"May I be excused?" Blaine asked quietly, avoiding the eyes of his parents.
He heard a sigh. "You may."
Blaine rose from his chair and left the dining table silently, managing to hold back his tears until he had reached the stairs. If his father had seen him, no doubt he would have made a vicious comment about Kurt or his lack of masculinity. If his mother had seen him, goodness knows what would have happened; she already felt guilty, and still felt partial to a glass of wine in more disastrous situations. No, he couldn't let either happen.
When Blaine reached his room, he ensured the door was firmly shut behind him before practically throwing himself onto the unmade bed. He buried is face into the nearest pillow, finally allowing the sobs to escape. His shoulders shook as his lungs struggled for breath. His whole chest ached, unable to control the raw emotions coursing through him. His head throbbed as it tried to keep up with each thought that flickered through his mind. This couldn't be happening.
They were moving. Next month. To the UK.
Blaine's father was the CEO of a rather large global company, which happened to be failing, almost to the point of bankruptcy. His father had been stressed for weeks, trying to find solutions to try and reduce costs while increasing sales; almost an impossible task at this stage. The firm was on the brink of closing down, taking all of its employees with it, until what some would call a "miracle" happened.
Their branch in London was doing particularly well, but had the potential to be greater and more successful. It could effectively save the entire company from being wiped out completely. Except they lacked management skills, so their horizons were limited. They called Blaine's father, who - fearful of his current job and not wanting to lose the size of current pay check - accepted, without consulting anyone else.
Blaine had to join him. He was barely a junior, and his relatives weren't as accepting of him as he had first hoped, so he couldn't stay in the US. He tried asking if it were possible if he could stay with Cooper, so he could at least get his diploma, but to no avail. His father insisted that he would be burdening his brother, who "wouldn't want a kid interrupting his luxurious lifestyle".
He had to leave everything he knew behind. They would be selling their home, taking only their sentimental possessions with them to a home the company would be providing. He would have to say leave the town he has spent the past 17 years in, which was spent building friendships and making memories. He would have to say goodbye to his friends, who have supported him unconditionally. And Kurt. He would have to say goodbye to the person that he loved. The person who knew him better than his own family. The person that knew when he was upset, even before he himself realised it. The person who encouraged his dreams and was helping him onto the right path.
Blaine rolled onto his side and pulled his phone from his pocket, desperate for distractions. His fingers shook slightly as he checked the messages that were sent during The Talk.
Blaine, do you still have that list of songs that we performed at Six Flags? Nick is adamant that we did a Beatles number and has started an argument about it.
Challenge accepted. I'll do it on Monday at lunch, so keep your eyes peeled!
Do you have sheet music for any Rent numbers?!
Sorry, Friday Dinner lasted longer than usual. So, what is the general movie theme going to be for tomorrow? :)x
Blaine tried taking deep breaths as he set out typing the replies. He was somewhat calmed by the normality of texting friends, so he took the opportunity to adjust his breathing to a more normal rate. At least this might not change. No matter where he was, he could still message or Skype people.
As he reopened Kurt's message, his fingers hovered over the screen. What would tomorrow's theme be? He had originally planned for it to be filled with romantic comedies, popcorn and cuddles, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of watching other eventual relationship successes, just when his was about to start falling into an inevitable pit of heartbreak. He had to think of a new theme.
After a few moments of thought, Blaine eventually tapped out a response. He then tucked his phone under his pillow, tugged his quilt up to his chin and began cycle of tormenting thoughts, until sleep finally took pity upon him.
The only thing in Blaine's vision was a light, far off into the distance. That was it. Silence and darkness. Something wrapped tightly around his body, suffocating him. He froze, feeling the tendrils of the feared unknown slither around his neck, tightening with every breath he took. It blew cold air down his spine, raising goose bumps as Blaine's eyes automatically shut tightly. If he could ignore it, it would go away.
It didn't work. If anything, it only angered the thing more. His head started pounding. He still felt constricted, yet he now had a sensation of falling. And fast. His heart was thumping and his mind was screaming at him to open his eyes; to face the thing and fight back. He couldn't. He just kept falling, his lungs continued to burn and the thing kept tightening.
A piercing scream sounded in the distance.
Blaine's eyes snapped open in recognition, feeling his feet back on solid ground. The thing loosened and crawled away from him as a surge of adrenalin pumped through his veins, causing him to sprint forwards towards the noise; to the now flickering source of light.
"Kurt!" Blaine yelled, praying that he was running fast enough. "I'm coming!"
As he neared, Blaine could make out the image of a park bench in a circular pool of light. Just in front of it was a body, facing away and curled onto its side. Kurt. His mind raced through some of the reasons why his boyfriend might be on the floor like that: thugs, a hate crime, illness, or devastation. Whatever it was, it had affected him badly.
"Kurt?" Blaine asked as he came to an abrupt halt, practically throwing himself on the floor next to the boy. "Kurt, I'm here now. What happened?"
He rubbed Kurt's back gently with one hand, using the other to try and ease Kurt's head up so he could look for any harm. He moved willingly, and to Blaine's relief, he was seemingly unharmed. However, the boy was still silent. His eyes were cold and emotionless, staring blanking ahead of him.
"Hey," Blaine murmured, shifting so that he was mostly lying down next to Kurt, propped up by his elbow. "What happened? Did someone do this to you?"
After a few seconds, Kurt gave a slight nod of his head.
"Who did this?"
At this point, Kurt finally looked up into Blaine's eyes. And oh, how Blaine wished he hadn't. They burned with more ferocity than Blaine thought was possible, agony and hatred relentlessly building. Kurt's gravelly voice uttered one word: "You."
In that moment, everything stopped. Blaine's voice got caught in his throat, his heart skipping a beat. The light stopped flashing, casting menacing shadows on the other boy's face, intensifying the viciousness that remained. In that moment, realisation crashed through Blaine at an alarming right. The moment became much more than a moment, much longer and drawn out than any he had ever experienced. It was excruciating. Then, as time began to quicken, and the light began blinking once more, it happened.
"You did this to me." His voice was icy, lathered with conviction.
"No," Blaine mumbled, eyes beginning to well as he swiftly stood and began backing away slowly. "No, I—I couldn't have. I mean, I didn't want to..."
"You did this to me, Blaine!" Kurt began screaming, yet he didn't move. He lay there, glaring at the place Blaine had just been, repeating himself over and over: "You did this to me!"
Blaine turned away from the boy and did the only thing his body would allow. Run.
He thought he'd be able to escape; to get away from the damage he'd caused. It was impossible. With every step he took, every breath that was drawn out from him, the screams got louder. The darkness began to envelope him in its overwhelming embrace once more, tiring his limbs and tightening around his chest.
Eventually, he had to stop.
He fell to his knees and pressed his hands against his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried ignoring it all. He couldn't. He opened his mouth and used what little remaining energy he had left to shout. He yelled his apologies to Kurt. He begged for the pain to stop. He pleaded with the unknown to release him from its grasp. He screamed for the loss of his sanity.
He was awakened by a shout, quickly followed by the familiar feeling of cold water on his face. He jolted into an upright position, head butting something as he did so.
"What..." Blaine grumbled, rubbing his forehead and blinking excess water from his eyes. "What's going on?"
Blaine looked up to see Kurt frozen in place at his bedside, gaze alternating between Blaine and the empty glass he was holding. He looked mostly guilty, except Blaine could just about make out the corners of his lips twitching every few seconds. He estimated that it had something to do with that fact that Blaine probably closely resembled a drowned rat.
It was just a dream.
Blaine's face crumpled as he caught Kurt's waist and pulled him down on top of him, barely taking note of Kurt's surprised hum. He pressed his lips against Kurt's, releasing all of the love and adoration he had for him. His hand became tangled in the boy's soft hair while his other arm slipped around his waist, trying to pull him impossibly closer as he revelled in the warmth of the other body.
"Blaine," Kurt mumbled eventually. "I really enjoyed the spontaneity, but we need to stop for a moment."
The shorter boy sighed, reluctantly pulling away. He wrapped both arms around the other boy's waist and gently shifted so that they were both lying more comfortably on their side. Kurt automatically started playing with the hair at the nape of Blaine's neck, causing him to sigh and let his eyes fall close.
"I tried calling this morning, but you didn't answer your phone. When I came over, your mom answered the door and sent me straight up to wake you," Kurt explained. "You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you, so I was on my phone for a while. Then you started mumbling about something, and you wouldn't stop turning. I tried calling you and shaking you, but you weren't waking up; hence the water. Sorry about that, by the way."
Blaine allowed himself a small smile as he nuzzled his nose against Kurt's. "It's okay; I needed to wash my face anyway."
"I suppose, yeah. But..." Kurt hesitated. "What were you dreaming about?"
Blaine pushed away the recollection of thoughts before they could fully surface. Remembering it would just be like reliving it all over again, and he couldn't handle that right now.
"Nothing of importance."
"Are you sure?" Kurt murmured, curiosity tainting his voice.
Blaine sighed gently and opened his eyes. "In my dream, I wasn't being a very good boyfriend."
It was a slight surprise when Kurt suddenly kissed him. It wasn't desperate like how Blaine had kissed him earlier, but soft and lingering. It was the sort of kiss that was usually able to take away Blaine's problems, or at the very least reassure them that everything was going to be okay. It didn't quite have the same effect, but Blaine managed to feel a little better regardless.
"Impossible," Kurt whispered, innocent eyes gazing into his. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Even about nightmares."
Blaine paused. He could tell him right now. He could tell him that he was moving, and that they only had twenty nine days left to spend with each other. They could get the emotional part out of the way now, and make sure every moment they spent together now was spent wisely. They could have the sweet goodbye, promises of keeping in touch.
Or he could keep it to himself for a little longer. Telling Kurt now would result in an emotional talk, which would be easier to get over with sooner, but what about afterwards? Every moment would be tainted with sadness. Every time they would see each other, they would be reminded that they only had a limited amount of time left together, and Blaine didn't want that. He wanted the normality of their relationship that they'd had so far: taking things as they come, having their weekly movie night, calling each other late at night, getting coffee every Friday morning before school, spending lunch with everyone before sneaking off for a moment alone before class started. He didn't want that to change.
"Sure," Blaine grinned, leaning forward to peck his lips once more before untangling them and standing up. "Let me freshen up, and we can get this Harry Potter marathon started."
Thanks for reading! You've gotten this far, so I applaud you. This was written late at night; I was very tired, but wanted to write it before I lost my muse. There will probably be about two more chapters, the next one to be published around June due to exams. If I forget, and you'd like an update, please remind me on tumblr (sittinginawheel).