Blaine was thoroughly exhausted, and for a number of perfectly adequate reasons. First off, classes had gone by so slowly, literally by the time his third class of Music Theory had barely started he had already glanced at his dark gray Skagen watch a half a dozen times. Secondly, he was subjected - yet again - to another multiple hours of piano tutoring with the same individual as always. He tried so hard to be patient, but with the slow day and constant feeling of her trying to get something out of him - though he had no idea of what - he had to cut the session short at two and a half hours before promptly leaving with an excuse of having to do school work before his usual Thursday performance. It wasn’t a lie necessarily, because as soon as he reached his dorm he shed off his jacket and went straight to his desk, pouring over two papers for his music major classes and another for the random history class he was taking. He managed to finish most of his assignment, his mind still in a haze between the three different topics he was writing on as he changed into a pair of jeans and a plain teal v-neck shirt under his soft leather jacket. Anderson Thursday had been been a bit of a disaster for him, he hadn’t prepared his set list and somehow managed to forget his lucky guitar pick on his desk while in a rush of getting to the coffee shop the usual fifteen minutes before he was supposed to start playing. Of course that didn’t happen, however, and he was in a downright fluster throughout his entire performance. As soon as he was finished with his last song he was nearly pulled off the stage by Jen, who he noticed had been lurking in the background for about an hour, and dragged to the nearest bar for one too many drinks. By the time he finally returned to his room at around eleven he was thoroughly worn-out, feeling slightly deflated from his poor performance and his head was pounding from the number of alcoholic beverages he had consumed. Blaine slipped off his jacket and jeans before climbing into bed in his v-neck and boxer briefs, pulling the covers over himself and fell asleep within minutes.

Kurt had been watching the weather forecast meticulously through out the entire day, catching the forecast on the small television at work during the morning shift he’d picked up. Rain, he could deal with; it gave him excuses to pull out his coat selection and umbrella and test out the waterproofing of his new boots. However, storms were another thing. It had distracted him enough through out the day as he sat through out his lectures, attempting to take notes and yet ultimately sitting with his pen pressed against his lips thoughtfully as he stared in the direction of the lecturer without actually listening at all. It seemed pathetic for him to admit he was afraid, it was a stupid this to be afraid of in the first place and yet he still was. Normally he managed to distract himself enough by finding somewhere to go which was just as loud and dark and would hide him from all evidences. He was aware of how the storms actually effected the city. He was aware of how they affected him when he was left alone. The last one had been quite some time ago and had found him huddled in the corner of the room with his blankets wrapped around his shoulders, crying into his knees and shaking with every flash and every grumble. He’d been petrified ever since he could remember. When he was young he’d curl up on the sofa in his mother’s lap and listen to her sing quietly, rubbing his back and holding him tightly. Kurt didn’t even know why he hated them, but it was just something which he would admit was one thing which make his tough and put together self crumble into a wreck of who he was. Admittedly, he preferred when he had someone there, someone to distract him and tell him everything would be okay. It wasn’t the same when that same person found endless entertainment from his fear, mocking him in his most vulnerable state, making him incredibly self conscious and aware of how he was reacting. It was the same reason that Kurt had decided to curl up in bed after his late class, wearing the sweats Blaine had given him the same night they’d fallen asleep cuddled together on the musician’s small dorm couch - which he’d made a mental note since that day to return alongside the buckeyes tshirt, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so.

When the first flash battled its way through the cracks in Kurt’s curtains, he could see it behind his closed eyelids. It was followed quickly by the rumble which rattled the thin dorm walls, causing him to curl in on himself, pulling the blankets up to his nose and his knees as close to himself as possible, trying to block it out. He had half a mind to call his dad, but he knew that his dad would probably be fast asleep given the hour. The only other person was Blaine and calling someone who wasn’t all that far away seemed insane. Brushing away the tears from his cheeks after the newest rumblr, Kurt quickly got out of the bed, wrapping his robe around himself and slipping his feet into his barely used slippers and perched himself on the base of the bed, his phone poised in his hand. It would be polite to ring him and ask if it was okay for him to come over and talk. But this was Blaine… Surely he wouldn’t mind if Kurt just knocked on his door, would he? As the newest flash of lightening and the loudest rumblr of thunder crashed overhead, Kurt’s mind was made up as he left his phone on his bed and practically ran to Blaine’s dorm, shaking uncontrollably as he huddled against the door, knocking softly so as to not disturb any of the other students who were managing to sleep through the storm. After another flash of light and no sign of Blaine opening the door, Kurt pressed down on the handle softly on a whim closing it quickly behind him as another crack ripped across the sky. The actor shakily leant his back against the door, looking over the dark room in a restless state, eyes locking onto Blaine’s sleeping form as he edged closer, sitting down on the edge of the mattress with a deep breath, kicking his slippers off and peeling his robe from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in his panicked state. Kurt slowly exhaled, shaking his head at how crazy this idea was. It wasn’t fair to wake Blaine up because he was probably exhausted and yet here he was, whimpering at every small noise that was made and closing in on himself.