You know you’ve found a true gentleman when he’ll bury your week old dead bird for you while you hold a rose and cry prettily.

'What?' Kurt grumbles into his pillow to the knock at his door. 'Um. Hey? You okay?' Kurt turns his head a little and is eye to eye with Finn, holding two mugs. 'It’s, um. It’s 9:30 and you hadn’t brought me my milk yet, so I thought maybe you forgot. Or something. So. Here you go. I made you one.' Kurt turns over and sits up against the headboard. 'Thanks,' he says, taking the mug. Finn sits down on the bed near his feet and Kurt frowns a little in surprise. 'Yes?' Kurt asks. Finn just shrugs and looks awkward. 'I don’t know. You usually try to get me to talk while we have our milk. So I thought I’d try to get you to talk to me? Especially since something’s wrong.'

Mary_Flanner should NEVER stop writing things from Blaine's point of view.