Chapter 7

Kurt woke up at noon with a dull throbbing in his head. The house was quiet, so he decided Blaine was still asleep. He slipped out of Cooper's room, rubbing sleep away from his eyes. There was definitely one great effect alcohol had on him: it made him sleep like a baby.

To his surprise, Blaine was already up, fighting drowsiness over a steaming cup of coffee and squinting as if the light hurt his eyes.

'Want some?,' Blaine asked him without a greeting, pointing at the coffee machine.

Kurt only nodded and poured himself some of the hot beverage into a mug. He noticed that Blaine seemed to be doing a bit worse than himself; it was Blaine, after all, who drank three quarters of that scotch.

'Headache?,' Kurt said.

'You have no idea,' groaned Blaine.

'Actually, I do.'

Blaine scanned him through half-squeezed eyelids.

'But you don't look like shit. I do.'

Kurt couldn't help but chuckle. There was a grain of truth in what Blaine was saying; his hair was a complete mess, and there were huge, dark bags under his eyes, while Kurt looked almost like after any other night, with slight shadows under his eyes, not even comparable to Blaine's.

They stayed silent for a while, sipping their coffee with a hope their headaches would subside. And once the pot was emptied twice, they realized that was as good as it could get. Blaine stopped squinting, light no longer glaring in his eyes. Kurt's head felt almost fine.

The day was cold and wet, a violent wind sent raindrops rattling all over the windows. The boys were thankful to be staying inside, so Blaine sprawled over one of the living room couches, enjoying the warmth of the fire they lit in the fireplace. Kurt sat down by the piano, playing random bits of random songs.

They weren't talking; in the previous three days they had talked enough to become entirely content and at ease with being silent together. In the space of seventy two hours they went all the way from being a pair of complete strangers to being best friends. It didn't matter how short they'd known each other; they felt as if it was a great chunk of their lives. An understanding formed between them without them even fully realizing it. But deep down they knew that they both needed someone to fill the unfathomable emptiness they felt, that desperate loneliness.

Kurt's fingers were flying absently over the keyboard, his thoughts going back to the conversation they had the previous night.

'Is that from The Sound of Music?,' Blaine asked, pulling Kurt out of his reverie.

'What?'

Blaine waved his hand at the piano.

'The song you're playing. It's from The Sound of Music, right?'

Kurt glanced at his hands on the keyboard, realizing what he'd been playing for the last ten minutes.

'Yes.' He paused hesitatingly. 'It was the first song I ever sang publicly.' He began playing from the top again, this time singing along. 'Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens...'

Kurt stopped. Blaine was watching him all along, but he knew it wasn't the reason the song was interrupted. It was clear Kurt wanted to tell him something. So he stayed silent, waiting patiently for Kurt to speak.

'When I was in second grade, there was this talent thing for the kids to show off,' he began. 'My mom convinced me to take part and sing. And this was sort of our theme song. She used to sing it to me when I was little. She was such a Sound of Music fan. I was even named after Kurt von Trapp.'

A small smile appeared on his lips just to vanish a second later.

'So I sang that song at the show. My mom was sitting in the front row, beaming, and she gave me a standing ovation. It was really amazing. And then, after the show was over I came up to her, and I saw her arguing with one of the fathers in the audience. I didn't know what it was about then. I only remember two words being mentioned by him. Gay and fag.' He grimaced. 'I don't think I'd ever heard them before then. Or at least I can't recall it. I suppose that guy thought it was inappropriate for a boy to sing a song from a musical. My mom got pissed. But then, she died a couple of months later.'

Blaine digested the story for a few minutes. He didn't think he needed to say anything; his role was to listen.

'I used to have an unhealthy obsession with Disney movies,' he said finally. 'But my parents never approved. I once asked my mom for a Cinderella t-shirt. She was horrified.' He shrugged dismissively, and looked at Kurt, who was listening closely.

The mood became suddenly as gloomy as the weather outside. Kurt remembered how in his early childhood, every time he would fall or injure himself in any way, his mother would cheer him up by singing My Favorite Things. It seemed only fitting to start playing it again.

This time, Blaine joined in the singing.

Kurt was stabbing his potatoes with his fork, his thoughts drifting away from the dinner table.

'Blaine?,' he said finally, breaking the silence.

'Yeah?'

'Your parents are coming back tomorrow,' he stated. Neither of them had to be reminded that the carefreeness of the last few days was coming to an end.

'I already told you, you can stay. We'll figure it out.'

Blaine wished to have the house all to himself – and Kurt – for at least one more week. The return of his parents meant that everything would be a hundred times more complicated.

'We don't really have much more time to figure it out, Blaine.'

Reluctantly, Blaine looked up at Kurt. He looked seriously distressed, even more than Blaine himself.

'I know.'

Kurt bit his lip. The idea that the Andersons could come to discover a complete stranger in their house terrified him. There was no guarantee they wouldn't simply kick him out into the cold streets, practically forcing him to go back to Lima. It was almost certain they would do it, Kurt corrected himself. If he was to go home, he preferred it to be his own decision, not a situation with no other options to choose from.

'I guess I should leave anyway,' he said.

Blaine face became fierce.

'No. You're not leaving. There's going to be a lot of sneaking around required, but I really don't think my parents will notice a new tenant.' He paused for a moment. 'If we're careful.'

Kurt nodded; apparently, there was no convincing Blaine. For some reason, the boy really wanted him to stay. It made him wonder, why it was so. He had a feeling he knew, but decided to ask the question anyway.

'Why do you want me here? I'm just a nuisance.' Kurt shrugged.

Blaine fixed his gaze on the half-empty plate in front of him. He would feel silly, looking into Kurt's eyes as he replied.

'Because I never really had a friend before.'

And in spite of the sad tone in Blaine's voice, Kurt smiled. How was it even possible for two people to know each other so well after a three days acquaintance?