YEARS {Glee/Klaine} ✓

Chapter Twenty Three

Blaine

I don't know what it was that shook me awake, but I found myself lying flat on my back with lungs desperately grasping for air that seemed to be in plentiful supply. I had to blink a few times to realize if I had ever opened my eyes at all, or if the surroundings were just as dark as if I hadn't even woken up.

A few more moments passed until I sat up carefully as my vision adjusted, and I could finally see that there had been limited amounts of sunlight barely seeping through the windows. By now I could make out the silhouettes of various things in the room, like the books and vases on the open shelf or the clothing rack off to the side. I was still in the same place as before.

My side of the bed was spacious. At last I finally turned my gaze to Kurt, who lied on the edge of the opposite side, clutching a pillow tightly. He was afraid. But if he was afraid for me or of me, I couldn't tell.

I leaned over only slightly to get a view of what the alarm clock on his nightstand said. It was almost 5:15. Not long until he would be waking up to begin his morning routine and be off to his classes at NYADA for the day.

As quietly as I could, I crept out of the sheets and into the living room, where I would hopefully find a decent seat as I awaited the remainder of the sun's rising. I don't think I could fall back asleep now. Every time I closed my eyes I could only picture the look on Kurt's face from last night. And now the only tiresome feelings I had were the ones of disappointing him again and again.

I was restless, even after trying to settle down on the couch. My mind was a machine at full speed, and for the past month or so, I'd come to learn that night and early hours were targets for stress. That's why I had been thankful for every time I opened my eyes late in the morning, knowing that the worst was passed.

I dug out my suitcase from behind the couch and knelt down to throw it open. In a small zippered compartment, I pulled out the little orange cylinder and uncapped the lid. Quietly I shook out a small amount of the contained pills, the right amount of pills, and stood up in search of a glass.

If Sam were here, he'd flip out on me, I thought. But before I could wonder anything more about Sam, I found a glass in one of the kitchen cabinets and turned on the sink water to fill it.

Instantly I felt some sort of relief when the pills slid down my throat, as if just taking the meds themselves would put a spell on me. Now I felt ready for the day, and ready for a confrontation.

The peace didn't last long when I heard an alarm clock go off somewhere in the loft. In panic I set down the cup and dashed over to my open suitcase, hoping to hide the capsule.

"Where's the lid?" I hissed under my breath, feeling around for the white cap that could only be located with the help of the sun's weak light. My heart sped up when the alarm stopped, knowing that if Kurt were to find me before I found it, I was going to owe him a difficult explanation.

There were footsteps coming closer and I didn't know what to do. Finally I put down the capsule behind the suitcase and leaned my body over it, just as a curtain snapped open.

"I hate early classes..." Rachel said groggily, rubbing her eyes and walking out of her room. "Blaine, what are you doing up?"

"Rachel..." I breathed out in relief. "Uh, nothing. I just woke up and needed to get out."

"Did you two have another bad night?" she asked as she shook out her messy ponytail and went over to the kitchen.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably over the suitcase.