After finally taking a long shower, carefully picking out what clothes to wear and a drive of about fifteen minutes, Blaine is pacing nervously in front of the coffee shop. He's already late, but he's not sure about his decision yet. Was it a good idea to call someone to talk about Kurt? He knows his boyfriend will probably kill him for this. He certainly won't agree with the person Blaine picked to talk to.

Maybe he was stupid and impulsive, making that call, without thinking about the consequences. He could send a text, saying he made a mistake and he's not coming. He could just turn around and go back home. But he's not sure how long he'll be able to keep all of this a secret. It's eating him from the inside out and he called the first person he could think of. So maybe it was good he did it. Blaine doesn't know anymore.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door, stepping inside. He easily spots the familiar face at a table. With a slightly nauseous and guilty feeling, he walks over to the table, smiling as brightly as he can manage while feeling sick.

"Blaine!" Before he can sit down, he is pulled into a hug, tears instantly sting his eyes just from having someone else's scent around him - he has felt so alone the last week. Ever since Kurt isn't home anymore (actually since Kurt got into the hospital), Blaine has had trouble sleeping, just because it's too quiet. So he returns the hug, feeling highly emotional.

"Hey, Rach. Thank you for coming. Sorry I'm late."

The tiny girl shakes her head. "It's fine, Blaine. Don't worry about it. Finn is always late. And a lot later than you. Sit down."

Blaine listens to her order, like a well-trained puppy, and sits himself down in the chair, opposite Rachel. A waitress appears, so he orders coffee, not even aware that he's giving her Kurt's usual coffee order, instead of his own. Rachel opens her mouth, but changes her mind and closes it again.

Blaine shifts awkwardly in his chair, when the waitress leaves to get his coffee. Rachel frowns and leans in closer. "Blaine, what's going on? Where is Kurt?"

"Kurt.. He's gone for a while, Rachel." Blaine replies, his throat feeling thick, exhaustion suddenly taking over his body.

"Oh my God, you didn't break up, did you? Are you guys on a break? Are you fighting? Do you need me to help you figure out Kurt?" Rachel rambles, while she stares at Blaine with wide eyes, worry visible in her face.

"No! No, our relationship is.. Well.. Fine.. We're not- We're not fighting." Blaine panics again, inwardly cursing himself for choosing Rachel Berry out of all people to talk about Kurt. Putting it in the Internet would spread the news slower.

"Then why do you look so stressed out? You look like hell, Blaine."

"Thanks for being honest, I guess." Blaine mutters in reply, looking away.

Rachel shakes her head and takes his hand in her own. "Blaine. You said you needed to talk. Talk. Because you're scaring me. "

Blaine takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "Kurt is.. sick.." He hears Rachel gasp, while she squeezes his hand.

"Sick? What do you mean, sick? What happened? Where is he?"

Blaine opens his eyes, but he's not able to look into Rachel's eyes. He bites his lip and stares at their hands.

"Rachel.. Kurt.. Kurt has an eating disorder.. He.. He's at a clinic now. He passed out, Rach.. I just- I shouldn't be telling you. Kurt will kill me, but I can't.. I can't do this alone and you know him, I just thought- I just thought I could.. see you sometimes.. To- To talk.."

He glances up to look at Rachel's face. She looks stunned and confused - thoughtful. "An eating disorder? Kurt? But.. How?"

Blaine shakes his head. "I don't know, Rach. You remember Christmas?"

She nods. "Yeah, he was acting a bit strange. But I assumed it was because he's such a health freak. Or that he was worried about his father's health, because of the dinner." She frowns. "He was in the bathroom."

Blaine sighs and closes his eyes again. "We- I should have noticed it sooner. The morning after that, I saw his body. He looks like a skeleton, Rachel. His body is fucking gone!"

A few people look at him at his outburst and Blaine blushes and stares at the table. Rachel softly strokes his hand with her thumb. "Hey.. Blaine? It will be fine, right? He's getting help now, isn't he? You shouldn't blame yourself. Kurt is.. Well.. He's always pretending to be fine, while he's not. He doesn't know how to depend on other people. It's not your fault."

Blaine shrugs and swallows back his tears. "He- He will get better. I just feel alone, I guess. It- It hurts."

The waitress shows up with their order and Blaine has to take a sip from his scalding hot coffee, before realizing there's something wrong with it. It tastes like Kurt. Kurt's coffee. He blinks, tears in his eyes. Rachel notices and pats his hand. Blaine coughs and smiles at her. "I think I burned my tongue." The girl looks at him, but doesn't say anything about it.

Blaine puts down his cup again, keeping his fingers against the hot carton, burning the tips, but refusing to pull away.

"I'd like to see you sometimes, Blaine. I think it will be good for you if you have some distraction. I do have a rather full schedule, though. I mean, I have shows and everything.. Maybe I can get you a ticket! And if Kurt can come home for a weekend, he can come too." Rachel offers with a gentle smile.

Blaine nods and takes another sip from his coffee, which has cooled down a bit. He can't remember giving the waitress Kurt's coffee order instead of his own. It triggers memories of their good times together, coffee dates, holding hands, long conversations. And it hurts. But he doesn't want to show it, so he forces a smile on his face and attempts to have a conversation with Rachel, even though he doesn't really know what she's saying.

When he gets home, Blaine feels exhausted and anxious. The place feels empty – too empty. He closes the door and instantly rushes to the bedroom, into the closet, curling up with one of Kurt's sweaters. It's not one of his oversized sweaters; he took all of those with him. It's a pretty, baby blue colored sweater. One of Kurt's favourite sweaters, before he started to wear the big clothes he wears now. He buries his nose in the fabric, desperate for Kurt's scent. It's almost gone, but still present and Blaine can't help but to start crying. He doesn't even know why he's clinging to a sweater, but he just needs a part of Kurt with him.

His body is shaking and he's about to rip the sweater, the way he's holding on to it. It doesn't help. It's not enough. It hurts too much. So he gets back up on his feet, wobbly and not really seeing anything. He drags himself back into the bedroom and grabs Kurt's coat. The scent is clearer on the coat, because Kurt has worn it more recently. It drives him insane. Without thinking, he digs up the case from the pocket, stares at it, slightly breathless. Silent tears are streaming down his cheeks. He doesn't know what he's doing. Nothing feels real. He opens the case and picks up one of the razors, while sobs shake through his body. It's not real. It's not real.

He stares at the shiny blade and pulls up his sleeve. There's some vague lines visible on his arm, but Kurt has never noticed them. They're only slightly darker than his skin. Blaine takes a deep breath and sits himself down on the bed. He glances back and forth between the razor and his bare skin. His Kurt is sick and he didn't notice. His Kurt didn't see how beautiful he is. Blaine has failed as a boyfriend, as a mentor, as a friend, as a human. The blade meets his skin. He doesn't instantly move it, he just takes in the feeling of the sharp metal against his warm skin. Then he drags it down. His eyes widen as the cut fills itself with blood, a thick stream of red makes its way down his arm and starts to drip onto the floor, soaking the carpet.

He gets up, drops the razor and rushes to the bathroom, instantly pulling some toilet paper from the roll and pressing it against his wound, to stop the flowing of the blood. His breathing is uneven and his body is shaking. But he's feeling. His mind is clear. It feels so good. Even though he's panicking about the amount of blood and the stains on his jeans and the carpet. Blaine bites his lip again and pulls up de toilet paper. The cut instantly fills itself with blood again. He quickly presses the paper back onto the wound.

Blaine feels desperate. He grabs his phone with his free hand, but doesn't know who to call. He thinks of calling Kurt, but Kurt doesn't even know about his past. Almost no-one does. And he's not going to tell Kurt through the phone. So he throws the phone onto the bed and grabs some tape to keep the toilet paper against his arm. Then he attempts to clean the carpet, after getting out of his jeans and throwing them in the washing machine, instantly turning it on to get the stains out.

The carpet is hard to clean and Blaine curses, while he keeps scrubbing. He wishes Kurt would just come back and hold him. Even though this wouldn't even have happened if Kurt was there. He doesn't blame his boyfriend, he blames himself for being so weak. Kurt is just the thing that makes him happy and careless. He doesn't know how to be without the other anymore. He needs him.

So he retrieves his phone and goes through his contacts until he gets to 'Kurt'.

'Hey, babe. I spilled hot chocolate on the carpet. You know a good way to get it out? I love you. And I miss you like crazy, beautiful. Love, Blaine.'