�� Blaine was getting angry. He had been searching for the damn cat for over an hour, and there was still no sign of him. Blaine finished checking out the cafeteria before trudging back to his room in defeat. David was waiting there. He hadn't had any luck either. They had just settled down for a marathon Halo match when a high-pitched scream coming from Wes's room pierced the air.�
�� "Did you hear that?" David asked, already running towards the sound. Blaine nodded, and then sprinted after him.�
�� David had a key to Wes's room. Blaine looked at him skeptically when he took it out.�
�� "Really, David? He gave you his room key?"
�� David looked at Blaine superiorly and said, "Wes and I have a friendship for the ages. In the future, bards will sing of our epic bromance, while you sit alone in a room with Lord Tubbington."
�� "Firstly, I'm pretty sure bards died out around the same time that jousting did-"
�� "JOUSTING WILL NEVER DIE!"
�� Blaine stared a David incredulously, the taller boy nodding in agreement with his own statement.�
�� "Um, alright. Well, maybe we should check up on the mysterious shrieking teenager camping out in Wes's room?"
�� Blaine looked at the key in David's hand pointedly, and then at the door. David shrugged and unlocked the door. Blaine entered the dorm room, and saw the tall boy from Warblers practice sitting on Wes's bed with a Dalton towel wrapped around his waist, and what looked to be half of an avocado mask on his face. He gaped at the gilded cage on the floor, which glinted dimly in the fluorescent lighting.�
�� Blaine was at first too caught up in the dark, purpling bruises covering the boy's torso to notice anything else. �He winced in sympathy, remembering a time when he had similar injuries. Blaine probably would have gone up to the as-of-yet-nameless boy and given him a gentle hug if a smugly self-satisfied "Meow!" hadn't drawn his attention to the obese cat lounging lazily next to Pavarotti's bird cage. The now-deceased Pavarotti's bird cage, if the sunshine yellow feathers in Lord Tubbington's grey fur was any indication.�
�� Blaine was caught between disgust that the cat had murdered Pavarotti, and relief that he had found him. Then, the new kid let out a small squeak before bursting into tears. �Blaine pushed David out of the room, turning to sit next to the kid on Wes's bed.�
�� "Hey, don't worry! It's all ok, we can just replace him. It isn't your fault that that demented cat ate him. "
�� The boy just cried more. Blaine could catch the occasional word between moans before he calmed down enough to speak somewhat coherently.�
�� "He must have snuck in behind me...after Warblers practice. �Oh God! The Warblers! I killed the bird! I'M THE WORST WARBLER EVER!!"
�� Then the boy buried his avocado-y face into Blaine's blazer. He continued to gasp and his body heaved from the force of his sobs. Blaine felt awful. He just wanted to cuddle up with this stranger and tell him that everything was going to be OK, that he would buy this boy a thousand canaries to make him feel better.�
�� Blaine shook off that thought, because it was NOT appropriate to have about a person who's name you don't even know. He just focused on patting the boy's back as gently as he could, until the crying subsided to the occasional sniffle. He shot Lord Tubbington a glare, which the cat responded to with a flick of his tail.�
�� When the cat had finally pranced out of the room, Blaine focused his attention back on the boy.�
�� "Tell you what," Blaine said thoughtfully. "There's a pet store about an hour away from here. We could go and find a new canary, alright?"
�� The boy looked up at him with the most gorgeous blue eyes on Earth. Blaine felt a little part of him melt inside at the sight of them.�
�� "And afterwards," Blaine said, "we can go get coffee. I think some caffeine would be good right now. "
�� The boy smiled softly, and Blaine's heart did cartwheels. �He stood up off the bed�and the boy went to get dressed.�
�� "B-by the way," he cursed himself for stuttering. "my name's Blaine. I'm a Warbler too. " he added.�
�� The boy gave another ever so slight smile.�
�� "It's a pleasure to meet you Blaine. "�
The boy had a high voice (a countertenor, Blaine realized a little breathlessly) that was undeniably beautiful.�
�� "My name is Kurt. "