When Blaine awoke, he felt a large wave of panic crash into him as he momentarily forgot where he was. The sun is in his eyes as he rolls away from the blinding light and glances over at the clock for the first time, seeing that it’s nine o’clock in the morning. He figures that he’s safe to go out because Kurt will have left for class by now. He finds himself in front of the sleek piano again, staring down at its taunting pristine black keys and gleaming white rectangles. How many times had he been in this same position in the past month? He flexes his fingers and thinks that last year he would be attending his Poetry class with Professor Reynolds. He reminds himself that things have drastically changed since last year. Running a hand through his gelled hair, he takes a seat on the cold piano bench. He sits with his hands hovering and his mind processing the similarities between this piano and the piano that had taken over most of his memories. He grazed the middle C note with his index finger and then recoiled almost instantaneously. This was the most he had done the past month. It was identical to the one- He couldn’t go there.
“Blaine?” The timid voice behind him questioned. Blaine’s head snapped up, the unexpected noise making his heart beat as fast as a rabbit’s. Immediately, he’s on edge and standing, the piano bench falling to the wooden floor with a loud clang. Kurt flinched, took a step back, and closed his eyes for several seconds. Blaine shuffles to pick up the bench, the loud sound emanating throughout the entire apartment and blocking out all of his previous thoughts.
“Kurt.” Blaine states, turning back around to the blue-eyed brunette. There’s a long pause before Kurt opens his mouth to speak, shuffling from one foot to another slightly. Blaine had two thoughts as Kurt looked at him in this state. The fact that the blue-eyed boy’s face was splotchy, most likely from crying, and that Blaine was happy that he had gelled his hair for some reason.
“I-I’m sor-I’m going to class now.” He said in the same small, timid voice. He stopped shuffling and looked down at his standard black dress shoes.
“I know your schedule, Kurt.” Blaine replied, bluntly. Kurt nodded slowly and then glanced up, the tip of his nose turning pink. He doesn’t comment on his slightly askew tie and inwardly wants to reach out and straighten it.
“Bye, Blaine.” He said, turning after clicking a button on his keychain. Before reaching for the doorknob, he shifted his messenger bag on his shoulder and walked out of the front exit. Blaine should not being feeling this way about Kurt. He should be angry at him for slapping him across the face. He should be mad because he left for ten days without even the slightest notice.
He shouldn’t have been watching his naturally enticing hip movement as he walked through the door. Blaine just finds himself confused and filled with a strange sense of longing. He hears another voice directly outside the door that sounds vaguely familiar but instead turns and walks to the kitchenette. He takes an inventory of all of the food in the cabinets for the first time, slightly smiling at the fact that it’s all organic. Eating organic seemed like something Kurt would do. Blaine wasn’t sure why he felt that way, but it just seemed right. He grabs a small green apple from the bowl on the counter and takes a bite. The tart juice shocks his taste buds and he closes his eyes with a feeling of contentment. He’s so focused on the taste and experience of the apple he doesn’t notice the door opening again.
“Do you ever eat?” Kurt’s voice asks from far away. Blaine opens his eyes quickly, shock and embarrassment flooding him.
“Yes, I eat.” Blaine manages to say. He ignores the fact that Kurt’s tie is even more askew and his hair is a tiny bit mussed with. He finds himself wondering if Kurt has a boyfriend, feels his neck heating up, and looks away from Kurt.
“When? I’ve never seen you eat anything in the past month.” Kurt says persistently.
“I don’t know. A couple of days ago. You were there when I came out and got some food from the fridge, remember? You were working on French.” Blaine said, taking a large bite to accentuate his point. Kurt’s expression was guarded when Blaine looked at him.
“Right,” Kurt said after a second. Blaine could practically see gears running in his head. “Well, you’re welcome to any of the food in there… I came back to get my textbook.” He finishes, pivoting on his heel pointedly and walking to his bedroom. Blaine heard a bit of rustling before he reemerged, French textbook in his hand.
“Kurt?” Blaine asks, regretting it the second the brunette’s name slipped out of his mouth. Kurt turned towards him again, shifting his messenger bag again. Blaine wracked his brain for something, anything to say so he didn’t seem like an idiot. “I’m not mad at you.” He wasn’t even sure why he had decided on blurting that either but as soon as the words were out in the open he realized that it was true. Something similar to relief flickered in Kurt’s blue eyes. He didn’t reply he just turned on his heel again and walked out the exit door after clicking a small black remote on his keychain. Blaine took the last bite of his tart apple and decided to eat as little of Kurt’s food as possible because somewhere in the back of his head he didn’t want to owe him. He didn’t want to owe anyone.
————
Kurt arrived to his History class ten minutes late with Wes and David trailing behind him. He wouldn’t be late if he hadn’t stopped to talk to Blaine. His insides were squirming with confusion as he attempted to focus on Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution. The rest of the day passed in a heavy haze of chalk dust and tests.
“I’m going to go back to my apartment for lunch, guys.” Kurt told the Warblers after he realized he had also forgotten his lunch. He despised the fact that he was becoming so forgetful. Walking to his dorm, he thought of last year when Blaine was roaming the same halls. When wasn’t he thinking of Blaine, really? He clicked the volume button to display the time, he had twenty minutes before Warblers practice. He itched to call Carole but knew that he would only disturb her. When he reached the outside of his door he could hear soft piano notes floating through the air and mixing with the white noise of other boys talking. He reached for the doorknob but remembered the electricity. He wasn’t sure of any of the other boys had this installed, they certainly hadn’t mentioned it. The Dean had been worried about the security and integrity of the students. But Kurt knew it had truly been the reputation of the private school, the Dean couldn’t allow anyone to know they were stowing an alleged murderer in one of their dormitories. The thought of the Dean’s cowardice made his stomach churn.
He didn’t want to admit that the melody was beautiful as he clicked the button. He didn’t want Blaine stop playing, but the instant the door closed behind him, the boy stood rigidly and faced him. Kurt tried not to acknowledge the small dark splatters on Blaine’s gray V-neck. He also tried not acknowledge his noticeable collarbone and naturally tan skin. Kurt found Blaine’s eyes again after a moment and he wished he hadn’t. They were drowning in the salty water of his tears and finally the hazel eyed boy tore away from the staring contest, looking down at his socked feet.
“I forgot my lunch,” Kurt supplied, bitterly. “I seem to be doing that a lot lately.” Blaine simply nodded and walked over to sit on the couch. Kurt fidgeted, but stopped himself after a few moments. He couldn’t let himself become unwound again. Last night was a once in a lifetime. He heard Blaine flipping through a book, and Kurt bit his lip to refrain from talking. He turned to face the kitchen but his mouth betrayed him.
“Your playing is very nice.” He heard himself say and he took a deep breath. He was allowed to say that. That was kind enough. Opening and closing the refrigerator door seemed to drown out the possibility of Blaine’s opportunity to reply, but Kurt didn’t make a move to ask him if he had said anything. He despised that he was so far out of his element. He quickly began his pesto pizza to refrain from saying anything else to make the situation even more awkward. Kurt was enjoying his third slice of the doughy pizza when he felt his eyes began to itch. He frantically gulped down his water, hoping his closing airway was purely psychological. He felt his eyes bulge and his entire body begin to itch. It was all he could manage to cough out Blaine’s name. He felt like it taken forever for Blaine to turn around, his eyes as wide as saucers as Kurt fell to the floor. He barely registered that Blaine was over him and there was a sharp piercing feeling in his chest. But when his eyes fluttered open, Blaine was panting, a gleam of sweat over his forehead, his hands pressed to his chest, overlapping each other. His breath was heaving and there was a look of relief in Blaine’s eyes that made Kurt’s heart soar. He blamed his reaction for anything he felt at this moment. Kurt took a deep breath and savored it.
“Fuck, Hummel. You scared me.” He said earnestly.
“What? You think I did that on purpose?” Kurt replied indignantly. Blaine smiled slightly.

He could have sworn that Blaine leaned in first.
He could have swore that Blaine leaned in first.