Blaine ran down the street, in the pouring rain, unsure of where he was going. He was so confused, he was so angry, he was so fucking lonely, and he felt like he was losing his mind. Peoples’ faces blurred, and he saw nothing but mocking expressions as people parted away from him, isolating him. He had no idea where he was headed, his head was spinning, it was all too much, and there were so many thoughts racing through his mind-
Suddenly he ran head-on into someone and they both fell onto the dirty, wet concrete. His eyes were frantic, his breathing erratic; he hadn’t even registered the fall. Where was he?

“Blaine? Is that you?” a man asked breathlessly, and he looked down at the man he was currently crushing. Blaine barely noticed the tears that were rolling down his face and he broke down, collapsing completely on the man underneath him, grasping and clutching at him and heaving with sobs.

“I d-don’t know-I can’t think-it’s all s-so cluttered-” he sobbed, and there was a pat on his back, a soothing gesture. Blaine shuddered, scared of himself beyond belief.

“It’s okay, Blaine,” the man whispered, hugging him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

~

There was a crash as a chair was knocked over, and the sound of paper ripping and tearing shattered the silence in the previously still house. Blaine stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily. He had stood abruptly, snatching at the papers on his cluttered desk and attacking them with a feverish anger in his eyes.

“Fuck, none of this is right!” he snapped at no one in particular, blood pounding in his ears. His eyes darted around, frenzied, looking for something, anything, anything to get these ideas out of his head-

There was the sound of shuffling, then a light in the hallway flicked on, and a blonde woman stood at the end of it, her eyes wide and alert.

“Blaine?” she called uncertainly, slowly walking towards the room a few doors down.

Abruptly, the curly haired brunette stopped breathing, and looked around him. Why was his room so messy? Why was his chair on the ground? Blaine bent to pick it up, righting it and furrowing his brow in confusion. His chest was heaving, and his fist was shaking. He could feel the anger winding down, but it was still there, bubbling…

There was a tentative knock on the door, and he spun around, staring at the woman who was cautiously leaning against the doorframe. “Blaine, what’s wrong?” she asked quietly, and he looked around him.

The room was messy, but nothing as chaotic as how he was feeling. He ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. He tried to recognize his surroundings. He was in his study, which was in his house, which he shared with…with Hailey, his girlfriend. Why did the word seem to catch a snag in his mind? He tried to smile, and bent down to begin picking up the scraps of paper off the wooden floor.

“Nothing, Hailey, I’m sorry, I just stood up too fast and knocked my chair over.” He tried to sound reassuring, as though he wasn’t internally freaking out, as though he wasn’t silently screaming inside, as if he wasn’t completely losing his mind.

She frowned. “Is the writing not going so good, honey?” she asked sympathetically, and Blaine’s eyes flashed for a second, but then he just looked up at her, giving her a shrug.

“It’s nothing, I just got frustrated. It’s bound to come soon.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute before nodding slowly. “Okay, well, it’s four in the morning. Come to bed.” She turned and he could hear her walking back down the hallway without another word. Blaine crouched there, and stared at a picture on the wall.

“Okay,” he said quietly, standing up, walking out without another word.

~

“…and here he is, the man of the hour; Blaine Anderson!” Finn yelled into a microphone, and the crowd in the auditorium cheered, screaming and clapping in anticipation. Blaine strode onstage, grinning and waving, and the clapping didn’t stop for quite some time, which was fine, since he still had to get himself comfortable at the piano.

He adjusted the mounted mic, and smiled as he spoke. “Hey, Miami, how’s everybody doing tonight?” The response was a mixture of screams, yelled responses, and pure mayhem. He gave the crowd a thumbs-up. “Great! Well, for those of you who have never seen a show before, just a warning; I talk a lot, I sometimes mess up the words, and I swear a bit. Hope that isn’t a problem for anyone?” The answer was the same, and he grinned, genuinely happy. “Then, by all means, enjoy the show!”

He began playing the piano, and the effect was mind-blowing. Blaine Anderson had a talent about him that few others did; he had a way of charming those around him when he was interacting with them, but it didn’t compare to what he could do when he performed. He had a way of connecting with everyone in the audience, a way of making each word personal to everyone, and yet bringing them all together. His voice was melodic and strong, his smile soft and yet overpoweringly happy, his expressions tentative and yet captivating. He was a collage of contradictions, and that was what made him work. He was everyone’s worst and best discrepancy; he was the icon for what united them.

~

“God, your lips feel so good,” Blaine murmured, breathing deeply as kisses were planted down his stomach, then at his hips. His body was covered in sweat, and he shuddered as fingers lightly brushed down his hips towards his slightly throbbing cock.

“You like that?” a voice asked roguishly, a tint of satisfaction in their voice.

“God, yes, please, touch me again Kurt-”

Suddenly a woman’s face shot up away from his hips, a look of disbelief on her slightly glistening face. “Did-did you just call me…Kurt?” Hailey asked in shock, her expression going from confusion to furious anger. A chill went down Blaine’s spine, and wave of guilt swelled inside his chest. He laughed, pulling her up to hug her, stroking her hair reassuringly and kissing her head, but his expression was one of equal horror.

“Of course not, honey, why would I call you Kurt?” He asked, trying to blow it off.

“I swear I heard you say it-”

“You must have misheard me, honey,” he said softly, and after a few minutes of reassurance, they were kissing again, but not for long, because eventually Blaine pulled away, saying he needed to rest for his show again. As they lay there in the dark, Blaine had to stop himself from crying.

For a moment, he had thought that he was there him.

~

“Tough day, huh?”

Blaine looked up so fast it was as if he had been prodded with a taser. “Pardon?” His voice was tired and quiet, as if he hadn’t used it in months. His throat was dry, and he took another shot of whatever he was drinking, trying to get rid of the acid building up.

“I-you just looked like you’ve had a rough day.”

He forced his eyes to look up from the bar, focusing on the man leaning on the counter in front of him. He had brunette hair that was slicked back, although a strand of hair had strayed towards his forehead. He had large, striking blue eyes and porcelain skin. His mouth was set in an understanding smile, and he was cleaning a glass.

Blaine swallowed, hard. He was the most attractive man Blaine had ever seen in his life. He finished his drink, running a hand through his hair. “More like a rough year.” He slurred, tapping the glass with his finger. The bartender filled it and pushed it back to Blaine, who downed it again.

“I’m going to have to stop serving you after a drink or so,” he said, chuckling. “You’ll be completely shit-faced by then.” He held his hand out, and Blaine stared at it. He had soft hands with long, fragile looking fingers. “My name’s Kurt. Kurt Hummel.”

It took forever for Blaine to find where his hand was, but eventually he gathered enough strength to shake his hand.

“Blaine Anderson.”

~

“What the fuck is your problem?” Finn was yelling at him, wiping the blood away from his mouth.

Blaine stepped back, staring at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time, although his eyes were oddly distant. Where was he now? He turned white. An expression of horror spread across his face and he opened his mouth, but no sound came out at first.

His head was spinning as he tried desperately to think back to what had happened to make him so upset. He had just finished performing, and had felt perfectly fine then. People walked by, congratulating him on a great show, and he had just thanked them modestly, heading into his small dressing room just to change his shirt. As he had been taking it off, he had been thinking back on the show. He had sung a few singles, a few songs that were on his other albums, and a cover of something. All the while tough, something had been itching at his head.

This show had felt…different. He had been received with the same amount of warmth as he was every other show, and yet…something was off. Nearly everyone had been singing along. Blaine didn’t quite know why this bothered him so much, and yet it hadn’t stopped nagging at him. ‘So what?’ he had thought to himself as he began slowly walking around the room, forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. ‘People generally sing along when they know the lyrics to a song they hear a lot and like.’

Yet…that was the problem. The songs he had sung, that the crowd had sung along to…they weren’t new. Anger had filled him to the brim, and the next thing he knew, there was an angry Finn glaring at him.

“I-Finn, I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know what came over me…” Blaine stammered breathlessly, his voice shaking.

Finn looked like he was going to retort angrily, but he just sighed and stepped towards Blaine, looking down at the shorter man, clapping him on the shoulder softly. “It’s okay, man. You alright?” Blaine didn’t respond. “You’re probably just stressed. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

Rest was the last thing Blaine Anderson wanted to do.

~

“I’m leaving.” Blaine announced to the back of the chair that Hailey was sitting in, reading peacefully. She turned her neck, looking a bit confused.

“Where are you going?” She asked pleasantly, moving to stand in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling at him. For a moment, he felt a wave of love wash over him for the woman hugging him, but in a moment it was gone, and he was left with nothing.

“New York City. I’m staying there for a while.” He said, and her face fell. She stepped away, and the energy in the room changed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier…”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Blaine?” she snapped, and he flinched at her anger. “You’re leaving, as in, leaving for a long time, and you don’t even fucking ask me? Me? Your girlfriend? Why are you leaving? What’s wrong?” Each question was tipped with poison, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. He was beginning to feel claustrophobic. He needed to leave.

“I-I just need to get out of here for a while.”

”Why? What’s in New York City that isn’t here? Isn’t with me?” She spat, tears springing in her eyes.

“Hailey, it’s not you-” It was. “I just, I just…”

“Just what, Blaine?”

“I can’t think here!” He shouted, and her mouth shut. “I’m losing my mind, Hailey! I haven’t written anything in almost a year and a half-”

“So what?” she asked. “You don’t need to; you’re doing fine!”

“People are talking, Hailey, in case you haven’t noticed!” he said sarcastically, pointing to a magazine on the table. “Everyone’s whispering, saying I’ve lost my touch-”

“You’re being paranoid-”

“I’m going!” he whispered, and Hailey looked more scared of the angrily calm Blaine. “I need to. If I don’t come up with something new, I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.”

“Then I’m coming with you."

~

He let out a cold breath, which turned into a cloud of fog as it left his lips. It was three in the morning, and he was standing in the back parking lot of a bar, jumping up and down, trying to warm up. Suddenly the back door opened, and Kurt walked out, wrapping a scarf around his slim neck. He looked up, and Blaine’s heart swelled at the smile that lit up Kurt’s face.

“Blaine! What the hell are you doing here? It’s freezing!” He asked, trying to sound disapproving, but just smiling as he walked over to Blaine.

“I just wanted to know if I could drive you home, I hate to think of what could happen to you when you walk home alone this late at night…” He replied honestly.

“That’s so nice of you,” Kurt said, standing in front of him, biting his lip. He was quiet for a moment, and then he spoke. “Is that really the only reason you’re waiting for me, though?”

Blaine looked surprised. “Why else would I be?” He asked, his eyebrows rose, although his heart skipped a beat as the man in front of him stepped closer, until their noses were mere inches away from touching.

“I don’t know…I just thought, maybe…” Kurt’s voice got quieter and his cheeks turned light pink. “I just thought, when you said ‘drive me home’, you meant…come home with me.”

It was quiet, and Blaine’s breathing was a little shallow. “I…” He swallowed again, looking down at his shoes. Apprehension began filling his cluttered mind, but they were shoved away by another force, a force that made him look Kurt in the eyes, burning with uncertainty and a longing for acceptance. “Can I? Come home with you, I mean.”

Kurt grabbed Blaine’s hand, and a pang went through his stomach. “I never thought you’d ask.”

~

It had been nearly three months since Blaine had moved to New York City. He had sent his agent a recording of two of the songs he had recently written, and his agent was eager to get him writing more.

"These songs are amazing, Blaine!" His agent raved. "I don't know who or what gave you this sudden onset of inspiration, but who or whatever it is, keep it close, got it?" Blaine looked at the man sitting next to him. "I will."
~

“So, you really are the Blaine Anderson,” Kurt said teasingly, wrapping his hands around his cup of coffee.

They were sitting inside a crowded caf�. It had been a few days since they had first met, and six days since Kurt had asked him to grab some coffee sometime. Blaine had been in New York City for nearly two weeks, and nothing had changed. Hailey was back at the apartment, most likely asleep or watching television, and Blaine had abandoned his attempt to write anything to come hang out with the bartender he was quickly befriending.

Blaine grinned, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. He never drank coffee since it messed up his brain even more than normal. “I suppose I am, although I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” He looked around, and sure enough, people were beginning to stare. He blushed, having never gotten used to the attention he received.

“Well, let’s see, you’re only one of the most talented artists there is…” Kurt began, but Blaine shoved his shoulder playfully.

“Please don’t say that,” He said embarrassedly, wishing his face really wasn’t turning bright pink. “Let’s change the subject; tell me about yourself.”

Kurt leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and looking Blaine in the eyes, blinking. “What should I say?”

“Anything. Anything at all.”

“Well, let’s see…” Kurt leaned back, taking a long drink of his coffee before setting it down, thinking. “I’m finishing up a double major in vocals and English, and I hope to become a teacher one day, my favourite drink is coffee, I love scary movies and shopping, and you’re one of my biggest idols.” He said it all calmly except for the last part, which he rushed in one breath.

Blaine couldn’t help himself. “Why?” he asked in genuine surprise. “I hear this all the time, and yet I don’t understand it.”

“You will never know how much you mean to people, until you realise how much they mean to you.” Kurt said, his expression unreadable.

~

Blaine was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. His hand was flying across the page, and it seemed as though he was trying to kill the paper, and yet the way he wrote made it seem as though he were caressing it. His eyes flicked back and forth, reading and rereading every word, every verse, every chorus, crossing lines out and biting his lip and rewriting more and it seemed nothing could break this frenzy Blaine had been sucked into.

His phone rang, and he ignored it, as if he hadn’t even heard it. After a few more minutes of hectic writing, he abruptly stood, rushing to another desk and slamming the paper down. He began writing out music to it, then promptly snatched his guitar and began strumming, humming and murmuring words under his breath. Although his fingers danced lightly on the strings, his eyes were on fire; and yet, as Hailey walked by the slightly closed door and peaked inside, she had never seen him look happier. She smiled sadly, and she left silently, for once deciding not to say anything to her boyfriend.

When he finally emerged from his room, it was nearly two in the morning. He looked exhausted, but he had a smile on his face, and there was a glow to him. “I did it!” he announced, his voice bursting with pride. “I finally wrote three new songs! They still need some work, but I got the basic layout and lyrics done!” Hailey stood up from the chair by the window she had been reading in, and when she turned to Blaine, he saw that there were tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in sudden alarm, and she stepped up to him, her mouth opening but no sound coming out.

Finally she looked up at him, smiling weakly, and whispered, “I’ve just…I really missed seeing you like this, Blaine.” She kissed his cheek and went to bed, leaving him standing there.

~

Kurt and Blaine were sitting on a park bench, watching the people go by. He nodded what could be considered polite attention, but his mind was elsewhere and it hadn't bothered to tell Blaine where it would be.

"What are you thinking about?" Kurt asked curiously, cocking his head to study the man sitting next to him.

Blaine seemed to snap out of his trance, but his eyes were troubled. "I don't know." He admitted, and he waited for Kurt to raise his eyebrows and ask what he meant, but he just sat there, and Blaine knew that he was listening. He turned away and continued talking. "It's been almost two years since I've written anything new, and there's all this pressure on me to write more, but I can't." His voice was starting to get hectic, pleading at no one in particular. "It's not that I don't want to write, it's that I can't-I physically can't. It's like there's an invisible barrier between the words in my mind and the pen; the ink won't reflect what's going on inside." His hands flew to the sides of his heads, as if his head would explode if he didn't.

He felt Kurt's soft hands gently pry his away, brushing his hair back. "I think, you just need to find something to inspire you." He said softly, and Blaine looked at him, searching his eyes as if Kurt had the answers.

"Where?"

Kurt scooted next to him, looking up at the sky. They were quiet for a minute, and although New York was bustling with screaming children at the park and angry men on their phones and honking cars trying to reach their destination, it seemed oddly quiet around them. Finally Kurt spoke. "You know, when I was in high school, I used to get bullied a lot, because I was the only out gay kid in the town I lived in. I had friends, sure, but no one really understood what I was going through," He blinked, and Blaine could see tears in his eyes. "When I was a junior, I was feeling really depressed one night, and one of my friends randomly emailed me a link to a YouTube video, and...it was you, singing what would become your first hit single. You had just started your freshman year in college, and yet you looked so...mature, so sure of who you are and what you believed in; it moved me. You moved me." He smiled softly at Blaine. "Your music, from then on, kept me smiling. You made me feel like it was okay to be me, and that I was never alone. I guess what I'm trying to say is...when you need the inspiration the most, it'll find you, and when it does, you'll save lives with your music, like you saved mine."

Blaine was speechless. All he could do was stare at Kurt, feeling as though someone had just turned his world upsidown. Something sparked in Blaine's mind, and as he hugged Kurt before running down the street towards his apartment, he knew he had found the inspiration he was looking for.

~

“What’s wrong with me?”

The doctor looked up briefly from his papers, his eyebrow arched in questioning. “Excuse me?”

“I asked what was wrong with me.” Blaine repeated, sitting on the edge of the examination bed, his bare feet a few inches away from the floor. The doctor looked back to his papers, flipping through them for a moment before settling himself onto a stool, looking at Blaine, who was looking at him rather impatiently.

“Well, your physical health is in good condition, although you seem to be losing a considerable amount of weight. Do you eat healthy regularly?”

“Yes.” Blaine lied; he went days without eating or sleeping, simply because he forgot. His brain was always so addled with ideas he couldn’t remember where he was half the time.

“Well, like I said,” the doctor continued, setting his folder down and facing his patient completely now. “Your physical health is fine, but your mental health is…well, it’s understandable. Your IQ is off the charts, as I’m sure you know-”

“So I’ve heard,” Blaine muttered, not at all sounding proud of this fact. Actually, he looked like he was going to cry.

“You’re one of the most iconic musical artist, actor and writer in this nation, perhaps even in the world right now-”

“I wouldn’t say that-”

“And yet, you’re suffering from what appears to be...well, what I can only fathom to be some sort of insanity.”

~

Blaine didn’t know what was going on. One minute Kurt’s showing him his collection of scarves in his room, and the next minute he’s up against a wall with Kurt kissing him. Blaine stood, rigid, but Kurt just kissed him harder, and it was as if he melted, and all of his cluttered thoughts and emotions just…left.

He kissed Kurt back with such fervor that Kurt seemed taken aback for a moment before losing himself in the kiss again. They kissed until Blaine couldn’t breathe, and then Kurt was grinding his hip up against Blaine, and Blaine gasped into Kurt’s kiss as a shock went through his body.

The way Kurt kissed him sent his head spinning. He had kissed a fair amount of girls before, but they never kissed like the man pressing up against him; as though he was trying to become one with Blaine and yet feeling so separated, rough and yet scarily careful, a kissing contradiction.

Blaine ran his hands up the back of Kurt’s shirt, holding him closer as they slowly made their way to Kurt’s bed. They fell on the comforter, and Kurt pulled away from Blaine, their eyes filled with longing. Blaine lifted Kurt’s over his head, and immediately pulled him back on top him, their lips crashing.

Kurt’s hand found it’s way down to Blaine’s hips, where he slowly undid Blaine’s pants, slipping his hand inside. A shudder spread through Blaine’s body and a gasp escaped his flushed lips as Kurt’s delicate fingers brushed over the tip of his hardening cock.

“Oh, god Kurt…” Blaine whispered, as Kurt began stroking his hand up and down against it, finally taking hold of it firmly. His hip jerked into Kurt’s hand as he began rubbing it, and they were still kissing, Blaine’s tongue fighting against Kurt’s as if it were a war. “Jesus, Kurt, please…” He moaned, and Kurt started jerking him off faster, and Blaine couldn’t speak.

“I wonder what you taste like.” Kurt whispered, and he pulled away from Blaine’s lips, making his way down Blaine’s stomach, pulling Blaine’s pants down and kissing the area right below his hips.

Suddenly, Blaine remembered who he was with, and he panicked, wiggling away from Kurt, who looked at him, a little injured and confused.

“Wait, what’s going on? Where are you going?”

“I-I have to go!” He stammered, his voice sounding as though it was going to break as he fixed his pants. His erection ached, and he wanted nothing more than to run back to Kurt right now. “I have a girlfriend and we’ve been together for almost three years.” Kurt stared up at him from the bed, looking adorable with his cheeks flushed and his hair messy and sweat beading on his pale neck.

“Don’t you like me?” Kurt whispered, looking at him sadly.

Blaine gazed at him longingly. “Kurt, I like you, a lot. You’ve become my best friend, which is why I’m so confused, because when I look at my girlfriend, I don’t feel anything; yet when I look at you, I feel as though I could sing for hours.” His voice cracked, and guilt overpowered his mind, and he could barely think straight. “You’re the only person that I can think around Kurt. You’ve given me inspiration no one’s given me before, you’ve made the past three months amazing. I don’t feel crazy around you, I can remember who I am and where I am and why I am, when I’m around you. But I don’t know if I can do this, I-if I can stay here.” His mind was starting to drift away, and he snatched at it helplessly. He didn’t want to be alone again.

Blaine suddenly felt Kurt close to him, and he felt the other mans’ lips brush against his ear as he held him close.

“Stay, Blaine; sing with me.” Kurt's hands wrapped around Blaine's neck, and he could feel his heartbeat against his own.

He moved away from Kurt, tears burning in his eyes. “I can’t, Kurt! I just…I don’t know what to do.” He opened the door and ran out, slamming it shut, and Kurt stood there for almost an hour, staring at it, wondering if it would ever open for him again.

~

Blaine burst through the door, shutting it quickly and leaning against it, breathing heavily. He had driven here so fast he was sure the police wouldn’t have been able to catch him if they tried. He heard Hailey walk down the hallway, and he couldn’t look at her. She looked at him suspiciously, seeing his ruffled hair and slightly red lips.

“Why do you look so guilty?” She asked, and Blaine wished he could just make everything disappear. His mind was starting to become cluttered. He tried to search for the right words, but she was already speaking again. “Were you with her again?” She said in an accusatory tone, and Blaine looked at her in confusion.

“Who are you talking about?” He asked, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“The girl you’ve been sneaking around to hang out with for the past three months! The girl that you’ve been spending time with when you should have been spending time with me! The girl that gave you your damn inspiration back when I should have given it to you!” By the time she had finished, she was yelling through angry tears, and he knew he should want to go kiss her and reassure her, but all he wanted to do was get all of these fucking thoughts out of his head.

“Hailey, there’s no girl-”

“Bullshit!”

“I didn’t cheat on you with a girl!” He snapped, flaring up at her accusation.

She shut her mouth, looking taken aback. She frowned, looking thoroughly bewildered. “Then…who have you been hanging out with?” Her lip quivered, and a pang of pity went through Blaine’s chest.

“I…” Memories flood his vision. Of Kurt laughing, of him spilling his drink all over his new jeans, of Kurt tearing up as he confided in Blaine about his high school experiences, of his striking blue eyes. "His name is Kurt."

It was silent. She laughed humourlessly. “Wait…so, the person who’s given you your inspiration back, the person that you’ve been seeing every day, the person who’s changed you…is a man?” She threw her hands in the air. “What the fuck, Blaine? What the actual fuck?” Her words hit him like slaps on the face. “I followed you here, Blaine! I stuck with you, through everything, even though you’ve been losing your fucking mind, and this is how you repay me?”

"I didn't ask you to follow me!" He yelled back. "I tried to leave by myself, but you made the choice to come with me; I didn't twist your arm onto the plane!"

"You didn't stop me from coming either!" She shouted back. She stood there, just breathing heavily and angrily, furious tears streaming down her cheeks. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she just shook her head. “Just go, Blaine! You don’t want to be here anyway, so go!”

She pushed him, and he hurried back out the door, his mind going hazy. Where was he?

~

Blaine ran down the street, in the pouring rain, unsure of where he was going. He was so confused, he was so angry, he was so fucking lonely, and he felt like he was loosing his mind. Peoples’ faces blurred, and he saw nothing but mocking expressions as people parted away from him, isolating him. He had no idea where he was headed, his head was spinning, it was all too much, and there was just so much going on in his mind-

Suddenly he ran head-on into someone and they both fell onto the dirty, wet concrete. His eyes were frantic, his breathing erratic; he hadn’t even registered the fall. Where was he?

“Blaine? Is that you?” a man asked breathlessly, and he looked down at the man he was currently crushing. Blaine barely noticed the tears that were rolling down his face and he broke down, collapsing completely on the man underneath him, grasping and clutching at him and heaving with sobs.

“I d-don’t know-I can’t think-it’s all s-so cluttered-” he sobbed, and there was a pat on his back, a soothing gesture. Blaine shuddered, scared of himself beyond belief.

“It’s okay, Blaine,” Kurt whispered, hugging him as his own tears fell down his cheek. “It’s gonna be okay.”