It was, to say the very least, torturous for Blaine.

And Kurt, too, of course.

But it had hit Blaine in an entirely different way, one filled with regret and ultimate sorrow, and he simply could not fathom why this was hurting him in a way he'd never begun to feel before.

The moment he slammed the door behind him, he felt his heart tug at him, and he knew this wasn't the way things weren't supposed to end, it couldn't be, could it? But it was concrete, it was certain, now, Kurt had pulled a dick move, and fucked everything up for them both.

It was Kurt's fault, right? Blaine thought to himself, as he found his way to the elevator. I mean, Kurt had done something awful, something downright unforgivable, something he just couldn't -

Wait. Had he really? He'd just told him how he felt, was that so wrong? He-

Blaine shuts himself up, as he tenses his fingers against each other, and his throat clogs up, and his eyes are getting hot, and oh no, he is not crying in public, right now, why is he crying,

Why is he crying?

He is the one who left.

Kurt just stares. He sees the door close, he hears the door close, but he does not believe that Blaine has just left him like this.

He sits up, in a daze, eyes still locked onto the brown back of his bedroom door.

What.

What just-

Blaine.

Why?

Kurt doesn't know how he ends up in the bathroom, but he does, and he stares at himself, collar left open, red, purple, and black bruises and love marks trailing down his neck, and the curve of his shoulder.

They are all too painful reminders of what just happened, though Kurt hasn't entirely processed the event anyway.

His reflection has glassy, scared, dazed eyes. Kurt wonders what his reflection did to get so frightened.

It is then that the impact of everything cra

shes down on him, like a building collapsing in on itself.

He told Blaine he loved him, and he didn't say it back. Not only did he not say it back, that motherfucker motherfucking left him.

He fucking left him.

Kurt literally asks his reflection,

"Why does this hurt so much?"

His reflection cannot think of an answer at the moment, so Kurt turns to face the wall, and he sinks to the floor and cries.

Halfway down, as he's sliding against the tiled bathroom wall, he realizes he's actually "sliding down a wall, and crying" like everyone does in movies, but he doesn't even care once he reaches the freezing cold floor, and his sobs scream out from his throat.

"I mean what I said," Kurt murmurs, once he's let his tears out for a good half hour, and he's finally, finally, calmed down enough to think halfway straight. "I do-did love you," he says, to no one, really, but it seems even the air knows who he is adressing.

But, as it always does, life goes on.

Kurt takes a couple days off from rehearsal to mope, yes, but after that, he's okay, really, at least somewhat. He hangs out with friends, he does phenomenal in every show, he even musters up the courage to go out on a few dates, though none of them really go anywhere.

But, basically, for twenty nine days, Kurt Hummel is happy, though he still feels a ping of regret whenever he sees a poster for Blaine's new film, which is suddenly, everywhere, much to Kurt's dismay. But he is proud of himself, as when he looks back on their relationship, he doesn't feel animosity, or anger, he just feels sorrow, which is better than hatred any day

He does not let himself think about how Blaine's days are probably running out, and how he hasn't received as much as a text from him from that night, and how he won't even get to see his movie premiere, and -

He doesn't.

On the thirtieth day, that is when Kurt gets the call from the hospital, right before his last night in Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The nurse's words echo in his ear the entire forty two minute drive.

"Mr. Anderson isn't looking too good at the moment, I'm afraid. He's been asking for you. Mr. Hummel, he- he's dying."


Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who's been following this story, this is the second to last chapter, the next one is it! So, thank you all, for everything!