The way that he climbed over the ledge was so smooth, almost surreal. It looked like he was merely climbing over the ledge to get a glimpse at the view, to have a picnic, it was peaceful. The photographer who had stopped to look did not realize he was going to jump. From behind his camera lens, it looked beautiful... and fake, like something from a movie.

Blaine tiptoed closer to the edge- was he really going to do this? He could have a career ahead of him. He could have a life. But none of that seemed to matter. He could feel the wind raking through his messy curls, and inched closer to the edge. It was, however, when he was closing his eyes, feeling the wind scrape past his cheeks, then a hand snatched the back of his jacket.

A hand snatched the back of his jacket.

Blaine felt the breath literally leave his throat.

"I'm not letting you jump," A lovely soprano voice- though clearly male- stated, and he swallowed.

"You don't even know me!" He called over the wind, and the other male tightened his grip.

"I don't care! I'm not letting you jump," The boy stated, patiently, and Blaine bit the inside of his lip.

"Come on."

The boy with the countertenor voice tried to hoist Blaine back over the ledge, and Blaine struggled at first, but eventually let him. He practically toppled into the boy's arms once on the other side, and his eyes were welling with tears and the other boy just held him and shushed him gently. "How old are you? Tell me about yourself. What's your name?"

Blaine blinked back his tears and pulled away. "I-I'm twenty-two. My name is Blaine Anderson."

The other boy's pale hand pushed back the messy curls from Blaine's forehead. "Only twenty-two," He murmured, "You're so young. You've got your whole life ahead of you."

Blaine's bottom lip trembled. The other boy kept talking, and just his lovely voice was soothing.

"You're quite lovely. And I can tell you can sing, just from your voice. Do you sing?"

He was keeping Blaine distracted and it was working.

"I-I'm a music student. I do sing."

The boy, who was taller than Blaine, and he assumed older, looked down at him. "Do you play any instruments? You must be talented, to be a music student."

Blaine sniffled. "I've played piano for as long as I can remember. Guitar, violin, cello, mandolin, harmonica and drums."

He looked slightly impressed, and his blue eyes sparkled. "That's quite a lot. Do you write your own music?"

Blaine nodded shakily.

"I'm impressed. You must be talented, Blaine."

The way his name slipped off the boy's lips was like something out of a fairytale. It was smooth as the melody of a grand piano, and Blaine could grow used to listening to that.

It was a nice distraction, at least.

"W-Who are you?"

The other boy smiled.

"My name, or who I really am?"

The corners of Blaine's lips threatened to quirk into a tiny smile, almost reflexively. "Your name, please."

"My name is Kurt Hummel. I'm nearly twenty-five, and a Vogue photographer."

Blaine was still leaning heavily on the boy- Kurt, it was a lovely name, and it suited him- but neither of them seemed to mind.

They stood, in silence for a while, Blaine had managed to begin to collect himself and Kurt was just holding him.

Kurt hadn't known what he'd gotten himself into, with this troubled boy, but he sure as hell knew he wasn't going to let him jump over the edge.

"You'll be alright," Kurt murmured, and Blaine swallowed, nodding.

"Where do you live? Let me take you home, darling," He said softly.

He just didn't want the poor boy to harm himself if he was left alone. Would he? Would he attempt again?

Kurt didn't even know him.

Blaine sniffled and stated his address, though he was too much of a mess to get home right now, even with Kurt driving him there.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself, Blaine," Kurt said seriously, and Blaine's hazel eyes were more green than brown, he noticed.

Stop it.

"If you think you're going to harm yourself, I want you to come home with me, okay?"

Blaine nodded, and he let out a shaky breath.

"Do you think you will? I need you to let me know."

"I-I don't know," Blaine stammered, and he swallowed, "I might-.."

That was all Kurt needed to hear.

"You're coming home with me, and I want you safe, alright? You're going to be safe."

"You don't even know me," Blaine breathed.

"I don't have to know you," Kurt replied.

He realized Blaine was shaking and he suddenly felt a pang in his chest, giving a soft sigh. "Honey, you're okay. You'll be okay, I promise."

He didn't even know the boy and he was taking him home.

Kurt was such a softie. But it was the right thing to do, the poor boy could harm himself again and his hazel eyes looked so damn terrified that it melted Kurt completely.

Poor kid.

Blaine only nodded slowly, and he bit his bottom lip.

Kurt started to lead him to his car slowly. He rubbed circles in the back of Blaine's hand, gently, and opened the passenger side door for Blaine.

Blaine's eyes passed Kurt and his car and lingered on the edge where he'd nearly jumped off, and Kurt was afraid he was thinking of it again.

But he tore his eyes from the ledge and got into the car, and he was no longer shaking.

Kurt smiled.