Kurt Hummel had always thought that he was alone. He didn't have very many friends, and the ones he did have were way too caught up in themselves to ever even notice that he was feeling down. Every single night since the day his mother died, Kurt would climb out his bedroom window with a candle and his soft grey blanket and sit on the slope of his roof. It was like his safe haven. It was the one place in the entire world where nobody could touch him. There were no bullies to harass him, no strangers to look at him with disgust, just him and his thoughts. It was peaceful, but it was lonely.

He lived in a strange little house, one that was a little crooked but warm and inviting. It reminded Kurt of his father's personality. The part of the roof that was just outside his bedroom was tilted slightly, close enough to the roof of the house next door that Kurt could easily step right on over and sit there if he really wanted to. But he didn't really want to; no he was fine where he was. Besides, nobody lived in that house, nobody had for ages, so he really didn't see the point in it.

It was a little chilly that particular night. Kurt had to brink his thick blanket and a bigger candle to his spot on the roof. He climbed though his window, and then turned around to grab the candle and blanket. Sitting back on his haunches, he smiled slightly.

"Oh no!" Kurt gasped when his candle suddenly flickered out. He had forgotten to bring extra matches.

"Damn it I forgot matches!" He cursed at himself, getting ready to wiggle his way back in.

"You can use one of mine," a soft voice called from behind him.

Whipping around, Kurt came face to face with the prettiest honey colored eyes he'd ever seen. They were a little bloodshot, and a little puffy as if he had been recently crying.

"I'm Blaine Anderson," the boy whispered, pushing a piece of hair that had escaped the confines of his gelled hair back up onto his head, and then extending his hand.

Kurt took his hand, still wide eyed and a little shocked.

"Kurt Hummel," he answered simply.

"It's nice to meet you Kurt. I just moved here with my parents. They're- they're inside, asleep I'm sure by now. I uhm, here," Blaine stumbled over himself adorably, flicking a match and lighting Kurt's candle.

"Light my candle," Kurt whisper sang quietly, unable to help himself.

The responding smile he received from Blaine could have powered a city.

"Rent is one of my favorites," the smaller boy explained, "Right after Wicked of course."

"A man after my own heart I see," Kurt replied, trying to stay cool in the wake of this absolutely stunning boy who hadn't cringed away from him yet.

Blaine smiled, and nodded, sitting back down on his side.

"I'm sorry if I'm invading your space," Blaine whispered after a minute, looking up at Kurt through his long eyelashes, "I can find somewhere else. I just- I really needed to get away."

"No. No don't go!" Kurt said, his voice raising an octave.

Blaine stopped his nervous shifting around, and looked at Kurt with a questioning raised eyebrow.

"I mean," Kurt started, his eyes softening, "I know- I know how you feel. Needing to get away and all. I feel that every day. That's why I come up here every night. But, it gets a little lonely, you know? Maybe we- you and me- we could try and get away together," Kurt trailed off whispering trying to fight the blush high on his cheeks.

When he finally looked back into Blaine's eyes, he could have sworn they were the color of melted gold.

"I'd love that," he whispered, reaching for Kurt's hand and interlocking their fingers, "I'd love to get away with you."