Blaine took a while to get to sleep, sated and warm though he was, he couldn't believe his luck. The guy that rested in his arms, breathed deeply showing he was asleep, was so beautiful, so content where he was. He belonged there and Blaine planned on keeping him.

Quinn hadn't arrived home so he presumed she was still with Rupert but the idea that Kurt could stay forever played over and over in his mind like a song. He brought Kurt momentarily closer until he realised he would have to ring work soon to let them know he was sick. With his one free arm he took his phone and text his secretary asking her to cancel all meetings and postpone all important tasks as he was ill. He knew it was a little pathetic but he couldn't care much as he snuggled further into Kurt's warmth. Kurt started to stir so he kissed him slowly, kissed any skin he could find on his half covered face.

"Mmm," Kurt murmured, "That's a nice way to wake up."

"I love waking next to you," Blaine said, still kissing Kurt's face. "You're so warm and cosy."

"I need to get up to arrange the boutique," Kurt said but not moving anywhere.

"No…" Blaine whined, clutching Kurt closer just in case he tried to escape. Kurt chuckled.

"I'm sorry I need to," Kurt said finally making an effort to move. "You can join me if you like? Have you called in sick?"

Blaine hummed an affirmative and started to chase the warmth of Kurt's arms as he left the bed. "I'd like to help actually," he said opening his eyes. "I need to find a job soon I guess."

Kurt paused in the doorway.

"Well come with me today and we'll start to sort it out over lunch. Maybe you can visit a few places later tonight and set up dates to play?"
Blaine's expression brightened. "I love the sound of that."

"Good," Kurt said nodding happily, "Now coffee. Where's your machine?"

Kurt started walking to the kitchen to find it and Blaine clambered out of bed too. "No, it's ok I'll make it," Blaine said quickly as he stumbled nearer the kitchen. Kurt was laughing.

"Blaine, I can make coffee by myself," Kurt was saying though he was practically running away from Blaine and giggling and although it was strangely amusing for Blaine to see someone have so much fun in his home, a split second later there was only silence after a great big crash.

Kurt had run into a table, knocking over probably the biggest vase Kurt had ever seen in a house. It went straight to the floor and crashed into thousands of pieces. There was a tense silence as Kurt froze.

"Blaine, I'm so sorry," Kurt breathed as soon as he realised. He sunk to the floor immediately, desperately trying to pick up the pieces, hoping he might be able to salvage the wreckage.

"Kurt, Kurt, don't worry," Blaine said quickly, kneeling next to him and trying to remove Kurt's fingers from the pieces. "You'll cut yourself, don't worry."

"But I made such a mess, I broke such a lovely vase," Kurt said, tears in his eyes, his hands shaking as he desperately tried to clean the mess. He avoided Blaine's eyes until Blaine forced him to look at him by squeezing his hands.

"Kurt don't worry," he said calmly, "I always hated that vase, it was a gift from my mother, don't worry."

He looked so sincere Kurt took a deep breath and felt himself calm down. His eyes were still filled with tears that he had spoilt their morning and Blaine couldn't stand it. He stood abruptly and walked to a delicate ornament along the side.

"This is another dreadful piece," Blaine said holding it up for Kurt to see, "All of these things are gifts or things that Quinn and I thought we should have in our home. Nothing is personal."

He let it hover above him for a while, Kurt's eyes went wide and then Blaine let it drop, smashing to the floor.

"Blaine!"

"It's freeing Kurt," Blaine said, a little madly, his hair sticking up from where he had slept. "Try it."

Blaine grabbed two little figurines from the side and handed one to Kurt and helped him up.

"You want to smash all these pretty things?" Kurt asked quietly, a little worried by Blaine's behaviour.

Blaine nodded. "Don't you see, these are just pretty things. They don't mean anything, I've lived like this for too long. I want my house to feel like a home, I want people to know that I live here when they visit. Not my parents," he sounded so disgusted at the thought that Kurt could only nod in agreement. "Ready?"
Kurt nodded and Blaine counted: "One, two, three."

They smashed the two figurines, Kurt only gently, still apprehensive about breaking someone else's possessions, but Blaine noticed.

"No that wasn't hard enough."

He grabbed another two figurines and handed one to Kurt.

"These are for all the times my father has put me down or criticised my work," he said, ceremonially smashing the next figurine and watching Kurt do the same. "This is for every time my mom bought me or Quinn one of these dreadful porcelain figures as a gift." He smashed another one and Kurt watched it land, little pieces thrown into the air around it.

"This is for that time when I wasn't allowed to be who I always was, and always will be," Blaine said, taking a vase on the side and smashing it next to the other one. His arms were stiff and he thought back to the throwaway comment his father had made about him being a sissy and never being strong enough. He fell to the floor amidst all the ruin and let the tears fall.

"Oh Blaine," Kurt said as he rushed to him, wrapping his arms around him securely.

"I was never good enough, never good enough," Blaine repeated, his body heaving in sobs that he was trying to repress.

"But you are good enough," Kurt said, kissing his cheek then his shoulder. "You are good enough. You'll show them what following your dreams actually means and if they don't appreciate you Blaine, then there are so many others that will."

He kissed him repeatedly until Blaine calmed down. Tears fell down Blaine's face but his breathing returned to its slower pace and he nodded at the kind words Kurt was saying, as if he was slowly starting to accept them. Kurt stood and stretched out a hand that Blaine took a while to accept, eyeing it as if it might hold all the answers but wondering if it might disappoint. Blaine took the hand and was gently lifted up.

"Now let's have that coffee before I tidy up," Kurt was saying as he led Blaine to the kitchen. "I think Quinn might worry a little if she saw all of this."

Blaine sat at the kitchen counter sipping the coffee Kurt made him, staring into it like there was only darkness and no hope. But one look at Kurt's cerulean eyes of worry and Blaine realised he had everything he needed after all.

"Don't look so heartbroken," Kurt said as soon as he sat down to drink his own coffee. "Life isn't that bad is it?"

Blaine shook his head and tried a little smile.

"Well then," Kurt said trying for an optimistic smile, "I can help you redecorate when I've set up the boutique."

"I'd like that," Blaine whispered.

"We can go for any colour scheme you like, all objects of your choosing," Kurt said, already picturing it in his head. "It will be your house by the end of it all."

Blaine nodded again and sipped his coffee, feeling better already. Then he thought back to what he was hiding, what weighed him down and he realised he wasn't really free and never would be.

"Why the sad face again?" Kurt asked, instantly worried.

"I'm a married man Kurt," he said pathetically, "I'm married to someone I will never love in that way. I'm living a lie."

Kurt was silent. There was nothing he could say that would make it better. Blaine was essentially living a lie.

"What do you want to do?"

Blaine looked up. Such a simple question but with such an impossible answer.

"I want to run away," he said, "Away with you."

Kurt's gaze softened. "We can't do that Blaine."

"You could leave Quinn?" Kurt suggested, not knowing how Blaine would react.

Blaine looked pained before he started to speak.

"I can't," he said simply, his eyes deliberately looking elsewhere, anywhere other than Kurt's innocent face. "I made a promise."

"To whom?"

Blaine stood as if this would make it easier. "My dad used to hit my mom, blamed me for most of it." Kurt looked visibly shocked. "He said it was because I was gay so I promised that I wasn't, pretended that I had no idea what he was talking about. We haven't discussed it since. He probably thought it was a phase."

Kurt lowered his head, said nothing and Blaine bit his lip in worry.

"So if you divorce Quinn you think he will be violent again?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know, I don't think I would ever want to take the risk."

That was it. Kurt looked like he'd been stabbed, a sudden burst of pain shot across his face. He bit his lip and remained silent until Blaine could take it no more.

"Kurt? Say something," Blaine begged, his eyes suddenly wide with panic that the morning that had started so optimistically had been getting steadily worse. Kurt was pale but eventually he met Blaine's worried gaze.

"What a promise to make," he whispered shaking his head.

"But it'll get better, I promise," Blaine said rushing forward to grab Kurt's hand, clutching at it desperately.

"You can't promise that Blaine," Kurt said. He looked so hopeless Blaine could tell the words that would leave his mouth next and he would do anything to stop those thoughts, erase the possibility of those words that would end everything. It was the first time he had really thought about the consequences of his actions, of how living only for his parents had made his life null and void now. He was nothing but their puppet.

"Please Kurt," Blaine begged, "Don't go."

Kurt looked up, his expression torn between sorrow and hopelessness. He shook his head. "It seems an impossible situation. If you were to be honest, answer me this: would you divorce Quinn sometime in the future?"

Blaine hesitated. The image of his mother, beaten and worn down coupled with the thought that he had caused that - he couldn't bear it. He hesitated a little too long and Kurt nodded sadly. He stood up.

"I think Blaine you need to do a little bit of thinking," Kurt said finally. "I don't think your mother should stay with your father if he's like that and it won't ever be your decision to make. You can't live your life protecting others if they don't want your help. Your mother is a grown woman and she has the life she has chosen. You need to be free and live your life, your way."

Kurt walked to the bedroom to change quickly whilst Blaine remained in the kitchen. There were no words to say, nothing that could persuade him to stay and Blaine felt like he was watching an upturned sand timer. Sand, along with time and all possibilities of happiness, were slipping away from his grasp. Kurt grabbed his coat by the door and turned to leave Blaine one last time.

"I think you need to think about this Blaine," he said, "If you ever need me, you know where to find me."

And with that he was gone and Blaine could only let his tears fall pathetically into his now lukewarm coffee.