"I think about scrawling "I miss you" all over subway walls and trains I know you often take.
But I imagine you'd look right past time, as anyone would, never knowing they were
Written for you.
Even though my words are.
(They always are)"
Trains.
Blaine hates the train because it's filled with pee on the edge of the door. He hates it because when it's crowded, he has to stand and it feels icky, especially when elbows hit him on the side of his stomach. He dislikes it when theres garbage on the floor.
Today, however, is a special day because the boy is there. He stares at the boy that he's loved since the day he saw him. Blaine remembers everything they used to do, used to talk about. The boy, Kurt, was covering his eyes with his hat, listening to music. Blaine almost calls out his name until he realizes he can't. He shouldn't.
The train stops and Kurt leaves.
Blaine sees him again, the next day. He's sitting on the dirty New York gum-stained bench, staring at nothing and waiting for the train to come. Blaine takes a deep breath and tells himself that there's no turning back. He's walking closer to the boy, freaking out a bit, and stops. The train comes and Kurt gets in.
The day after that, Blaine doesn't see him. He's relieved, but not really. He wished to speak to him again, he misses the feeling of their friendship, the feeling of his hugs, he misses everything.
"I miss you," he writes on the subway wall, hiding in a corner where no one could see. "Speak to me, please."
He gets on his train and writes on the seat that the brown haired boy usually takes, "Look at me for once."
Blaine sighs and shuts his eyes in frustration.
"He's never going to notice," he thinks and throws the marker on the way out.
The following week, Blaine finally sees him, his heart was beating erratically, hoping that Kurt would see it. They're sitting on the seats they normally sit.
His heart breaks when Kurt ignores it, knowing their friendship would never go back to the way it used to be.