Same warning apply to previous chapters.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or its characters
It was hard. Holy shit was it hard to survive. His acting could only believable for so long, the cuts on his arms could only be invisible if willed them to be. He was getting careless when it comes to these things, and this was something that he couldn't just let slip.
Kurt was walking through the hallway, minding his own business, as usual, just trying to get to his next class without anyone picking on him. Oh, how silly he was to think that.
"Hey, fag."
Slam.
Right into the lockers.
"Go to hell." Kurt screamed after him.
And why would he scream after this kid? What gave him the right to do that? Or the courage?
The footballer stopped in his tracks and walked back to face Kurt.
"Excuse me, but I think you are the one going to hell, homo. You need to be taught a lesson."
Kurt saw it coming, he didn't know why he tries to dodge it, but stood still as the jock's fist collided with his cheek. Kurt's head snapped to the side and he automatically felt the blood flowing through his nose. He didn't shout in pain, he didn't try to push the guy away; he just stood there, gasping.
"One more time and I'll make sure that it isn't just your nose that cracks."
People stood there, watching Kurt with wide eyes. No one dared to even tell a teacher though, tattling was frowned upon on the jocks and was sure to get you a beating.
So, Kurt got up from the locker, turned on his heel and walked of the doors on McKinely High. He sat in his car and pulled down the car visor to see what damage has been done.
There was blood dripping down his nose and to his mouth, it had even gotten on his jacket. It throbbed, but Kurt wasn't really worried about that. He took off his jacket and pressed his against his nose, it was ruined already anyway.
He cleaned up his face so his nose just looked swollen and there was already a bruise forming. He reached into his pocket to fish out his cell phone and checked the time, nine o'clock.
He had enough time. He could make it there in back before his dad noticed. If he was there by eleven and out by one, he got be home by three. And still leave plenty of time for his dad to come home.
He put the car in gear and he headed towards the one place he swore he would never go back.
Dalton Academy.
He parked in the same place. He got out of the car and waited, just like before. He knew Dalton was in session but he had hoped anyway, that Blaine had an urge to look outside the gates today.
Kurt knew what was coming; he knew he was starting to feel again. That was why he talked back to the jock today; it was because Blaine made him start feeling again. And he didn't want to feel, it was easier to feel nothing. Nothing other than the warmth of the blade on his skin. He didn't want any but that.
So, in a way, he hated Blaine.
Maybe he should tell him that today.
And then he saw him, coming up from the path, he saw Blaine walking towards him. He stopped right in front of Kurt.
"It's been a month."
"I'm well aware, thank you for pointing that out." Kurt said.
"What are you doing here and holy shit, what happened to your nose?" Blaine's eyes went wide.
Kurt rolled his eyes, "Some guy punched me in the face after I told him to go to tell. I hope you know I blame you."
Blaine looked taken back, "And how is that my fault."
"Because, before you, I didn't care if I got called names in the hallway. I used to talk back to them all time until I realized how stupid it was of me and how it just egged them on more. So, I stopped caring, and I stopped feeling. It was you is making me care again, feel things that I do not want to feel. You are seriously making me hate you Blaine." Kurt spat.
Blaine stared at him for a second, "I'm not going to say I'm sorry for making you feel. I am sorry it got you punched in the face. Hate me all you want, Kurt, but I won't stop making you care."
Kurt didn't say anything.
"I thought about you, all the time. I wondered what you were doing, if you were still hurting yourself. If you were even still alive, God, I hoped you were alive. You are on my mind every second of every day because I care about you. And I won't stop telling you that. I care about you, Kurt. And I don't want you doing this to yourself anymore."
That's when Kurt felt the tears sting in his eyes. No, no more tears. Kurt hadn't cried in months. He was not going to cry. Not over words said to him that were probably not even true. He was not going to cry.
Kurt blinked his eyes rapidly, his vision blurring, his body slumping against the car.
"Kurt, it's okay to cry." Blaine said softly.
"No, no I already did enough of that. I cried too much before. No, I can't cry. That just makes me even weaker, more willing to feel things. I can't feel these things anymore, Blaine. Why are you doing this to me?" Kurt begged.
Blaine stepped forward, took a breath and placed his hand on Kurt's cheek, "Because I care. I need you to feel this, Kurt. I need you to feel. That is the only way you can get out of this."
Kurt closed his eyes and felt Blaine's hand touch his cheek gently. He had never felt something so… Comforting before. He had never been touched like this, in the most simplest of ways. It was strange. He surprised himself when he leaned into Blaine's touch.
Blaine drew in a sharp breath, he expected Kurt to pull away, not lean into him. But, he smiled a little and stroked him thumb along Kurt's cheek. He really was beautiful.
Blaine brought his other hand up so Kurt's face was cupped in both his hands.
"Feel, Kurt. That is all I am asking you to do, just feel." Blaine whispered, his face nearly inches away from Kurt's.
Kurt was fighting against himself. One part of him was begging him to feel, to give into Blaine's pleads and touches, to end it all and give up. But, another part of him was fighting to rip away from Blaine. To shout at him that he didn't need to feel, that he was fine not feeling anything. He didn't want to feel anything. That's what got him here in the first place.
Oh, but to feel again. How wonderful would that be? To open himself up and be him again? To tell Blaine his troubles, to cry it all out, to be held, and to be cared for? Wouldn't that be amazing?
Yes.
No.
I don't know.
Kurt reached up with one his hands and felt it come in contact with Blaine's face. He felt Blaine; he felt his soft skin, his deliciously warm skin. He wanted to keep on touching him.
Blaine felt Kurt's hand reach his own cheek and drew a breath. Kurt's hands were surprisingly warm and very soft. For some reason, Blaine didn't want to leave this very spot; he could stay like this forever.
Kurt opened his eyes and found Blaine staring right at him with wide eyes. And they were filled with nothing but looked like love to him.
No.
"No." Kurt whispered.
Kurt turned around, making Blaine's hands drop to his sides, and he faced the car, his forehead coming in contact with the cool window.
Don't feel. Don't feel. Don't feel.
Blaine's heart dropped, the moment he opened his eyes, he knew that Kurt was going to retreat. And now, Kurt's back was facing him and he could hear Kurt repeat to himself: Don't feel. Over and over and over again.
"Kurt, please. You need this." Blaine begged with him.
"No I don't, Blaine. I can't just start feeling again. It put me in such a bad place. It got me in so much trouble. I can't do this." Kurt opened the car door, got in and sped off.
Blaine didn't even try to stop him. He knew Kurt would be back. He felt more than he had in months, Blaine knew he was going to be back.
The only question was, when?
Waiting.
When Kurt got home that day, originally earlier than planned, he pulled out the scissors straight away.
But, this time, instead of warmth, he felt a sting.
That never happens, he never felt that sting. That sting wasn't supposed to be there. It was supposed to be comfort. It was supposed to make him feel better.
Feel.
That was the problem. Kurt was feeling things, he only did this when he wasn't feeling anything. That's why It felt so warm, because he couldn't feel it.
Stupid Blaine. He hated him. He really did. He wanted to go back there, just to yell in his face. How dare he even have the nerve to tell Kurt to feel when he doesn't even know his story. What gave him the right to tell him to him how to feel? Kurt was doing just fine not feeling anything.
That was a mistake, to go there, to Blaine, of all people, this morning. He should have just gone home. No, his first mistake was when he first drove out to Westerville and went inside the Lima Bean. That's where his mistake came from. He wishes he could take it all back now.
Kurt closed his eyes and let his mind go blank. He doesn't let himself think of Blaine, doesn't let himself think of the way Blaine made him feel and he doesn't think of the way how the blade stung.
He thinks of nothing. He sits there on his kitchen table and thinks of nothing.
About ten minutes later, be brings the blade up against his skin, one more try.
Warmth.
Relapse.
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