I wake up Saturday morning feeling completely and utterly drained. I’ve had a full night’s sleep, but I’m still tired. A few hours into the day it hits me like a freight train. I suddenly realize the gravity of the situation I find myself realizing that I’ve probably lost my parents forever. Blaine notices my sudden change in attitude and he asks if I’m feeling alright. My only response is a shrug of my shoulders. I’m not even sure anymore. I try to convince myself that I can turn this horrible mess into something positive. I try to tell myself that I don’t have to hide anymore and that’s great. But I can’t. I can’t bring myself to believe any of that because, yes, I love spending so much time with Blaine but a part of me just wants to go home. I miss my room. I miss my clothes. I miss my mom’s home cooked meals. Maybe my family was a bit dysfunctional, but they’re still my family and I’m sure my dad loves me, despite the fact that he kicked me out because I was gay. Maybe he was confused. Maybe he was shocked and maybe he’s ready to apologize.

I find myself standing at my front door that night. Blaine doesn’t know I’m here. I half considered asking him for a ride but I decided against it. He would probably try talking me out of it. Either way, this is something I need to do on my own. I need to make things right.

I notice that my hand is shaking when I raise it to ring the door bell. I’m shivering in the cold January air and I know it has very little to do with the weather. I stand in front of the door for about a minute and there’s no answer. I can’t tell if my parents are home or not because they always park their cars in the garage. I notice that my Navigator is missing from it’s usual spot in the driveway and I wonder if my father got rid of it. My stomach drops. I don’t want to believe that. I ring the door bell again and wait another two minutes, but there is no response.

A few minutes later as I’m sitting on a bench waiting for the bus and I’m fighting back my tears.

I just want to go back home.

By the following night I’m settled into the guest room Quinn and Burt have set up for me. The first thing I notice about this house is that it smells really nice. There’s a warmth lingering in the air that’s welcoming and inviting. When Quinn and Burt say their goodnights to me, I find myself carefully unpacking my clothing. I examine each and every piece of clothing as I neatly fold them into an open drawer in the dresser. I’m running out of outfit combinations very quickly and I realize that my friends at school are going to notice and will probably ask questions. Maybe make a joke about it, not realizing what they’re saying will affect me. I sigh as I slam the drawer shut with a little more force that necessary.

I make sure to place the little yellow owl Blaine gave me for Christmas on my nightstand.

I return to the bed where my suitcase is open and carefully go through the little pockets making sure I haven’t missed anything. As I reach into one of the smaller pockets, my finger brushes against cool metal. I grab at it and pull it out to see that it’s a house key. My house key. I stare at it for a few moments as I chew on the inside of my cheek. I walk over to the nightstand were my wallet is sitting and I slip the key inside. It sits there until a week and a half later on a particularly chilly day after school.

I take the bus to my house again. When I step up to the front door my heart is racing. This horrible feeling looms over me and I feel like I’m breaking into somebody else’s home as I slip the key into the lock and turn it.

Both my parents are at work and my mom won’t be home until five o’clock so I have roughly an hour before I have to leave. As I step through the door, my stomach drops as that awful feeling grows stronger. Even though no one is here to say a thing, I don’t feel welcome. There’s this horrible energy locked within this house and I nearly shiver, shrugging off my coat and hanging it up. My steps are silent and light as I make my way up the stairs and there’s this eerie silence in here. I’ve been home alone several times and I’ve been in this house when it’s been quiet but somehow, it feels different now. I go straight to my room and I let out an audible sigh of relief to find that everything is exactly the same as I left it. Part of me wonders if either of my parents have even been in here.

I immediately move over to my bed and collapse in it, burying my face into a pillow. Before I know it, I’m crying. Heaving sobs. I can’t remember the last time I cried this hard. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever cried like this. Ever. I feel so lost and I feel so incredibly empty.

Once my sobbing dies down to little sniffs, I move off of my bed and into my closet. I briefly remember Blaine walking around in here looking at my clothes in awe. A little smile pulls at my mouth as I slowly begin picking up pieces of clothing; the ones I like the most. I’m halfway through shoving the clothes into a backpack I brought with me when I hear the front door slam shut. My eyes go wide and my stomach twists. I glance at my phone to see that it’s only four thirty. Both of my parents are supposed to be at work right now. I suddenly feel nauseous and I don’t know what to do. I briefly consider climbing out the window but I know I can’t make it. There’s absolutely no leverage and if I try to jump I’m sure I will break a bone. I start to panic and my breathing pattern quickens. My heart is racing and I have no idea what to do.

Why did I do this? Why did I come in here? What if that’s my dad? What will he do if he sees me?

I hear footsteps clonking up the stairs.

I notice that the door to my room is half open. It was closed when I got here. And I have no time to shut it. I decide that maybe I should just hide somewhere. Anywhere. I’m about to leap into the closet but before I can move any part of my body the door is swinging open and I see my father.

God, why? Why did it have to be him?

We stare at each other for a long while and I can hear my own heart racing in my ears. My body goes numb and I can’t move. I can’t say anything.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He finally asks and I realize that he’s slurring. He’s been drinking.

“I just--I came to get my clothes. That’s all. I--”

“I told you that you weren’t welcome into my home!” He screams and I flinch letting out a small whimper. I’m terrified of what he might do. I’ve never seen him like this. This is worse than the night he kicked me out. Suddenly, he’s closing the space between us and he grabs at the sleeve of my shirt. Before I can register anything else, I feel myself being hurled against the wall. “How dare you show your face in my home, you little faggot?” He snarls viciously. Now he’s gripping my arm tightly and I cry out in pain.

“Dad, stop it,” I croak. “That hurts. Please.” All I can do is beg because I’m afraid to fight back. He reeks of beer. I have no idea what he’s capable of doing. I don’t even recognize this man. I don’t understand what has happened. Have I done this to him? Is this my fault?

“You thought you were being sneaky, didn’t you? You thought you could come in here after I told you to leave?” he spits.

At this point, I’m crying, trying to pull myself out of his tight grip. I just want to get away. I’ve never felt so cornered and helpless.

He yanks me away from the wall and shoves at me, finally letting me go. I scramble for my backpack and run. I nearly trip down the stairs and yank the door open and I wipe at my tear stained face. Once I’m out of the house, I suddenly realize that I’ve forgotten my coat but at this point I don’t care.

I’ve run a few blocks when I finally stop and sink down onto my knees, utterly exhausted, breaths coming out in quickened puffs. My chest feels tight and it hurts. I try to breathe through my nose to calm my breathing and keep my throat from taking in any more of the bitter air. My body is trembling ferociously at this point and I wonder if my lips have already turned blue. I bite down the urge to cry as I let my head drop. I have trouble processing what just happened and my arm is still throbbing from the tight grip of my father’s hand. My back aches from colliding against the wall. My legs hurt from running so fast.

This is all my fault. I have turned my father into a violent alcoholic.

o~o~o~o

The following morning I wake up with the most awful sore throat and I figure it’s because I spent an hour sitting in the cold weather yesterday. Blaine called me last night, even sent me a text message, but I haven’t responded. I didn’t have it in me to talk to him then because I just know that I would have broken down the moment I heard his voice. As I’m walking through the parking lot, Quinn at my side, my phone begins to ring. As I pull it out, Quinn touches my arm and quietly tells me she’ll see me later as she meets Finn at his car. Finn tosses me a smile and a wave as I return it half heartedly before I glance down at the caller ID to see that it’s Blaine calling. I’m certain that today or tomorrow will be the last day that I’ll even have a phone.

I answer it.

“Hey,” Blaine breathes and I can hear a hint of relief in his voice.

I bite my lip. “Hi.”

“I tried calling last night but I couldn’t get through…”

“I know,” I say quietly. “I was busy.” It’s not a complete lie.

“Oh,” Blaine says slowly. “Well, I was just worried. We were supposed to go--”

“Oh, crap!” I grit out through my teeth as I slap the palm of my hand into my forehead. “Blaine, I’m so sorry.” Blaine had invited me to see a performance of Le Miserable and he bought the tickets in advanced for us. I had been looking forward to it all week and completely forgot about it because of yesterday’s events. I feel even worse now.

“It’s fine,” he says softly. “Are you…are you sure you’re ok, Kurt?” he presses on gently.

I swallow and my throat stings at the action. I can’t lie to Blaine. He’s been so good to me. He’s done so much in such a small amount of time and he doesn’t deserve to be lied to. “No,” I say finally as I step into the school and move off to the side, out of everyone’s way. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” My eyes roam the halls as I talk, watching people walk past, pulling things out of their lockers. “I promise we’ll talk about it later. I’ll call you after school.”

Blaine is silent for a few moments and then he finally speaks. “Alright.”

“I have to go,” I mutter moving away from the wall I’m leaning against and walking to my locker. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Just…take it easy. Please.” There’s so much concern threaded into his voice it almost breaks my heart. I feel like every ounce of gravity is weighing my down as I weave through the students. My feet feel like they weigh a ton and I just want to lie in bed all day and forget the world for a little while. Forget about the fact that I have to pretend like everything is ok around my friends. Forget about the fact that thanks to me, my father is drinking himself stupid. Push away that what-if lingering in the back of my mind. Stop myself from wondering if I just kept my feelings to myself if things would still be ok.

o~o~o~o

This shouldn’t be as hard as it’s proving itself to be. Talking to Blaine has always been so easy for me and I wonder why suddenly it’s become so difficult. I can’t get that look my dad gave me out of my head. I spend the entire day trapped in my own mind, barely paying attention in class. My eyes continuously drift out the window or down onto my desk. At one point, one the teachers demands my attention back to the front of the class. This is something that never happens.

Blaine asks if I want to meet him at the Lima Bean but we settle on going over to his house instead. I’d rather not talk about my personal business in a public place. I feel safer in Blaine’s room and everything in here just smells like him. His cologne blended with the soft scent of clean laundry. I’m sitting on the edge of Blaine’s bed, my shoes neatly set off in the corner of his room. My knees are drawn up to my chest and my arms are wrapped around my legs. Blaine is sitting on his knees on the floor right in front of me.

“Talk to me, Kurt,” he says softly as he reaches up to touch my arm. His hand lingers there until I finally let my eyes fall on him. He’s looking up at me, that gentle concern clouding his eyes.

“I went back to my house yesterday,” I say, voice coming out a little weak. I sniff softly. My cold seems to be getting worse as the day progresses. I was a bit surprised when Blaine immediately noticed once he saw me. He offered me a cup of tea with honey and lemon along with a bit of cold medicine. I couldn’t help but smile. Blaine is so good to me.

Blaine’s eyebrows pull together. “What happened?” he asks in nearly a whisper.

I tell him everything because I want him to know. He should know because I owe him so much. More than he will ever know. He just stares up at me with that little crease on his forehead and his lips slightly parted like he wants to say something. Nothing comes out, though. He just keeps his hand on my arm giving it a gentle squeeze when I start to cry, suddenly. I didn’t expect to cry, honestly. I thought I got it out of my system yesterday.

“Kurt,” Blaine says finally, lifting himself up on his knees a little. He reaches up to wipe at my tear stained cheeks. “Are you ok? Did he hurt you?” His eyes immediately dart to my arm, inspecting it briefly and I shake my head.

“It’s my fault he’s like this,” I whisper brokenly. “If I didn’t…If I just kept it to myself…”

Suddenly, there’s a look that crosses Blaine’s face that I’ve never seen. This pristine boy I’ve grown to know suddenly has this dark, almost angry look on his face as his eyes lock on mine. “Don’t you ever say that, Kurt.” He grabs my hand, lacing his fingers with mine and he holds it tightly. My stomach swoops at the feeling. “You’re perfectly fine the way you are. None of this is your fault. You shouldn’t blame yourself or let someone try and convince you that you’re wrong. Because you’re not.” I break eye contact because my heart is racing and that look in Blaine’s eyes is so intense. I’m not afraid of him. I’ve just never had anyone look at me so…passionately before. Blaine ducks his head to find my eyes again. “Kurt,” he whispers. And I see that softness again. “Talk to me,” he repeats. “What are you thinking right now?”

“That you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” I answer honestly before I can stop myself. No one has ever made me feel the way Blaine does. And no one has tried so hard to convince me that everything about being gay was perfectly fine. Sure, my friends supported me but that was it. It never really went past that.

Blaine blinks, taken aback by my sudden confession but after a moment, he smiles. “Please, don’t do this to yourself, Kurt. I don’t want to see you get hurt…”

I lower my eyes for a moment before nodding silently.

I can feel Blaine watching me and I look up, our eyes lingering. After a few seconds, I sniff before bringing my sleeve up to my nose and laughing. “I’m a mess,” I mutter into the soft fabric closing my eyes that still sting from crying. “How are you even looking at me with a straight face right now?”

Blaine shrugs, face serious as he says, “You look perfect to me.”

My mouth goes dry and my heart stops for a moment. I swallow and rub at my nose before bringing my hand down to lightly push at Blaine’s shoulder. “Shut up, Blaine. Flattery doesn’t work on me,” I say, though I’m pretty sure I’m blushing and I’m almost positive Blaine notices judging from his smile. He slips his hand out of mine and I almost frown at the loss.

“What do you say to Chinese takeout and any movie of your choosing? My treat,” Blaine offers as he stands.

“Usually, I’m against any Chinese takeout food, but today is an exception. Despite the horrifying amount of calories it’s excellent comfort food.”

Blaine laughs softly. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says as he crosses the room and snatches up his phone.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off of him as he dials the number. Or as he orders the food. I also can’t help but notice the way his eyes dart over to me every now and then as he’s placing the order. My heart leaps and I’m sure that tonight, I have fallen helplessly in love with Blaine.