Blaine breathed slowly as he dragged the razor across his skin, feeling the cold blade cut him open. He opened his eyes briefly to watch the gorgeous stream of blood flow out of his forearm, sliding down. The razor was then hidden away in his drawer and he reached for his stash of tissues. He wiped up the blood before it stained Cooper's bathroom carpet, shivering with relief. 

Rolling the toilet paper up before flushing it, he straightened his sleeves as best as he could and opened the door. He walked over toward the family room and sat down next to Cooper on the couch. Coop smiled up and him and gripped his shoulder gently. Being touched on the shoulder always relaxed Blaine. He would miss this when he was gone, the calming sensation of his brother sitting there. The silence would wash over them and no words needed to be said, they both felt at peace and content with each other.

"Do you think you'd mind if we went out for ice cream with someone after your therapy tomorrow?" Cooper smiled at him as he turned down the volume on the television neither of them were watching.

"No, who is it?" Blaine droned on as he played with the string on the couch underneath him. Blaine thoroughly enjoyed moving fabric between his fingers when he was nervous or purely bored, there was a relaxing feeling that came along with it. Maybe Blaine was meant to be a designer one day.

But he knew that would never happen. 

"This new kid who started at work yesterday. He's about your age, his name is Kurt Hummel. I think you two could become friends or something. I don't know, it sounded like a good idea at the time." 

"Sure, I guess."

And that was it. That was the only words they exchanged the rest of the night. The brothers hugged goodnight and both made their way to their bedrooms. 

Blaine was grateful for Cooper, he loved his brother to death. He didn't want to hurt him, but he knew Cooper would understand, he had too. 

Blaine opened the closet door and grabbed the box from the top shelf. He felt a wave of relief hit him again as he opened it and saw his razorblade shining up at him. Staring at the beautiful tool of bodily destruction in the yellow box marked: "SCARVES." 

He picked it up and made his way over to his bed. Sitting in it cross-legged, he pulled up his sleeves and leaned his head back against the pillows. 

Almost as if mechanically, the razor made it's way to his skin. The contact was cold, but the warm rush of pleasure spread through his veins and instantly urged him to relax.

He pushed slightly into his skin, letting the blood drip out slowly. He didn't want to cut too deep in one night, so he just let it drip out like a fountain. He watched the sprinkle of red liquid pour out of his skin, this was the only beauty Blaine knew.

The only pleasure he would ever experience, the only heaven he'd ever step foot in too. What a sad story this would be, Blaine thought.

As Blaine moved his blade up higher to make another slight slash, he heard the door click open. Instantly panicking, he threw the razor to the ground, recieving a loud clank. As if on instinct, Cooper immediately ran over to the bedside to find Blaine staring up at him wide-eyed.

Cooper stared back down and all he wanted to was ask Why.

Why do you hurt yourself like this? What could make you hate yourself so, little brother?

On the other hand, Blaine just thought how stupid it was of him to forget to lock the door.