“So...” I say sipping my coffee, my eyes not leaving him. We’ve been sitting here in silence for about 5 minutes now and I’m starting to feel quite uncomfortable. He said he wanted to talk and now he’s not talking, if you don’t count in the small chat we had about the musical when we were queuing. “This is not awkward at all.” I say, trying to lighten up the mood. He only seems to get more uncomfortable. Great move, Kurt.

“Yeah...uhm...it’s harder than I thought it’d be.” He admits.

“Uhm...okay. So...er...yeah...Blaine if I’m honest, I really don’t know what to say. I mean, I thought you hated me and then I find out you don’t and I don’t know, it’s just confusing.”

“Kurt, I’m sorry again. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did.”

“So you keep saying but...then why did you?” I frown.

He nervously picks his cup while avoiding eye contact. “I guess I was just kind of jealous, mad even, that you could just walk the halls and people know about you being gay and you don’t care about it, whereas if people were to know tha...“

“Wait!” I whisper in shock, “You’re gay?”

“I thought you knew.” He says, seeming really surprised, “how did you not know?”

“I don’t know...,” I say with honest surprise, “I usually have a pretty good gaydar.” I mutter, making him laugh, “I had no clue.” I admit, ignoring the small feeling of hope forming in the back of my mind and my tightening chest.

“Blaine ‘the gaydar misleader’ Anderson.” He says, looking smug, “I should get that printed on cards.” He chuckles.

“Definitely!” I agree. We share a smile and chuckle as we repeat what’s been said. I’m still surprised about what he just told me, “you know...what you said...that day...?” I pause, he nods and I continue, “what was all that about?”

“It’s complicated,” he mumbles.

“I’m not that stupid.”

He smiles at my remark. I see how he’s hesitant at first, he lets out a deep sigh “It’s just that when I was younger, I was more like you. More careless. But I was also naive and stupid. I was weak and got mistreated. Seeing you just reminded me of all of that. Reminded me of some awful things that happened in my life.”

“So what? You figured treating me badly would help?” I say feeling irritated, “last year was hard enough on me! I don’t need you to make this year miserable, too.” I spit.

“What do you mean, last year?” he asks confused, and I might be mistaken but I think I see a glint of worry in his eyes.

I shake my head. “Leave it.”

“Kurt, what happened?” his face much softer now, “Please.”

I bite my lip but sigh, “I got bullied to death last year, like...so badly,” I swallow, “there were days where I didn’t want to get up anymore. Wishing I could just disappear. I was close to giving up.” I explain.

He doesn’t say anything and just looks at me. I find it hard to keep eye contact with him, feeling so fragile at the moment. I start to feel quite uncomfortable, was I wrong to tell him that?

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

I shrug. “It’s not like I’m not used to things like that.” I snort.  He just sits there and silently looks at me. His deep chocolate brown eyes in which I feel like I’m drowning in. It’s like he’s staring right in my soul and I feel even more vulnerable now. His presence is strong but not dominant like before, and I somehow feel kind of safe, “er...after my dad died...er...my mum was really sad and depressed. I was only eight and tried my best to help her but it didn’t work...I...she...,” I sigh, “so...I was fourteen when I came out and it all turned bad. She screamed at me that I made her sick, that I was disgusting, that I had to change. She...er...she kicked me out. I didn’t have any family living close or willing to take me in...so I’ve kind of been on my own since then. I was lucky enough to meet Rachel and she took me in her house for a little bit until I got my own flat. It’s been hard though, you know...how’re you supposed to feel worth something when you’ve been told about ten times a day that you’re not...”

I abruptly stop, realizing I’ve just told him one of my deepest secrets. No one but Rachel and her family knows about it, not even Finn. Finn just thinks that I’m independent. I bite the inside of my cheek. I didn’t really plan on telling him all this but now that I had, it actually feels quite nice. I can’t explain why, I don’t think I would’ve expected it myself, especially after everything he’s done to me. But...I feel like he, out of everyone, will understand me.

“And your mum?” he asks softly. It seems as if he didn’t actually want to disturb my train of thoughts.

“Two years ago I went back to the house but it was sold to another family.” I swallow.  “She moved, I don’t know where she is.” I say, hurt.

I swallow roughly, avoiding any eye contact. I don’t want him to see me so close to tears. Feeling my mouth twitch and my eyes sting as I fight back the tears. When I finally feel that I am able to compose myself, I look up. His eyes are soft and friendly. I feel weirdly relieved in a way but also a little bit uncomfortable, not sure if it was smart of me to tell him all this. We stare at each other in a long silence.

“Thank you.” He says.

I stare at him open mouthed. “What for?”

“Trusting me with that.” He softly smiles.

I smile back and feel quite relieved but I also feel like he didn’t actually tell me why he wanted to talk to me, considering I did most of the talking.