skype, but Kurt isn’t online yet.  He takes a breath, trying not to let his heart fall from his chest, and reaches out for another piece of pizza only to realize the box is empty.  Sighing, he tosses it to the floor and glances at the clock again.  Seven oh one.  And back to the list.  Still no Kurt.

Picking up his pencil, Blaine begins tapping in rhythm to Maria Mena against his leg, trying not to watch the clock, and failing miserably.  Without even realizing he’s doing it, Blaine starts singing along, “Oh I'm in love, again, again.  And you may call me tomorrow my friend, yes.  You may kiss me again and again.  I'll hold on tight.  I climbed up on his shoulders and laughed until I cried. The view and I collide, to see this through his eyes.” He frowns as the lyrics hit him, and slumps against his pillows eyes downcast as he tries very, very hard not to let all of the fears and hurt over Kurt’s silence engulf him.

It isn’t supposed to be like this.  It’s only been a few weeks.  They can’t last that long without seeing one another before it all just ends?  No! Blaine isn’t going to stand for that.  Sitting up, he reaches for his phone on his nightstand, determined to get Kurt to talk to him and, if he doesn’t answer then he’ll just leave one ridiculously long and pleading message after another.

Just as he’s about to hit dial, Blaine spies Kurt’s name light up on the screen, and he tries really, really hard not to cry as he connects to see his boyfriend’s beautiful face appear before him.

“Kurt!” Blaine’s sure his voice cracks just a little, and he doesn’t care.  “I didn’t—I’m so glad you’re here!  I’ve missed you so much, and I was so worried but your dad said he talked to you and—“

“Sorry,” Kurt interrupts quickly.  He looks tired, smiling just a little at Blaine, shoulders lower than usual.  “I’ve just—school's been really busy and I’ve got an internship down at Hirschfeld, and I know I should have emailed or texted or something but every time I thought I’d have a moment to do that—"

“No! It’s okay,” Blaine says, cutting him off because he feels ridiculously guilty for thinking it was anything other than really important reasons that Kurt hasn’t been around.  “Please, don’t apologize.  I know you’re busy, and everything is new and… I’m just glad you’re here now.”

Blaine can’t stop staring.  Not seeing Kurt regularly means when he does get the chance, Blaine just drinks in the sight of him–the flawless complexion, impossible to describe eyes, lips that Blaine misses kissing beyond imagination.  Lips that he misses the feel of moving over his skin and—

Okay.  He needs to stop there before he has to excuse himself for a few minutes.  The last time he and Kurt had attempted a Skype sex session, Rachel had interrupted, just breezing into Kurt’s room.  Luckily it had happened before they’d really started anything.  While Kurt is apparently now locking his door, he still hasn’t been convinced to take any more chances just yet.  Blaine glances at the countdown he has on his desktop.  Just less than three weeks to go until Kurt has a four day weekend—one he plans on spending in Lima.  Blaine can certainly make it until then.

“Oh!  Mr. Schue wanted me to say hi for him,” Blaine tells Kurt with a smile.  “He said the choir room just isn’t the same without you in it, and while I tend to agree with that, I’m admittedly a little biased, so it was really nice to hear him mentioning the same sentiment.  You should have been there Monday—Brittany brought Lord Tubbington to class.”

Kurt blinks at that, eyes widening a little.  “What?  Why?”

Blaine laughs, flailing his hands a little in front of him as he explains, “She says he wanted to learn French.  I don’t—“ Blaine broke off, giggling.  “Seriously, Kurt, I’m beginning to think that all the things she says about him are actually true.  At this point in time, if I were to see that cat smoking and hanging out with a bad crowd reading Brittany’s diary aloud in French,  I wouldn’t even be surprised.”  He shakes his head with another laugh. “So many people think Brittany’s dumb, but I’m starting to think she’s actually from another dimension and is just able to see things the rest of us can’t.”

“Please tell me you don’t honestly believe that?”

Smile faltering, Blaine stares at the screen a moment.  Kurt’s tone and the set of his expression clearly say he’s annoyed about something.  Blaine runs through the past few moments in his mind, wondering if he’d said something wrong, but there’s nothing that he can recall to make Kurt behave this way.  He struggles for a moment with how to respond, before finally saying quietly, “No.  But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?”

Kurt shrugs and pulls a book in front of him, flipping it open.

Shifting uncomfortably on his bed, Blaine finds he can’t get past the sense that Kurt honestly doesn’t want to be there.  That… this entire conversation is a chore or something.  It’s ridiculous, of course; their Skype session Sunday night had been just about perfect.  They’d gazed into their cameras for a good two hours, talking about how much they’d missed one another, and adding together the hours until they would see one another again.

“So.”  Blaine lets the word hang there a moment before asking, “What’s been going on the last couple of days?”

“School,” Kurt says shortly.  “I’m just really busy, you know?”

Blaine nods, eyes sweeping over Kurt’s image as Kurt barely seems to acknowledge that Blaine’s even there.  “Not too busy to enjoy and get to know your new city, I hope?”

Kurt shrugs, but says nothing.

Blaine takes a breath, searching for something that might involve Kurt in the conversation with him more.  He smiles suddenly, perking up as he straightens against the headboard.

“I’ve been dying to talk to you about the school musical,” Blaine begins, relieved that he can finally get Kurt’s opinion in it all.  No one’s matters more than his opinion in Blaine’s world, and Artie was right—it’s precisely why he’s been so on edge over the whole matter.  “You know how we’re doing Guys and Dolls, right?  Well, I think Nathan Detroit would be a better fit for me.  I mean, they’re both great parts, but Sky just seems like such an independent, suave, kind of dashing man, you know?  And Nathan… well, you have to admit, the guy is kind of made of fail and I think we both know I could write the book on that personality trait!” Blaine smiles.

Kurt glances up at the screen momentarily, lips compressed tightly, before dropping his gaze to his book once more.

Blaine worries his lower lip for a few seconds, before continuing, “Anyway, Artie disagrees.  He wants me to play Sky, and Rory to play Nathan.  I’m not going to argue with what I get, honestly—just the fact that he wants me for another lead is enough for me.  I don’t know.  I’d just be more comfortable with Nathan, I guess.  Plus, I really think Tina is going to get the role of Sergeant Sarah Brown, and the idea of singing love songs and kissing someone who’s like a sister to me?”  He visibly shudders and laughs.  “I can’t imagine we wouldn’t end up giggling the entire time.  I don’t know… what do you think?”

Kurt flips a page, and shrugs.

To say Kurt’s lack of any sort of interest in what Blaine is asking him about stings a little bit is an understatement.  Even last year, when they had been competing for the same role, Kurt had still been open and willing to talk to him about West Side Story and the role of Tony.  He’d encouraged Blaine, and supported him, even when Blaine could see how much it was hurting Kurt that he hadn’t even been considered for the role.  Now, it is as if Kurt could care less.

“Kurt,” Blaine says quietly.  “I was hoping that maybe you would give me your opinion?  You’re… I don’t understand why you’re acting like you just don’t… care.”

Kurt looks up at that, but his eyes barely hold Blaine’s for a fraction of a second before he drops them back to his book.  “I’m sorry, Blaine, but I have more important things to worry about than high school musicals.”

That hurts.  Blaine sucks in a breath and responds in the only way his injured pride will allow him to do.  “My apologies if the things that matter to me are such an annoyance to you.”

Kurt rolls his eyes.  Actually rolls his eyes  at Blaine. “Stop being so childish.”

Blaine logs off Skype without another word.

It takes him approximately a minute to realize what he’s just done—that he just hung up on his boyfriend without even a warning—and quickly logs back in, heart racing.

Kurt’s no longer there.

“Why?” Blaine says it aloud to the screen, voice breaking slightly as his brain catches up to the painful ache in his heart. Kurt knows him well enough to understand that sometimes Blaine just reacts to situations, following what he’s feeling, and not necessarily thinking it over beforehand.  He should know that Blaine would log back in once coming to his senses; he should have waited for him.

Caught between anger and hurt, Blaine continues to sit there the next few minutes, staring at the panel, waiting for Kurt’s icon to indicate that he is back online, but the minutes continue to tick by, and Kurt doesn’t reappear.  Blaine blows out a shaky breath, eyes stinging as tears gather because Kurt’s never behaved this way to him before.  Even when Kurt’s been angry with Blaine, even when he’s been frustrated, he’s never shown annoyance, never once indicated that there were things in his life far more important to him than the boy he professes to love.

Blaine isn’t even certain of what he’s supposed to be feeling in that moment.

Come What May begins playing from his phone and Blaine reaches for it, hesitating a moment, staring at the caller ID with Kurt’s name flashing.  He goes to pick it up, and the song stops.  He can’t remember if he had it forwarded for any reason.  So he waits, because maybe it was, and Kurt is leaving a message.  Or if it isn’t, maybe something came up and Kurt had to stop the call and would soon be calling back.  Maybe he’ll text instead; something short and quick like Get on Skype.

Blaine sits and waits, staring at his phone for a full five minutes before it becomes too much, before he realizes that Kurt is not, in fact, going to call back or text or anything.  The anger and hurt building inside of him becoming overwhelming and Blaine shouts at his phone, “You really wanted to talk to me, didn’t you?” before throwing it across the room.  It hits the wall hard, leaving a mark before dropping to the carpet.

By the time his mother walks into the room only a minute or so later, Blaine is kneeling on the floor, checking his phone to see if he broke it, to see if maybe Kurt is trying to call him.

“Blaine?  Honey, is something wrong?  I thought I heard you shouting.”

Dropping to a cross-legged position, Blaine stares blankly at the phone in his hand before looking up at his mother as she walks over beside him.  Seeing the expression of concern on her face makes everything hurt suddenly, and the first tears finally fall.  “Kurt and I had a fight… I think.”  Because he doesn’t know.  They didn’t yell, or anything.  They just… nothing.

“Oh,” she says quietly, reaching her hand out to touch his hair.  “What about?”

Blaine shakes his head; he doesn’t even know how to answer that.  “It was like he didn’t even want to talk to me, Mom.  He just… he called me childish.”

Chesa purses her lips, saying nothing for a moment as her fingers brush against his scalp.  “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.  Kurt loves you very much, honey.  I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”  She cups his chin and gives him a smile.  “Why don’t I make you some hot chocolate?  We still have some marshmallows left over.  Would you like that?”

How can he drink hot chocolate and eat marshmallows when it feels like his entire world is ending?  Kurt is annoyed with him, and doesn’t care, and Blaine has absolutely no idea what he’s done to make Kurt feel this way.  

“Maybe I should call him,” Blaine says, not answering her question as he drops his gaze to his phone, more tears falling.  His breath shudders as he breathes in.  “Or text?  Maybe I should—I don’t know what I did.”

His mother sighs and she kneels down next to him, brushing at some lint on her skirt.  “Sometimes we let things get to us in life, and we take it out on the people we love the most because they’re there, and because we know they’ll forgive us.”  She slides an arm around Blaine and pulls him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he allows himself to softly cry against her shoulder.  “Give him time to get past whatever is bothering him.  It’s more than likely Kurt didn’t even realize he was hurting you.  Wait until morning.  Things will be okay, I promise.”  She gives him another kiss.  “Why don’t you get washed up and ready for bed, and I’ll bring you that hot chocolate, okay?”

Blaine nods quietly as his mother pulls away and stands, leaving him alone.  He wipes his tears away, and thinks about texting Kurt anyway, but if his mother is right, he doesn’t want to annoy him further.  Clutching his phone in his hand, Blaine climbs up on to his bed, pulling his pillow against his chest as he stares at the dark screen, and waits.