A/N: Characters not mine, they belong to FOX. Song not mine – Cold Shoulder by Adele.

But in my fic, it's not used in the same context as it's used in the song...

I do hope you enjoy!

"—Do you understand?" Blaine's father's angry voice rang out around Blaine's tastefully decorated room.

Blaine nodded quickly, shakily, unable to tear his wide, frightened eyes away from his father's red, angry face that loomed in front of him.

"It's... it's the rules, Blaine! Word of mouth is a freedom only adults can possess in this household! You must be silent, or suffer the consequences!"

Blaine Anderson was an unnaturally quiet child of twelve. He always had been. Even though he always had a lot on his mind, a lot of opinions, and a lot to say. His peers had started out whispering about him, and pointing at him in the halls, until they grew accustomed to his silent manner. Now they passed by him like he was nothing but a shadow.

It was the way he had been brought up. He had been taught by his father that he was not to speak inside the house or anywhere in his parent's presence, or be beaten if he disobeyed. He could very well speak out at school, but he chose not to for fear of being ridiculed... or worse. It wasn't like anybody took any notice of him anyway.

Instead, Blaine turned to music. He always had. It was his own way of expressing himself rather than speaking out. Though he never sung or played the music, he just hummed the tune in his head and wrote out the lyrics.

"You know this, Blaine!" His father cried, slamming his fist down on Blaine's music-littered desk. "As soon as you become an adult you can piss off and do what you like. Including all this... this music shit." He gestured toward Blaine's desk. "But for now, you curly haired fuc—"

Blaine tore from the room, ignoring his father's shouts of rage and demands that he get back there this instant. He hated it when his father swore at him. Of course the physical pain that he endured from the man was awful, but the swearing he could not stand. Every syllable was like a direct blow to his chest. And there were a lot of them.

Blaine's ripped, baggy jeans hung low around his feet as he stole out of the house, into his most special hiding spot. He almost tripped over them, but his hand flew out to a nearby tree to catch himself before he hit the ground. Reaching the hollow of his most favourite tree, he sunk down inside it, his fingers weaving through the weeds and slightly damp grass at his feet.

He sighed, tilting his head back so it hit the inside of the tree, and closed his eyes gently, letting his fingers drag through the soft grass. A melody picked up in his head and he smiled softly, laughing almost bitterly as the lyrics danced across his mind.

These days when I see you

You make it look like I'm see-through

Do tell me why you waste our time

When your heart ain't admitting you're not satisfied

You know I know just how you feel

I'm starting to find myself feeling that way too.

Blaine awoke the next morning, his brow furrowed as the sunlight crept through his closed eyes. A bird squawked loudly nearby and his tired, hazel eyes shot open, revealing the hollow of his favourite tree. Sitting up, he scratched at his tousled curls, blinking around sleepily. He must have fallen asleep as he was daydreaming. His stomach rumbled hungrily as he had slept through dinner, and he checked his watch hurriedly – 8.31am.

Shit. He was going to be awfully late for school if he didn't hurry up. He quickly crawled out of his tree and sprinted off down the road in the direction of his school. Luckily, he didn't live too far away, though he was leaving everything behind including his breakfast. As he ran, he wondered if his parents even realised he had been missing that night. It wasn't the first time.

Breathing heavily from the running, Blaine collapsed into his homeroom chair, his stomach still making awful gurgling noises, and in the same clothes as the day before; he hoped no one would notice. He clutched at it painfully before he noticed a boy sitting beside the teacher's chair and his arms fell completely limp. He must be new, Blaine thought to himself curiously, wondering who on earth this boy was. He was ridiculously handsome in Blaine's opinion; with well-styled brown hair, a slim build, and shocking sky-blue eyes.

The boy looked over and met Blaine's gaze, smiling slightly and lifting an arm to wave hesitantly. Blaine averted his gaze quickly, a warm blush covering his cheeks from being caught out looking. He wasn't used to people paying much attention to him.

"You'll be assigned the seat next to that boy," he heard the teacher telling the newcomer. Blaine raised his eyes to see the teacher pointing directly at him and his eyes widened in horror. Of course. The only spare seat was next to him because nobody else in the class would dare sit next to the weird silent kid.

The boy walked over with the teacher and he kindly introduced them.

"Blaine Anderson, this is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is Blaine. I think you two will get along swimmingly," he lied quickly, before walking off. He knew full well that Blaine never spoke a word.

"Hi," the boy named Kurt muttered shyly, sliding into the seat beside him and extending his hand. "Like the teacher said, I'm Kurt Hummel, but you can just call me Kurt."

Blaine stared down at the hand offered to him, before he hesitantly reached out and grasped it, shaking it gently before retracting it like he had been stung. Kurt had very warm hands, he noticed.

Kurt tilted his head, frowning slightly at him. "So, you're Blaine..." He stated awkwardly, obviously not used to the silence from the other boy. "Hey, can you tell me the teacher's name?" Kurt slapped a hand to his forehead, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks and a genuinely guilty smile taking over his features. "I've already forgotten," he admitted sheepishly.

Blaine thought the pink of his cheeks complimented his porcelain features well, but would never dare say that to him. He didn't say anything, actually. He just blinked, before slowly raising his hand to the sticker on the front of the teacher's desk, labelled, .

"Oh..." Kurt mumbled, obviously disappointed with Blaine's response. They were both quiet for a moment before Kurt turned fully to him, his earlier frown deepening. "Don't you speak?"

Blaine's eyes that had wandered down to their table, quickly shot up to stare at him. He had never been asked that before. And it had never been put so... bluntly. Blaine chewed on his lip, looking at Kurt before he slowly shook his head.

Kurt let out another soft, "oh..." and Blaine could practically hear Kurt silently judging him.

Before Kurt could get another word in, Blaine's stomach gave an almighty rumble, and Kurt slapped a hand to his mouth, trying to muffle his laughter.

"Are you hungry?" He asked through his giggles. "It's almost break, right?"

Blaine nodded eagerly.

"Listen, why don't we hang out at break today? Unless..." Kurt bit his lip anxiously, giving him a side-long look. "Unless you want to hang out with your other friends..."

Blaine shook his head – what other friends? – And Kurt's face lit up. "Great!"

As the bell sounded, indicating it was break time, Mr. Schuester watched as the two boys rushed off together. Nobody had ever elicited this sort of enthusiasm from Blaine Anderson before. It was... curious, he decided.

A/N: Please review! Again, I'd really love to know what you think... Also, let me know whether I should continue, or whether I should scrap it...

It's not finished yet! ...Unless you want it to be... Hah!