"Amanda, sorry I'm late; my Mom got stuck in traffic."
"She isn't exactly the best driver."
"Wait, Nick?"
"Don't forget about me."
"Wes?"
"And me, white boy."
"Blaine, this is plain rude, you have to mention me as well."
"BLAINE!"
"God Blaine, we've missed you."
"You're looking well."
"Bit peaky."
"Obviously you haven't been eating."
"I can take you out for dumplings."
"Mike!"
"But Tina, everybody loves dumplings."
"Can you two shut up? We're here for Blaine, not for dumplings."
"Right! Sorry Quinn. Anyway Blaine, are you going to say anything?"
Blaine's breath was stolen from his throat as his eyes surveyed the people in front of him. There was Wes, Nick, Rachel, Mercedes, Mike, Tina and for some strange reason, there was Quinn. But the most peculiar thing was the black streaks and dots that covered their bodies, each person having the most amount of paint over their heart.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"I sent them."
"Amanda, you sent them?"
"We're here to show you that you're not forgotten by us."
"I know it's been rough Blaine, and we all miss Kurt."
"But we miss you as well."
"So we're here to help you and to show you that you're loved."
"Each streak and each splatter of paint on our skin and clothes show the places where you've touched us and moved us."
"You've moved all of us, right here."
And once Mike finished his sentence, they all moved their hands to the dark spot of paint over their heart in perfect unison.
"I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything at all."
Blaine didn't, he didn't have to say anything at all. They understood.
"Blaine?"
"Hi Nick. Where's Wes?"
"He had to go for an emergency family meeting."
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, everything's okay."
There was silence, except for Nick's uncomfortable shuffle and Blaine's fingers occasionally tapping out a melody on his knee.
"How've you been man? You're talking a lot more now, I mean more than before."
"I'm okay."
"I've missed you."
"I've missed you too."
The two of them shared a fleeting smile that tumbled out the door as quickly as it came in.
"I miss him too."
"Kurt?"
"Who else is there to miss?"
"Me."
"You're right here."
"You've only got half of me."
"Where's the other half?"
"With him."
"Kurt?"
"Who else would it be with?"
Kurt grazed his fingertips against Blaine's upturned wrist and Blaine closed his eyelids at the touch.
"I miss both of them."
"Kurt and my other half?"
"Kurt and my best friend."
Roses.
Kurt had given him roses.
Red and yellow ones, the yellows tinged in pink near the top.
Blaine had taken Kurt's part and Kurt had given him roses.
"You always zig when I think you're about to zag, and I love that about you."
I don't deserve you and I never will.
But you still have him and he still has you, the roses seemed to whisper.
"Blaine, do you remember when I said I wanted to be a bird?"
Interlaced fingers and a kiss on his collarbone.
"Of course."
"I feel like I'm getting there, to being a bird."
"I don't see any wings darling."
"Silly. It's a slow process. You don't just suddenly bethe bird. You feel the bird first; then you soar."
"How?"
"You slowly get lighter, clouds in your head and sunlight in your veins instead of blood. Then you glow and fly."
"Are you getting lighter?"
"More and more; I feel like I could float away."
"Don't. I'll miss you."
Kurt drew wings on Blaine's back with his fingertips, feather-light touches against skin.
"My feet can't stay on the ground forever."
"So what did you think of the surprise?"
"It was amazing. Amanda, you're amazing. Thank you so much for that."
"You needed to be reminded that you're loved. Every person deserves to be reminded that once in a while, you especially Blaine; and you are so loved."
Blaine got out of his chair and hugged her; Amanda patted his back and let a small tear fall onto Blaine's sweater.
"I made it up with my Father."
"Really? Blaine, I am so happy for you and so proud."
"Thank you."
"There's something still bothering you though, isn't there?"
"It seems like everyone can read me like an open book, except for me."
Amanda chortled and smiled gently, beckoning him to continue.
"I don't feel like I deserve him."
"Kurt?"
"Yeah."
"If this is about how you think you're not loved, I can bring your friends back again. I have a brand new bucket of paint in my garage-"
"It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
"It's just that sometimes I feel like Kurt's this bright something, clouds in his head and sunlight in his veins instead of blood. Then there's me, trapped on the ground watching him spiral into the sky."
"Then fly with him."
"I'm chained."
"I think you're the one chaining him to the ground. Let him fly."
The nights when Blaine couldn't sleep, he would lie in his bed and pretend that he was lying on grass instead of fabric. He would pretend that he was in the little patch of grass behind the glen, the sun burning into his cheek and the blades of green staining his shirt.
Kurt would be next to him, his hair streaked with the sun's golden rays, his face ablaze from the sun. They would be surrounded by tossed-to-the-side candy wrappers from the caramel Hershey kisses that both of them loved so much and empty raisin boxes from Tesco.
Their eyes would be turned towards each other, shielded from the light.
"It is, I'm just wondering if you ever had the urge to just rip off each other's clothes and get dirty?"
Um, yes.
"Uh, yeah, that's why they invented masturbations."
Fuck, that wasn't meant to be said out loud.
"It's so hot in this room, can we open a window or something."
"Hey I'm serious! We're young, we're in high school and we have urges but whatever we do, I want to make sure that you're comfortable, so I can be comfortable."
Actually I'm terrified. I want to make sure everything's perfect for our first. I've never had a proper boyfriend, except for you and you mean so much to me and I want you to know that every day. I can't screw this up.
"And besides tearing off all your clothes is sort of a tall order."
"Because of the layers?"
"Because of the layers."
He's forcing a smile.
I'm doing this for you.
I am right?