Thanks for all your lovely comments on the last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one! :)
It was hard to focus. Kurt went back to his apartment and sat down on the floor. It felt weird being alone. There was something on the couch—Blaine's jacket, the flannel one with the missing button. Kurt sighed and hung it up in the closet. The last thing he needed was a reminder of the fact that Blaine was gone now.
He thought about calling. Later, when it was nearly dinner time, and the sun was setting over the grey concrete, he picked up the phone and dialed. Blaine was sure to be back in his dorm now. But Kurt didn't. He didn't simply because he was unsure. It was as if Boston was a whole other world; it was as if the two places were separated by something more than miles. Kurt couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but it was there, lurking, hiding somewhere in the telephone wires.
Blaine would call. Kurt decided on that answer. He put the phone down on the table and began opening and closing cupboards, telling himself he was going to start dinner, but really just needing the noise to fill the emptiness of the room.
The next morning, Kurt had an early class. He had forgotten about it, somewhere between the packing and the worry. He thought about not going, but he realized that was pointless. If Blaine had still been here, and the two of them could have stayed cuddled up in blankets and listened to the world rush by, then perhaps it would have been worth it. But to stay in the apartment by himself was certainly not worth it.
Kurt yanked himself up and pushed himself out the door. It was cold out, the kind of weather where the air makes your nose hurt and your lips chapped. Kurt shoved his hands in his pocket and smiled. Maybe things were better after all.
Sometime around noon, Blaine called. Kurt was sitting in his class, trying to focus on one of the performances on stage. It was hard to, what with the heater on and the fact that he had barely gotten any sleep the night before. He reached down to check the time on his phone, but realized that he'd left it at home. Sighing, he stole a glance at the ancient clock stuck above the flag. Twenty more minutes.
Blaine sighed, pressing his thumb angrily into the end button. It wasn't Kurt's fault, he knew that. It wasn't Kurt's fault that Blaine was so needy and dependent. He couldn't be mad at Kurt. But he really just needed to talk to someone.
Wes had taken him out to dinner the night before. Blaine had found it all terribly embarrassing. Wes kept asking how Blaine was feeling every few seconds, and to be honest, Blaine wasn't feeling all that good. He didn't tell Wes though. Instead, he put a smile on his face and said that he was fine. Yes, he was fine, and no, he's not completely alright, but he's working on it. Spending time with Kurt was really just so helpful, and he thinks that he has something to live for now. Really, truly.
And this made Wes smile and drop the subject. Part of Blaine felt a little relieved, but the other part was screaming inside. Did people chose to be so blind? Could they really not see that he wasn't okay? Could Kurt not see it? Kurt mustn't have seen it, otherwise he wouldn't have let Blaine go. But it wasn't Kurt's fault. It could never be Kurt's fault.
So Blaine had called mainly to hear Kurt's voice, and to have someone whisper to him that it all would be alright. But after the third attempt he gave up and threw his phone across the room. It was almost noon and he had a class soon. The campus seemed quiet in comparison to New York. He missed the sound of taxis honking. He missed the smell of street food and the click-clack of high-heeled shoes on cement. He missed Kurt's little apartment and the stubborn door that refused to open. He really just missed Kurt.
Kurt got home sometime around three. He would've gotten back earlier except that some friends had wanted to go get coffee. They all had an idea as to what had been going on, but none of them really knew, and so the hour was spent explaining why he hadn't been around much, why he looked so tired, why Blaine wasn't with him anymore. By the time they were finished, Kurt just wanted a nap.
The minute he got into the apartment, he stumbled over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind him. His eyes shut as his cheek hit the soft cushions. It smelled like Blaine.
When he woke up, the sun was already beginning to sink. He heard his neighbor shuffling around in the apartment next to his, vaguely wondering what time it was. His hand scuttled around the table for a moment, his head propped up lazily on one arm. Finally, his fingers came in contact with his phone. He had three missed calls from Blaine.
There was a rush of adrenaline. Kurt's first impulse was to call back immediately, but he stopped himself. He took a deep breath and counted to ten before dialing.
It dialed four times. Then there was a pause.
"Hello, you've reached Blaine's cell phone. Sorry I can't take your call. I'm off doing important things, but if you leave me your name and number, I'll call you back as soon as possible."