A/N: Why, hello there. I'm Kaz and this is my latest work of fiction.

So, this is based half off of a prompt from the awesome bonerfloozy of tumblr, half off of a story that I was going to try to write and publish myself. So yeah.

Basically it's set in a futuristic world where people have been brainwashed into believing that people with blue eyes are more important than those with green eyes and that those with brown eyes are less than human.

I really hope you do enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

:)

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. But I wish I did.

Blaine Anderson didn't know why his mother was so insistent he go play outside the village that day, but at nine years old, he didn't really need telling twice.

In hindsight, he could remember the shaking hands she wrung together anxiously, the slight quaver in her voice as she ran through the usual concerned-mother's list of things he would need for the day, the excessive packed lunch, her unusually tight embrace as she said goodbye. At the time, however, it hadn't fazed the young boy much. He had been far more concerned with the adventure that lay beyond the village limits.

Blaine loved his village, but he knew he wasn't really a part of it. He couldn't explain it. Being the friendly child he was, he longed to see the best in everyone, but he knew villagers looked at him differently to how they looked at the other village children, because Blaine knew he looked different to how they looked. Villagers would stare and whisper amongst themselves and it made Blaine uncomfortable. Any time away from their questioning and silently judgemental eyes was welcome.

But it was more than just that. For him the world beyond village limits was a vast expanse of wonders yet to be discovered; the world beyond his village was fresh and exciting and, for reasons he couldn't understand, safe.

His love for the open world may also have had something to do with the discovery of the books.

He remembered the day clearly. It was one of the first times he had ever been beyond the limits of the village and in the excitement of the moment, he found himself wandering further than his mother had said he was allowed to go. Before he really stopped to think about where he was going, or indeed how he would get back, he found himself walking deeper and deeper into the forest that neighboured the village. Far from being concerned about the unfamiliar surroundings, Blaine sat down and unpacked the small package of bread his mother had packed into his satchel for his lunch. The overwhelming calmness of the forest overtook him. It was in complete contrast to the business of the dank and dirty village – a welcome change.

And that was when he saw them - a small number of them in a neat pile at the base of a large pine tree.

Bread forgotten, Blaine had crossed over to the tree to pick up one from the top of the pile to see what it was. His heart raced. He had no idea what it was but for the first time he felt completely at peace with something. It felt like an extension of his soul, something connecting him to the world he was really a part of.

With difficulty he picked the small pile up and carried it over to where he had been sitting. Upon closer inspection, he realised they were not as simple as they appeared to be. They had complex lines and shapes that he assumed had some meaning, but not understanding how to go about deciphering them, he knew he wouldn't be able to glean much more from scrutinizing them. Instead he focussed his attention on a few that contained predominantly pictures and he used the bright illustrations to draw conclusions as to what it was trying to communicate.

Blaine felt that he had discovered something truly amazing. The people of the village were fond of storytelling and would often use them as a means of teaching and passing on important information, but he had never seen anything like this - a story on something permanent, something that wouldn't fade into the surrounding air or into memory.

He had been careful to mark the path that led to the small enclosure so that when he was allowed out of village limits again, he would be able to find them. Sure enough, every time he returned there was a new pile of books waiting to be read. As time went on he noticed that the pile was made up of more and more picture books until eventually there were no thick, heavy, complex books. Blaine wished that he could tell whoever was leaving the books that as much as he loved the picture books, there was a comfort in the sheer magnitude of the picture-less books that he longed for.

Blaine, however, did not want to sound ungrateful (he wasn't even sure that he was supposed to be looking at them in the first place) so he continued to engross himself in whichever books were provided.

He found that the more time he spent in the books, the more time he wanted to spend in them. Suddenly he was seeing images of things that he had never before seen in his life and even though they didn't always make sense, he knew that he was finally learning more than the simple moralistic teachings of the village. He was learning about the world beyond it.

Then one day everything changed.

It was about a year after the first time he had made his way to the small forest clearing, except this time when he found himself at his destination, instead of it being lonely and deserted there was someone there.

A boy, who looked roughly the same age as Blaine was sitting against his usual tree with his face buried in one of the gigantic picture-less books. This alone would have been enough to render Blaine speechless, but the sheer strangeness of the boy's appearance only served to make things more astonishing. The easiest way to describe him was beautiful. He was pale, far paler than anyone he had ever seen, but for some reason it didn't appear unhealthy. On the contrary it seemed to make him glow in the soft dappled sunlight that glinted through the forest canopy. His hair was a light shade of brown, like sand, and he wore it pushed back neatly from his face.

But the most remarkable thing about the boy became apparent when, upon hearing a twig snap beneath Blaine's soft leather boots, he looked up and stared into the Blaine's eyes.

Blaine heard a gasp that he realized must have been from him, but he was too taken aback by the sight before him to acknowledge it. The eyes staring into his were brilliantly blue with speckles of green and grey – completely unlike the hues of brown and black he saw in the village. The only thing he had seen that could possibly compare to them was a picture from one of the books – an image of a mass of clear smoky colour contrasted strongly against the pitch-black of the night sky. To see the same thing right in front of him honestly frightened Blaine a little and he made to leave as quickly as he could.

"Hey, wait," said the boy in a voice so pure and musical, Blaine had to stop and face the speaker. "Are you the one who normally comes here to read?"

Blaine blinked at the boy, too afraid to say anything, but eventually nodded.

"I'm not trying to be rude by being here," said the boy with a reassuring smile on his face as he stood up and walked over to where Blaine stood frozen in fear. "It's just that, I've been coming here for the past week and I saw the books and there was no one else around, even though there was a path walked into the grass. I assumed that someone came here a lot, I just didn't know who. But I guess now I do. I'm Kurt Hummel."

Blaine began to wonder why he had been so worried. The beautiful boy seemed to be really nice and friendly too. Kurt held out a hand for Blaine to shake and he took it with a small smile. "Blaine Anderson," he suddenly replied, surprising himself.

"Pleased to meet you. So are these your books?" Kurt asked, lifting the heavy book in his left hand.

"No, I just find them here when I visit from the village," said Blaine, toeing the ground nervously. He spotted Kurt's slight frown at this and realised he wasn't even sure if he was meant to be talking to this strange boy. His mother had warned him of the danger of speaking to people from the outside, but surely his mother couldn't have meant someone like Kurt? He had been nothing but pleasant and it looked like he understood what he saw when his eyes poured over the pages of symbols that Blaine could only guess meanings at. "Can you...?" he asked pointing at the book.

Kurt laughed. "Of course I can! That's what you learn as soon as you can speak!" at the sight of Blaine's raised eyebrows, his laughter faltered. "Don't you know how to read?"

Blaine shook his head and Kurt gasped a little. "Well, I'm just going to have to teach you then aren't I?" he finally said with a grin.

Blaine spent the rest of the day learning and reciting the alphabet and listening to Kurt read. To say that Blaine had made a new friend was an understatement. It was as if he finally had someone who understood that there was something more, even if neither of them really knew what that something more was.

When it came time for them to think about going home, they both smiled at each other sadly.

"Will you be back?" asked Kurt, a concerned look passing across his face.

"Whenever I can," replied Blaine.

"Well, I'll be here every morning waiting for you," the blue-eyed boy replied with a smile. Blaine grinned at this and was about to head off back to the village when Kurt said, "You know, you're different to how I thought a village person would be."

"That's probably because I'm not really one of them," said Blaine, "but thank you. You have beautiful eyes."

"Yours are amazing too. I've never seen a combination of browns and greens. You're like a part of the forest," smiled Kurt. Blaine smiled, not sure how to reply and made his way back home.

Blaine made his way to the forest at every opportunity he had from then on and Kurt was always sitting there waiting for him. Blaine soon learned to read and after a while the two of them would sit in the same spot as always just reading in each others' presence. Blaine looked forward to those times with Kurt more than he could ever explain.

Which was why he practically ran up to the forest that morning to see him.

When he got there, however, Kurt wasn't anywhere to be found and Blaine couldn't understand it. He was normally so good at keeping his promises to be there. It was only when he slumped down to his usual spot in between the roots of the tree that he noticed the note. Blaine unfolded it and read the small, neat handwriting.

Dear Blaine,

I don't know what's going on. All I know is that my father's being sent somewhere and so I have to go too. They have one more big thing to do and then we leave. I will miss you more than I could ever say. You're the first real friend I've ever had. Stay safe. You're special.

Love forever
Kurt

Blaine felt his whole world sink under the weight of these words. His best friend, the only one he had really ever had, was gone and he wasn't coming back.

It was with a dejected heart that he made his way back to the village, hardly noticing the shambles it was in. It became like that from time to time and Blaine was immune to it. He should have, however, noticed the eerie silence that smothered the settlement.

He only really realised something was wrong when he got home and everything inside the house was destroyed. Shards of plates and windows littered the floor, the furniture all lay on its side slashed open and spots of blood soiled the floor.

"Mother?" Blaine called anxiously. When no reply came, Blaine increased his volume and screamed with more insistence. He went into every room of the house pleading to whoever would listen for his mother to reply. When he heard nothing he pelted next door and banged on their door. No one answered. He looked around for any sign of anyone, but there was nothing.

Blaine Anderson was completely alone.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews would be greatly appreciated :)