The next morning Kurt woke up in someone else's clothes and in someone else's bed and almost smacked his head on the bedpost in his haste to get out of it. Hectic thoughts of what have I done and who with raced through is head as he dragged on his clothes which thankfully, were neatly folded and placed on the desk in the corner of the room. Which was odd. Surely if he was in for a drunken night of rampant sex with a random stranger neither of them would've had the courtesy to treat designer labels with the respect they deserved?

It was then that Kurt noticed the leather jacket slung over the back of a rickety looking desk chair and the faint smell of paint, cigarette smoke, sandal wood and cinnamon. That. That was Blaine. Everything came flooding back. The drinks, dismantled inhibitions and hazy thoughts. The dancing, rough hands and hot breath. The hallway, distractions and desperation. The apartment, deliciously hot skin and a firm body against his own. A sweet tenderness and a lullaby. All Blaine.

Kurt glanced at the clock on one ramshackle bedside table, it read 8.32 AM. Class started at nine and he really needed to get going. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of turning up to class in clothes that he'd clearly worn the night before but then he thought of Blaine. Had he already left? Was he still asleep?

Kurt decided he better leave anyway and tip toed his way down the hall, peering cautiously around the corner before proceeding. Kurt was halfway across the hardwood floor towards the front door before a voice stopped him.

"Doesn't Mr Lover man aka Blaine Olivia Leonard Andershnaps at least get a kiss goodbye?" Blaine teased lightly, his voice quiet in the morning calm. He was huddled in a corner, watching the rain through the glass panes. Serene and at ease in a worn and oversized emerald green sweater that slipped off his shoulders, the sleeves of which covered hands that grasped a mug of what Kurt assumed was coffee. Blaine absently curled his toes in the material at the bottom of his too long grey slacks as he traced the racing water droplets with tired eyes.

Kurt didn't answer, just watched as Blaine seemed to get lost in himself for a while, glowing in the pale morning sunlight and achingly beautiful. He looked warm despite the occasional shiver and looked as close to content as Kurt had seen him so far.

"Are you feeling alright?" Blaine asked, voice still quiet and soft as he turned to look up at Kurt with tea stained eyes.

"I- yes. I'm so sorry about that. Thank you f-for last night though, it was very sweet of you." Kurt stammered, flushing red in embarrassment as he was reminded of the night prior. "You're welcome." He replied with a small half smile and half hearted wink "It was my pleasure."

Kurt stared down at his hands "Are you not going to class today?" He asked.

"No I'm not, I've got to err sort some things out. But tell me if I miss anything essential okay?"

"Alright," Kurt hesitated "as long as you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Okay."

"Alright."

Kurt crossed the apartment to kneel by Blaine's side. His eyes widened as Kurt leant down and planted a soft, innocent kiss to Blaine's dry and slightly parted lips.

"Goodbye, Blaine."

.oO0Oo.

Blaine spent the entire day in his apartment, too tired and strung out to step outside and face a world that just kept on turning. Everything was so difficult again. Evan just appearing and advancing on Kurt like a hyena cornering its prey sent Blaine back over the edge, clinging on with battered hands and jagged fingernails, desperately trying to haul himself back up. Evan left him wary and tense and so fucking scared again.

He watched the rain fall and the sky clear and fade into a beautiful indigo. Things had slowed to a crawl, like he was seeing the world through a shivering hue, like a smoke screen or from underwater. The hours passed and he felt the world closing in again, with nothing but the rain and Kurt's parting gift to relieve some of its oppression.

He'd said it, the words he vowed he'd never utter again. He'd meant them, always had. Blaine didn't say things that were meaningful if he didn't really mean them. Ti amo, Kurt. Yet that was all it was to Kurt surely, just vibrations, just words, just a different language to him that he'd never understand. Blaine was just an enigma, Kurt's pretty puzzle to solve and slot back together, nothing more.

And that's just what Kurt did, slotted him back together, but everything felt out of place; jostled around and stashed somewhere entirely different. An ache now accompanied the clawing in his chest, a tingle that joined with his itching flesh and a spark entwined with the dull throb in his veins. Kurt contradicted everything Blaine had made of himself, waged a war on his mindset until his very being was battling itself.

Confused and anxious, with a cluttered mind and heavy eyelids he lay awake another night. Thoughts of Kurt clouded him like a child's daydreams as he tried to stay awake and stay away from what awaited him in sleep. So pathetic, he couldn't help but think. The easy exhaustion and how he just broke in front of him. In front of strong, beautiful, brave Kurt.

Blaine didn't have courage. He ran. Dreading shutting his eyes in case they came back to make him feel Jake's clammy hands, Tommy's steel capped boots and Max's class ring. He ran and hid and fucked everything up. Kurt didn't want that. Kurt didn't need that in his life no matter how much he made Blaine need him in what little remained of his.

So Blaine let himself drift again, an artist succumbing to fantasy. Shrouding himself in illusions of a life, a real life with Kurt.