Blaine was happy. His life was a whirlwind of colour and smiling faces, every minute passing in an excited buzz of jokes and laughter. New York really felt like home, he left Ohio without looking back, his confidence never faltering, knowing this was the life he wanted. He was always smiling, bright eyed and all teeth. Until he wasn't.
He woke up one morning, three months after his move to New York, and it just felt like all the colour had been drained from his life, only seeing in dark greys and blacks. His limbs felt heavy and his eyes were dull and lifeless. It was like a switch had been flipped, and every good feeling was sucked out of the world.
Blaine could hear Kurt in the kitchen, most likely preparing a nice breakfast for them, and Rachel running scales in her room, her voice piercing his head and causing a dull ache to settle at the base of his skull. The noise or the loft was swirling around his head like a dark grey sandstorm of white noise, confusion and loneliness.
He could hear Kurt calling him to breakfast, but it sounded far away, like his brain had detached itself from his body, and his limbs refused to cooperate. He couldn't even bring himself to want to move, lacking the motivation to do more than close his eyes again.
Blaine had no idea how long he had been in that same position, curled in on himself, covers almost covering his head completely, his mess of curls in his face. It could have been minutes or hours before his fiance walked in for all he knew. He could see Kurt, he knew he was there, but it didn't really register for him.
"Blaine, come on, it's time to get up, I made you breakfast" Kurt spoke to him gently, knowing Blaine wasn't really much of a morning person, though not used to seeing the blank stare he was receiving at that moment.
Blaine could only look back at him, not quite registering what Kurt had said. He tried to open his mouth, to force himself to say something, but he just couldn't. Then he felt the gentle fingers through his hair, and a small spark of colour, light blue, flashed behind his eyes, anchoring him to that moment. His head leaned into Kurt's hand, letting out a light groan of contentment, not seeing the frown that had appeared on Kurt's face.
Just as quickly as the colour entered his life, it disappeared. He felt Kurt's fingers slip from his hair and let out a whine of disapproval, feeling exhausted, as though he had been awake for days, even though he hadn't been awake very long. He closed his eyes again, willing sleep to come, though he had a feeling it wouldn't be so easy.
Kurt was worried. He had never seen Blaine like this, so run down and just sad. He was supposed to be in class, but he just couldn't leave knowing there was something wrong with his fiance, but every time he tried to talk to Blaine, he would just look at him with that blank stare, not really seeing him.
After lunch time, when Blaine still hadn't emerged from their room, Kurt knew there was something seriously wrong. Blaine, no matter how unwell he was, never missed a meal, and that day he had missed two. Kurt went and checked on him for what felt like the hundredth time that day, hating how small he looked.
After what felt like hours, Blaine opened his eyes again, feeling the bed move beneath him and familiar arms wrap around him from behind. He felt Kurt pressed up against his back, holding him tightly to his chest. He let out a sigh of relief, and it felt like he could breathe again.
"Kurt" he breathed out, his voice raspy from lack of use, struggling to move his own hand so it covered Kurt's on his stomach. He felt relieved when his hand finally covered the soft hand that was gripping his shirt tightly.
"I'm here" he felt Kurt breathe against his neck, hating the worry he heard in his voice, knowing he was the reason it was there.
"Don't leave me" he heard himself say, not quite aware he was talking at all.
"Never" the hand gripping his shirt tightened, pulling him closer to the warm body behind him.
He knew there was something wrong with him. He knew that normal people didn't feel the way he did right then, but maybe he was just sick, maybe he just had the flu or something. Maybe he would feel better tomorrow.
He didn't.
A/N: this has been floating around my head for a long time now. I haven't written in years, but I'm trying to get back into it. I never had that much luck conveying what I wanted to in my stories, and I know this is probably going to come out very rough as I'm pretty rusty. I want to make this into a multi-chapter fic but I'm not sure just yet. I guess I'll just wait and see if I get a response. Thanks for reading!