He hadn't eaten in two days. That was pretty normal for him, as he never ate unless his parents were there or he was at school. And it was summer now, so he often went days without food. But this time it was different. This time he was surrounded by people—no, he was surrounded by his friends. Kurt was there by his side. He felt more comfortable than he had in months. And there was food everywhere. Chips and pop and candy and cake. He hadn't expected any of this. But he was so, so grateful that they had all cared enough to throw him a surprise party.

So when he took the first slice of cake, he didn't feel guilty. It was his birthday. He was allowed to have a slice of cake. When he was finished, he picked up another. And then he couldn't stop himself. He just kept eating, and eating. He hadn't even noticed Kurt was no longer by his side until he reappeared.

"Blaine, you're going to make yourself sick with all that food."

That was when the guilt hit him.

He and Kurt were still so new. They had only just seen each other shirtless. What if he got fat? Would Kurt still want him? That hadn't been a concern before. The way he ate used to just be about having control in one part of his life. Not that he hadn't ever thought of it this way; he liked the way not eating made his body look. He was short, and every pound weighed more heavily on his small figure. And if he wanted a boyfriend—wanted to keep his boyfriend in this case—he had to look his best. And he liked feeling hungry. Feeling hungry made him feel less lonely; less hurt about the fact that his parents hadn't bothered to call, hadn't bothered to come home.

So now he was poised over the toilet, just like he always was after slipups like this. He breathed heavily from the effort of puking his guts out. It had been easier this time, probably due to the magnitude of his mistake. He had been feeling sick since he had started in on the chips, but at the time it had felt too good, indulging like that, felt too good to notice the pains in his stomach. The only way this time really differed from the others was that this time he was at Kurt's. Instead of his bathroom at home, or the ensuite bath in his dorm room at Dalton, he was crouched on the cold tile of the Hudmel's first floor lavatory. The door opened and closed, and suddenly he felt a warm body embracing him. Kurt. He dabbed his face with a wet cloth and whispered in his ear:

Everything's alright honey. I sent everyone home. Dad said you can stay here tonight. I love you.

And then everything seemed okay. There had been no real damage done. Kurt hadn't figured anything out and he hadn't been mad. Everything would go back to normal.

Except it didn't. Blaine found himself overeating more and more. Kurt made him too comfortable, but also too insecure. He was dating the most gorgeous boy he had ever seen, he needed to be as perfect as he could. So after every binge, he purged, but then he started to get reckless.

It was after dinner at Kurt's. He had eaten his fill, which was quite a bit, considering he had gone the last three days without food. It wasn't seen as odd though, even he didn't eat as much as Finn. Burt and Carole just thought he was another ravenous teenage boy. When he excused himself, he didn't hear Kurt follow. He didn't close the door properly.

"Blaine, are you okay? I heard—"

A look of realization made its way onto Kurt's beautiful face.

"At your party—?"

Blaine nodded. He wasn't sure how to feel. He knew he should feel ashamed, and he did feel a bit embarrassed, but not about what he did. Blaine was embarrassed about being caught.

"I don't know why you're doing this, but you don't have to. If this is about me, about us—"

Blaine walked right by Kurt, out of the bathroom and out of the house. He didn't talk to him for a week. His phone was filled with text messages about needing to talk and countless others he hadn't bothered to read. But there was one he kept open quite often. It simply read I still love you.

But he didn't need Kurt. Kurt would make him eat. And Blaine needed his hunger. He didn't know what to do without it. He didn't know how to cope without it.

It was on the eighth day that Kurt came to his house. He didn't bring food with him, or a doctor, or anything at all. The moment Blaine opened the door he ran to him and kissed him harder than ever. And as they migrated to the living room couch, Blaine felt a new kind of hunger.

Maybe, just maybe, this new hunger could replace the old one.