There's something about rain in the morning.

The pitter-patter of it on the sidewalk; gunshot in the dawn.

The sound of the pelts belting on to cement; bullets ricocheting.

And it's calm and its quiet, except for the sound of the rain and it's beautiful in a way nobody else can see.

The rain is Kurt with raindrops the bells of his laughter.

And Blaine can hear the bullets ricocheting and he can smell the freshness of the morning, he can feel the wetness on his skin and the tangy taste of it hovering on his tongue when he opens his mouth to the sky.

But the rain blurs Blaine's vision and he can't tell whether it's tears of salt or raindrops that fall down his cheeks at soft dawn on a Sunday morning.

"Hey Blaine."

"Mike! Hey, how's it going?"

"It's all good. How are you?"

"I'm, I'm okay."

"No seriously Blaine, how have you been? I haven't talked to you in months and I really miss you."

"I'm fine, really. And I missed you too."

"Oh and um, Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"I know this is sort of sudden but can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Well actually can you do the favor with me?"

"What is it Mike?"

"I left my earphones at Kurt's house and I never got to get them back before he well, yeah."

A swallow at the mention of his name and the comforting brush Kurt's fingers against the fabric of his jeans.

"So I was wondering if you could come with me to Kurt's house. I know it's asking a lot but I don't want to go without you."

"I don't...actually okay. I'll come with you."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks man, this means a lot to me."

Blaine hadn't been in Kurt's house since he went over to watch Moulin Rouge! two days before his death.

Blaine didn't know why he agreed to Mike's favor and as he stared out the window at the blur of the trees racing by, he still didn't really know.

Maybe it was so that he could walk back into the place that had become second home to him, touch the things Kurt had touched. Maybe it was so that Blaine could go to Kurt's room and lose himself in the memories the room carried.

"Blaine, we're here."

"Oh."

"Are you ready?"

"No. But better now than never."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

When Blaine took his steps into the Hummel-Hudson household, the sheer number of memories hit Blaine as if he had slammed into a brick wall.

That was the sofa where he and Kurt had cuddled on whilst watching Pleasantville. That was the counter that Kurt had sat on when he was telling Blaine a story about Finn and Rachel that made him laugh out loud. That was the chair that Kurt had sat on and rolled his eyes at Blaine who was licking the batter off the mixer when they were making cookies for Valentine's Day.

Kurt was everywhere.

Blaine had stopped walking and remained glued to the doormat, eyes darting around the house and seeing Kurt's shadow in each corner of the room.

"Blaine, are you okay? Kurt's parents are out today but they knew I was coming which was why they left the spare pair of keys in the rubber plant outside. I'm going to go look for my earphones and you can do whatever okay? Shout if you need me."

Blaine nodded numbly and Mike patted him on the back before scampering off to look for his earphones.

He knew it was going to be bad but he didn't know it was going to be this bad.

He didn't know that when he went into the room, it would still smell like Kurt (a woody but fresh scent that Blaine could bury himself in) or that the room would look as if Kurt had simply gone out for a walk for a few minutes.

He didn't know that a sob would escape from his lips and his knees would tremble and he would get the feeling that the walls would close around him and the floor was spinning underneath his feet.

He didn't know that he would run to Kurt's bed and nuzzle into the pillows that despite three months of being left alone still smelt like Kurt, and find the fabric turn damp due to the tears falling down his face.

He didn't know that he would lie in Kurt's bed with the lights still switched off, hands clutching the blanket that he had wrapped himself in; trying to stop his heart from shattering to pieces.

"Blaine? Are you okay?"

"The room looks exactly like you left it."

"I never left."

Blaine found himself wrapped in a pair of arms and he let the tears melt into Kurt's shoulder.

"I always thought we would have our first time here, in this very room."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I don't really know why. I mean we had our second here…and our third…"

Despite the tears, a chuckle slipped from Blaine's lips and he punched Kurt in the arm playfully.

"There's just something about this place, we've had so many memories here."

Blaine nodded into Kurt's neck.

"I'm never saying goodbye to you Blaine."

"I wish you would."

Kurt dropped his arms away from Blaine and Blaine instantly felt cold.

"No, it's not that I don't love you. It's just that, loving you, it's so fucking difficult. You have no idea how hard it is for me right now. My mother thinks I'm crazy, my friends think there's something wrong with me. I want to let you go Kurt. But I fucking can't and it's so fucking hard. It's so fucking hard loving you because you don't love me back."

"I do love you."

"But you don't, because you're-"

Blaine couldn't say it. He couldn't say it out loud, because saying it out loud meant that it was true and he wasn't ready to face that yet.

"Blaine-"

Blaine flinched away from Kurt's touch and stumbled off the bed. His heart was pounding in his ears and his thoughts were racing and he felt so lost and it felt like the parts where Kurt touched him burned with bright consuming flames and it was suffocating him.

So Blaine ran, sprinted out the room and to the door, running past Mike's curious cries and bolting outside and running and running and running.

He didn't know where.

He doesn't think he'll ever know.