Author's note: Hi! this is our first fic: (by "our" I mean my friend and I created a joint account:D ) so please review to tell us if we did well or not;) Criticisms are more than welcomed!

Disclaimer: We do not own Glee. CP Coulter owns the houses:)

Blaine was alone in his now empty dorm room, when Wes barged in. He laid on what used to be his boyfriend's bed, creating folds and creases on what seemed to be a perfectly pressed sheet. Blaine would've usually reacted violently, but he decided to just let it go.

" There's a game today, Windsor vs. Hanover. Aren't you watching?"

" Nah" Blaine said. "I…uh…I'm busy."

" With what? Being a fat lazy sloth all day? Yeah…busy." Wes said sarcastically

" Listen! I just…I just" Blaine said, voice cracking

" You miss him…I know, I know you too well. Here…" He said as he grabbed the acoustic guitar, mounted on the wall.

" This little piece of wood always cheers you up." Wes said handing over the musical instrument. Blaine thanked Wes and openly accepted the guitar. He played a few chords and all the grey clouds in his head went away. Soon enough, the two boys we're jamming along to 'Rolling in the Deep'. It stayed like this 'till David walked in, slouching.

" Games over." He said in a sad tone

" Results?" Wes asked, almost jumping on the bed. David sat beside Blaine with his head resting on his hand and sighed.

" Well… it's okay Dave…" Wes said patting his friend on his back

" GOT 'YA!" David said like a two-year old. " Come on guys, those Hanover losers don't stand a chance against us in football, or anything for that matter!"

They all shared a big laugh. David was jumping around pretending to reenact the game when he heard a rip. He looked down and saw that he had torn a piece of paper that was supposed to be hidden underneath Kurt's bed. The three boys gathered at the face of the paper.

" It's a song. " Wes said

" Not mine…" Blaine said with a shaky voice " It's Kurt's…". He stood up holding the broken paper and sat at the farthest corner of the room. Wes and David made their way out of the room as slowly and quietly as possible. He was alone again. Blaine closed his eyes, took a deep breath and began reading. Tears raced down his face as he finished, remembering the very reason Kurt wasn't in that room. The very reason he transferred back to McKinley.

" I see the way you look at him!" Kurt screamed.

" I-I don't-I don't love him anymore." Blaine remembered, screaming back.

" There was a picture! You and him!" Kurt sobbed.

" Kurt, me and chase…it's over. There's nothing anymore. Well…"

" Well what?" He demanded.

" Nothing. I-I-I where did you find the picture?" Blaine asked.

" I was gonna get notes from your book, I accidentally nudged the frame wherein our picture was placed. It fell from behind it!" Kurt said, eyes swollen from crying.

" I was supposed to throw that away! It belongs to the trash!" Blaine explained.

" Blaine…I see the you look at him when he passes by. I see the way you react when he scores a goal when Hanover has a game. I see you squint when his name is called over the microphone."

" I-I Kurt…I don't know what to say…" Blaine croaks.

" Therefore resting our case, you still love him." He finally said, as he walked out of the room.

Blaine's memories shifted back into the day he moved out.

" Kurt, I don't want you to go! Please!" He said.

" I'm sorry. But I just can't." Kurt said as he folded his Dalton uniform, to return it to the principal's office. " Blaine, I love you. I really do… But I can't take how you react. I can't take the fact that you still have his picture. I can't take the fact that there are doodles of you and him in your History notebook. You still love him. And I can't do anything about that. It hurts me too much that I have to leave."

" I-I-I" Blaine couldn't speak. He does love Kurt. But, he still loves chase too.

" Goodbye Blaine" He said, closing the door behind him.

And there he was. In the corner of his room, sobbing his eyes out. He was clawing at his own curly hair. He grabbed his phone and dialed the number. His hand missed dialing. He wants him. He needs him. He'll get him back.