Hey guys! Thank you so much, everyone who reads it! I didn't think I'd get this many readers this quickly. But here's another chapter for you and it'll hopefully clear some stuff up, so I hope you like it! Please review, it'll give me more motivation to write faster!
Blaine hadn't watched the boy's face while stuffing the cloth in his mouth and when he did look his eyes were way too teared up to see the boy clearly. He had many memories of these rooms. He had been there for months at a time, most of the time during summer holidays. The only difference there was back then was that the room wasn't dark, but Blaine had been able to see everything. He could still hear the footsteps in his ears as his father approached the control system, and later on, Cooper. Both with a smirk on their faces, he sat there, yelling and screaming as he was forced to watch the pictures of naked boys on the screen. They thought they made him straight, and so he did - for a while. Until he met Kurt.
When he flipped the switch and pressed the button, he heard the scream that after having pressed his eyes together, shot open. He recognized the scream. He should have recognized his face, even if his sight had been a bit blurry. Tears shot into his eyes, wanting to go and pull him out of the chair, take him in his arms and hold him tightly. But he couldn't. If he would show his father that he knew Kurt - and even worse, was dating him - he would go through that again until there was nothing left of him. He couldn't flip on the light switch, because then Kurt would be able to see who he was. He let out a quiet whimper as he walked towards Kurt, took his hair and pushed it down, hearing him cry and sob quietly. Blaine's eyes were filled with tears and he bit the inside of his cheek until it bled to not cry. The glistening of his tears would give him away at his father.
Kurt would find out anyhow, Blaine figured. "I am so sorry for this, Kurt.. I-I'll help y-you through this," he whispered without moving his lips. Kurt's eyes opened and glared up at him and Blaine knew he could see him. Blaine saw the judgmental look on his face and he knew he deserved it. Now Blaine knew he would do anything to get him out of here. Kurt was too good to go through all of this.
It was Blaine. Blaine was the one who did this to him. Had their relationship all been a lie? A trick to get him there and torture him? After Blaine left the room, he tried to move again but his whole body hurt, and he stopped. After a few minutes, he passed out. It was all too much. Blaine was torturing him.. And why? What had he ever done wrong? Nothing, right? But apparently he had done things wrong. Things he couldn't control. Things like his sexuality.
The nineteen year old woke up into an easier position, off the chair on a wooden floor, with curtains and even a bed. It looked much like a sort of prison, but he was already glad to be out of the dark room. He had been changed into a simple shirt and a pair of sweatpants, without any underwear. Honestly, he was glad. His whole body was still sore from the day before. Or was it still the same day? He stood up, groaning and sitting down on the hard bed.
"I am so sorry, Kurt," a familiar voice said and he looked up, eyes filling with anger and tears. Blaine was standing behind the door and he talked through the little window that was there.
"Don't even try, Blaine. You set me up. Want to explain why I am here exactly?" he snapped at him before pulling his legs up. Maybe he had too much of an attitude and that would happen again. He didn't want that.
"I didn't set you up, I didn't know about this until 15 hours ago."
"And why would I believe that?"
"Because I.. Just because. I can't explain it to you, Kurt. It's my father-"
"I thought your father was dead?"
"Well.. No. He's not. But he's dead to me. I hate him so much, Kurt. And even more for him hurting you.. Or making me hurt you."
"Go away. Leave me alone." He whimpered, wrapping his arms around his legs and turning his head away from Blaine, who he saw nodding in the corner of his eye, putting a plate down through the little window and leaving.
Everything was so fucked up. Nothing could be worse than this. He looked around in the room, and the longer he watched it, the worse it got. He noticed the blood stains on the walls that had been tried to wash off. As he looked under the bed he saw the mattress being ripped in many places. Obviously the mattress had been turned to the other side before. More things came the longer he watched, and he closed his eyes tightly for a few minutes before getting up and taking the plate. Just a few sandwiches and some tea, which to his surprise, was still hot. He paced around the room as he ate, not wanting to sit down and notice more things. He kept looking at the floor. After about fifteen minutes, he started to stumble and the plate fell from his hand. He leaned against the wall and looked at the tea, his whole world spinning.
Before he could do anything, the tea slipped out of his hand too and his eyes rolled away, his body going limp against the wall, sliding down.