He's on his way down the stairs, rushing to get to the "impromptu" Warblers performance in the senior commons. In his head he's running through lyrics and steps and getting excited because he loves to perform, loves it more than anything he has found in life so far. He's entirely in his own world, so he doesn't notice the boy in the black jacket at first, even though he should stick out like a sore thumb. His skin doesn't tingle and his heart doesn't leap, and no sixth sense tells him the future is closing in on him, because that's not how the real world works. There's no such thing as destiny, no red string of fate wrapped around his finger to lead him to his soul mate. There are only steps forward, choices made one by one and moments lived.
So he doesn't know that the boy's name is Kurt Hummel, doesn't know he's come here to spy on the Warblers or escape his own problems for a little while. He doesn't know what that soft voice sounds like when it says his name, doesn't know how those eyes can shine when he's happy or flash when he's angry. He has no idea that before Christmas rolls around he'll be thinking of this boy as one of his best friends, be laughing with him over dinner or coffee as many times a week as either of them can make the drive. In half a second, Kurt will take off his sunglasses and tuck them away somewhere in his bag or his jacket, and stop him to ask what's going on. He'll turn, look up, smile and introduce himself. He'll reach out and take Kurt's hand, and it will be a long, long time before he really lets it go. In the meantime there will be inside jokes, and gentle teasing, kisses and arguments, and the feeling of settling in his own skin that only comes with being around people who love you as-is.
He will open up the way he hasn't in a long time, to anybody. He'll step outside his comfort zone for Kurt, face his fears for Kurt, subject himself to the things about the world and about himself that he hates most, the very things he ran to Dalton to escape. Time and time again he'll do it, and gladly, for Kurt and for himself, because Kurt loves him. There will be soft laughter and shy smiles and first touches traded in the dark, hesitant and experimental and, when all is said and done, lightning-bright and perfect. The hands putting away those sunglasses will soothe him and those eyebrows will challenge him. That sweet, quiet smile will light him up from the inside out and make him ache with how much he feels, how much he wants and needs and loves this boy.
When the end comes it will feel like digging out his own heart with a blunt instrument, and every single beautiful memory will hurt like a fresh cut as he sifts through all of them, over and over, in the days and weeks that follow. For one horrible moment when he's home alone-again-on a bleak Saturday night, he will wish he'd never met Kurt Hummel at all, and then burst into tears as soon as he recognizes the thought flying across his mind...because the only thing worse than losing Kurt, he knows, would be never having known him at all.
Blaine Anderson doesn't know any of these things, not yet. A soft voice says "excuse me," and he turns.