"Kurt! Are you okay?"

Blaine rushes over to him, towards the boy laying on the floor beside the broken glass. He has one hand over his upper calf.

"Blaine. I - I think I cut my leg." He tries to move it. "Shit, I - fuck!"

"Okay, Kurt, okay, um, oh god - uh, just let me see it, and-"

"No!" Kurt cries, and for a moment, Blaine feels taken aback. He stops talking abruptly. "Shit, I'm sorry, Blaine, I just - need to, oh god, ow..." He doesn't remove the hand from his leg.

"Kurt, I think you need to let go of your leg, let me see-"

"Blaine, trust me, I can't."

"Why? Is it stuck?"

Kurt laughs daintily. "No, it just. Um. I just can't."

Blaine begins to feel worried. "Kurt, do you have...a condition? Something, uh - something you don't want me to see?"

Kurt smiles tightly to himself. "I...guess you could say that. Yeah. Yes."

"Why not? You know I love you. I doubt anything I see could change that. You know that, right?"

Kurt looks up at Blaine, looks into his hazel-with-a-hint-of-springtime eyes, and doesn't smile. "Really? You...I don't think you'd want to see this. You'd think I was. I dunno. A freak, or something."

Blaine drops to his knees, amongst the shards of broken glass, ignores Kurt's feeble protests of Blaine, be careful and takes Kurt's face in both of his hands.

"Kurt. Listen to me. I love you."

"But you-"

"I love you. Okay? Nothing, nothing will ever change that. I don't care if you have something on your leg you deem horrific, or whatever. I think - no, I know that it won't, definitely won't, make me love you any less. Got that?"

Kurt's eyes are swimming. Behind the tears, Blaine swears he sees a bright flash of light tear behind one of his pupils. The incandescent, swirling light in them, he's sure, is...wait, what?

Kurt sniffs. "Okay. I'll show you. But - but you need to promise me you won't freak out or anything."

"I promise. Of course I do." Blaine leans in to kiss Kurt on his uncertain chuckle and releases his face, looking back towards Kurt's leg.

Kurt takes a deep breath, and lifts his hand. Blaine forgets how to breathe, to think, to do anything but look, because there's no shard of glass there, no dark scarlet around the wound, no mess. What is there, there is some Kurt's blood, not a lot of it, but Kurt's blood isn't scarlet...

It's - there is no colour that exists to describe it. It looks like it's made of...stars.

Yes. That's what it is.

Pools of swirling pricks of light are evaporating off Kurt's skin, wonderful clouds and veils of cotton-candy colour; greens, light pinks, blues, reds, dark purples that twist gracefully in the air as if joyful to escape. Starling-pelted clusters of lights float amongst them, almost as if they feel safe nestled in the silk-dust, as they rise, before...dwindling into nothingness. The clouds start to evaporate, the colours fade. The last wisp of smoky-blue rolls onto itself and Blaine blinks. And blinks.

Kurt's hand is on his shoulders, shaking him, and Blaine remembers to close his mouth. He's in the middle of his that's impossible train of thought when he realises Kurt's speaking.

"-should never have shown you, my God, I've ruined everything, such an idiot-"

Blaine swallows, eyes still wide, and flies his hand up to join Kurts'. He looks at his face, scrunched up like delicate paper, the lines of worry, the eyes forced shut in distress, and manages to find his voice.

"Kur-" That came out raspy. "Kurt."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry-"

"Kurt."

Kurt stops, opens his eyes slowly to look at Blaine, who stares back, and swallows again. "You are," he begins, places a hand breathlessly on his cheek, "The most." Deep breath. Swallow. "Beautiful thing, that I have ever seen."

Kurt seems startled, as if he's not able to believe it, not able to understand that someone thinks that of him, and Blaine's heart breaks a little bit. So he just looks sincerely at Kurt, and waits for him to understand.

And as he slowly does, Blaine sees the clouds return, to his eyes this time, twirling back into existence in the midst of his irises, tiny stars that blink visible, and the space waltzes in slow circles as Kurt finally, finally, believes him.

Two more shooting stars flick across Kurt's right eye, just before he closes in to press his open laugh to Blaine's waiting lips.

I've found him, he's an angel

with the dust of the stars in his eyes.