Blaine was desperate to wash away all traces of Kurt off of his body. It wasn’t that he detested the blue eyed�brunette, it was the opposite. He only knew that it was wrong, very wrong, to have allowed Kurt to lean on his shoulder. And wrap an arm around his waist. Blaine guessed it was the need of any romantic inclination and all interaction that lead him to wrap his own arm around the slender boy’s shoulder. It was only the first god damn day and they were acting like they knew each other for years. Blaine couldn’t let his guard down. He knew that his action had no sentimental value, but what if Kurt somehow felt it? He reminded himself that this was a prison, where he was only fulfilling his sentence. Blaine hated the feeling of being so physically and mentally close to someone who held so much power over what he will be doing. And he was more than aware of the fact that Kurt had worry lines that almost disappeared when he slept. Worry lines at the age of… he didn’t even know how old Kurt was…�shit.�He couldn’t seem to clear his mind and make sense of anything. Blaine tried to shake the thoughts away but didn’t succeed at coming to any sort of acceptable excuse. Suddenly standing on his two wobbling legs was too difficult, and he decided it was best to try and dodge it if it happened to come up in conversation. But for now, he would try and actually sleep for the first time in a week. He picked up his old Dalton night clothes and slowly put them on.

�� � � � � � � ——————

The instant Kurt woke up he realized that it was dark out, the television was muted, and Blaine was nowhere to be found. He felt the resentment towards Blaine for not waking him up, but rationalized that he wouldn’t know his class schedule. He stood up quickly and the room spun slightly. Squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temples, he tried to gain his bearings. Opening his eyes slowly, he turned to face the kitchenette and still didn’t find him. He took several long and quick strides towards his bedroom door and heard nothing. It couldn’t hurt to look inside quickly could it? He wouldn’t even have to actually enter Blaine’s room. He just needed to make sure he was still here and he wasn’t violating any of the dean’s rules. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he twisted the knob to the right and swung the door open.
To find it was empty.
Why was his heart pounding so loudly? But more importantly, where the fuck was Blaine? It’s not like he’s a wizard. Kurt raced to the window and peered out into the dark night. He pinched his arm as though this was only a dream.�Then Kurt heard it, water hitting the shower tiles and low sighs. He shifted slightly from one foot to another, suddenly uncomfortable about being in this stranger’s room. He knew that there was something singular and comforting about a shower, but he couldn’t seem to move. He glanced around the room and at the desk and noticed the black composition notebook that was lying open. He couldn’t help but pick out his name after a brief glance. It seemed as though his hands had acted for themselves as they reached for the notebook, because his mind knew it was wrong to snoop into people personal belongings.�But regardless of his mental protests, his hands clutched the notebook to his violently pounding heart and bounded to his own haven, the sound of Blaine’s shower filling his ears.

The first entry in the black notebook:

July 29th.
Why am I here? I don’t understand why I can’t be around the regular students of Dalton…�
July 30th.
Half of me wishes Kurt was back so I had someone, anyone to talk to…
August 1st.
Twenty-six dark wood panels on the west wall, and five days without any trace of sleep. The dreams always turn into strange and violent nightmares and I can’t let them come back…
This notebook was a stupid fucking idea. Thanks a lot mom.�

Kurt turned several pages in astonishment, his hands slightly shaking as he read a single word.

Fuck.