Blaine felt along the silky material of the bowtie, its black stripes giving it such an air of preppy schoolboy alongside the red, that Blaine was instantly reminded of his Dalton days. He smiled as he stood in the mirror, fully dressed in grey pants and matching vest top. He knew the outfit needed just that hint of colour but it had been so long since he had worn such a bright bowtie and he couldn't shake the feeling he was doing something daring and a little risky.

The image of Kurt's wide eyes, as he had taken the biggest risk of kissing him briefly on the cheek, flitted across his mind. Kurt had looked shocked, taken aback and Blaine couldn't help but wonder if the kiss had been completely unwanted. Blaine hadn't meant to do it but after feeling Kurt's fingers tremble slightly as they brushed along Blaine's arm, he couldn't help it. He'd felt a pull, a need for something more, an appreciation of beauty – Blaine wasn't sure what to call it, he just hadn't thought it through at all. Of course he also hadn't contacted Kurt since and for once in his life he had deliberately withheld information when Quinn had asked how the meeting had gone. A week went by, his life at work continued and he could already feel his soul slip away just that little bit day by day.

Nothing had really changed, work had continued, yet the thought of meeting with clients and completing paperwork only left Blaine feeling so desperate to leave. He sought fresh air, drinks with friends, visits to the piano bar – anything to get away from the dullness of work with his father, where it mattered how you performed and what you looked like. The image of the sketch by the tatty red fence kept returning to his mind where it seemed to haunt him, act as a constant reminder that he was trapped in a sexless marriage and hated his job. He hadn't realised that he had started clutching at the bowtie in his hand, almost crushing the silky fabric, until his nail dug into his hand and he released it. He was going out tonight, just like Quinn had suggested and he would wear the bowtie after all.

Quinn had been excited about this evening all week, which in itself had been quite remarkable, Blaine knew. She often entertained, often invited clients and fellow lawyers to their bar but tonight she was practically giddy with the thought of who was to come along.

"I can't believe he's coming," she said excitedly as she bounced into Blaine's room unannounced, her dress begging to be zipped up as she turned her back to Blaine. "You'll finally get to meet him."

"Yes, I will," Blaine said calmly, smiling at Quinn in the mirror, though it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Do I get to know his name?"

"Rupert. You do want to meet him don't you?" she said, just a hint of worry showing on her pretty face.

"Yes of course I do," he said, "I just don't get why you're so excited. You won't be able to act on anything. No one can know that you are together."

Her face took on a more steely quality as she stood next to Blaine in the mirror. It seemed they were always communicating through the mirror recently, hardly making direct eye contact as if she could turn him to stone just by looking.

"I know that Blaine," she said coldly, "You don't need to remind me."

He turned round to face her and placed his warmer hands on her arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I just need you to be careful."

She looked him over, his usually drab grey outfit brightened by the red bowtie with black stripes and she smiled warmly, all sad feeling gone. She stroked the bowtie with affection.

"You haven't worn this in years," she said, "I thought I'd never see this again."

"I thought it needed airing," he said. He took the opportunity to let his eyes wander over her beautiful dress, its flowery pattern so perfectly Quinn.

"I'm really looking forward to meeting him tonight Quinn, I promise."

Quinn smiled and pulled Blaine a little closer.

"Thank you," she said, her whispered breath tickling his chin, "It means a lot to me that he meets you, that he gets what this is all about," she said, indicating their relationship. Blaine nodded in understanding. It was only as they left to get a taxi together that she casually mentioned she had invited both Rachel and Kurt again too.

"Now, FYI Rupert is acting as a potential client tonight," Quinn whispered to Blaine as they prepared to enter the bar and Blaine nodded in understanding. He could barely speak with the thought of meeting Kurt again that night and he hated that he felt so underprepared. What was he to say in explanation? Although he knew it was childish, he felt the barrier rising again and he decided he would pretend it hadn't happened, brush it aside as if it was nothing. He would talk of the boutique, finalise plans as part owner and act as a professional.

Blaine and Quinn arrived before Rupert, Kurt or Rachel so Blaine bought them both glasses of wine and they stood milling with fellow lawyers and financial whizzes. Rupert approached and alerted Quinn to his presence by a gentle tap on her elbow.

"Rupert," she said a little too eagerly and Blaine silently asked her to tone it down. "So glad you could come. This is my husband Blaine."

Her eyes were so perfectly green in that moment, her cheekbones so exquisite that Blaine instantly understood why Rupert would fall for her. She looked eagerly at them both as they shook hands.

"Nice to meet you Rupert," Blaine said politely, taking his hand and admiring his firm handshake. Rupert gave no indication he knew the truth and merely smiled in greeting.

"I've heard so much about you Blaine," Rupert said, "It's nice to finally be able to put a face to the name." Rupert was dressed as impeccably as Blaine, though a little more tailored. His suit was dark and simple but his white shirt was tight and open at the neck to reveal a toned darker chest, despite the crop of blonde hair on his head. Quinn stood so close to Rupert they had practically linked arms and her quick glances between Blaine and Rupert made it so obvious that she only wanted tonight to be successful. She found them a table amidst their friends and they carried on their conversation.

"So what do you do Rupert?' Blaine asked.

"I'm an accountant," Rupert said, grimacing, "I know, sorry." He laughed as Quinn pretended to pull a silly face. "Quinn here is helping me with a few legalities in my new role with some of my clients." He said it confidently, like he had clearly rehearsed it with Quinn beforehand and she nodded.

"Well Quinn is very good at her job," Blaine said smiling, "I know she'll help you anyway she can." A beat of silence, a nod from Rupert and they understood each other. Blaine wondered when he had started to speak only in riddles.

Kurt and Rachel arrived soon after; all trace of previous nervous energy seemed to have disappeared from Rachel who entered confidently. Her short shorts exposed her greatest assets and she beamed, seeming to know a few glances were directed her way. She waved at Quinn and Blaine as soon as she saw them and walked over, allowing Kurt to buy drinks.

"Quinn!" she exclaimed as soon as she came over, "How are you?" she aired kissed her cheeks and Quinn did the same, loving the pretension and the idea of being unattainable. Blaine couldn't help but smile. Kurt soon brought their drinks over and they all sat down. He nodded to Blaine in greeting, who smiled in return, no mention of the inadvertent kiss on the cheek.

They all exchanged such pleasant conversation, laughter bubbling up in places, that after a while Blaine didn't realise work colleagues were there and he started to feel like he was warmer and fuzzier around the edges. Maybe it was the bowtie, he thought, that had given him more confidence, helped him to disregard others around him. He let Rupert share stories of his workplace and Rachel laugh about the stresses and strains of Broadway and all her hopes and dreams. Quinn moaned about her workload in the office now she was working towards partnership and Blaine could only agree. Although he knew he could never share what he really felt about his profession, how stifled he felt working for an organisation he hated and a father that was standoffish at best, he could laugh at the musings of others and understand their feeling.

Every so often Kurt would glance his way and smile, or laugh with Quinn as she discussed particularly difficult wealthy clients, and appear to search Blaine's face as if he was seeking the truth. Blaine would often catch his gaze, wonder what he was thinking then turn his face again to someone else that was speaking.

As the drinks continued to flow, one by one, Blaine or Quinn's colleagues left, leaving the now much smaller group giggling and talking like they had known each other for years. The night wore on, the alcohol making them a little sleepy, and as the bar prepared to close, discussions became a little more intimate, words whispered closer. Rachel was finally opening up to Quinn about her jealousy and how she longed to be on Broadway in a major role and Rupert was smiling, giving words of encouragement, leaving Blaine and Kurt to discuss the boutique, now they were alone.

"I sent off the papers this morning," Kurt said happily, "But I wondered if we could discuss the part owner side in a little more detail, if you had a bit of time?"

"Sure," Blaine said eagerly, his head feeling a little fuzzy with wine, "Are you free in a couple of days? We could discuss it over lunch sometime?"

Kurt's face lit up. "I'd love to, that sounds great. I'm free Thursday, if you are at all?"

"Perfect," Blaine said. "You don't regret the decision though?" He looked a little worried.

"Oh no," Kurt said quickly, "I just wondered what it would entail, how much of a say you wanted in the running of the boutique."

Blaine nodded. As a quiet hum settled over the bar, Kurt looked over at Rupert, Quinn and Rachel who were huddled together and sharing secrets it seemed.

"Rupert seems a lovely guy," he said, "He's fitted in very quickly, for a client," he finished and Blaine looked over too. He supposed they looked a little too close to be in a client-lawyer relationship but he confidently met Kurt's eye.

"I know Quinn is very professional and wants the best for all her clients but some are more like friends I guess."

"I think you're right," Kurt said, his gaze remaining at the other table.

They met on Thursday as agreed, Blaine with his stack of papers and his idea for how much he would be involved and Kurt smiled.

"That seems fair," Kurt said as he looked over the agreement.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean you will own only 20% and the initial investment seems a fair amount based on the profits I predict in the next year."

"Good, I was worried I was underplaying how much you will make in the first year."

"Are you kidding me Blaine?" Kurt said incredulously, "I just worry you've completely exaggerated my selling power and you'll be disappointed."

"You work for an amazing designer," Blaine said, "That on its own would be incredible but I've seen your designs and they're fantastic Kurt." He seemed to look in the distance, not catching Kurt's eye and continued in a near whisper. "They move me."

The admission left a silence that Kurt didn't know how to end. Blaine looked like he wanted to inch closer, his fingers twitching on his knee, his eyes searching Kurt's.

"No one's ever said that before, about my designs," Kurt said quietly.

Blaine shook his head slowly coming out of his daze.

"I don't understand," he said, "I'm really looking forward to working with you, I think it'll be good for me to see someone achieve their dreams."

Kurt thought it was an odd thing to say.

"You won't achieve your own?"

Blaine looked surprised.

"I work, I earn money, I don't get a choice," he said matter-of-factly.

"Blaine, everyone should get a chance to dream and go for their goals no matter how many years you've been working. Tell me, what do you really want to do with your life?"

Blaine was startled. No one had ever asked him such a question and he didn't know how to answer it. His father had expected him to follow his career, it made a lot of money, it was the logical choice. Blaine's own opinion was irrelevant. Kurt was expecting an answer.

"Oh how silly," Kurt said suddenly, chuckling to himself. "You sing, that's what you should do with your life."

Blaine still didn't know what to say. Kurt knew already, with hardly really knowing Blaine at all he had guessed at his very soul.

"I'm too settled in my job, I couldn't leave and what would I do?" Blaine scoffed, "Bar hop in the hope that I might get a chance to sing, that someone might pay for me to entertain them?" He laughed with no humour in his voice at all. "I would be ridiculous."

Kurt refused to laugh.

"It wouldn't be ridiculous," he said and Blaine looked down at the warm hand that now rested on his wrist. Kurt looked so earnest.

"What have you got to lose? You'd start off small, carrying on with the places you frequent anyway, suggest they pay you and you could perhaps earn enough to leave your current job. You also have Quinn."

"Quinn?"

"Yes, to support you. Surely she earns enough to allow you to strive for your dreams too?"

Blaine hadn't thought of their income as a joint income. They still had separate bank accounts, shared bills but had their own money. The thought of taking handouts from Quinn was abhorrent though and what would his father think?

"I don't think my father would approve," Blaine said sadly and Kurt's hand vanished slowly.

"Does that matter?" Kurt asked innocently and Blaine felt like laughing again though he stopped when he realised Kurt was serious.

"Yes, just a little."

"Well," Kurt said not sure how to answer, "Sometimes life is worth the risk. Sometimes… only if we're willing to walk over the edge can we become winners."

Blaine continued to stare at Kurt as if he was facing his own cliff and he had a chance to walk further and potentially fall or fly. One look in those blue grey eyes that were so kind and soft and Blaine believed he could soar too. He nodded.

"Come out tonight," Blaine said suddenly, a rush of words out of his mouth and Kurt beamed in surprise.

"What's happening tonight?" Kurt asked.

"I'm singing at this bar I sometimes go to on my own. Quinn won't be there, she has some kind of conference call with a client abroad."

Kurt nodded.

"You can hear me sing and we can discuss proper plans for your boutique and…" he said, breathless in his hurry to get the words out. "And it'll be fun," he finished.

"I'd love to hear you sing again."

"Good, that's settled, I'll pick you up and we can get a taxi together. Type your address and number into my phone," he said, handing the gadget to Kurt who although taken aback, did as instructed.

"I'll pick you up at seven and we can eat first," Blaine said as he stood up. "I have to leave now for another appointment but I'll see you tonight Kurt. Thanks again."

He leant in, brushed his fingers along Kurt's arm and he was gone, leaving Kurt wondering what on earth tonight was going to be.

It was Kurt's turn to stand in front of the mirror now and inspect his appearance. He looked good, he knew, once again in one of his own creations but he wasn't sure if he had misunderstood the gravity of tonight. It sounded so much like a date, Kurt was almost sure of it but he thought again and shook his head at himself in the mirror. Of course it wasn't a date – Blaine was married to his high school friend, was definitely straight – but he had kissed his cheek just the other week, if only briefly and he was very touchy feely for a straight guy. He had worn such a fantastic bowtie the other night, perfectly complimenting his grey outfit and he clearly loved fashion, though Kurt knew he was more conservative in his attire. There was just something about Blaine that Kurt couldn't fathom. He would watch him play the piano, sing to himself and the light above him would shine over his head as if to illuminate his beauty and beg people to watch him. Blaine would sometimes reveal just a little about himself, just a touch of his truth and Kurt would be left wanting more, grasping for anything Blaine was willing to give. He knew Blaine was hiding something and he guessed it was concerning his father but he just didn't know. Blaine was a mystery and an intriguing one and although Kurt knew he was setting himself up to fall, he couldn't stay away. He needed to know more, to let himself sink into those warm brown eyes, to discover the truth.

Blaine picked Kurt up, arriving five minutes early in his nervous state. He carried something behind his back when he knocked on Kurt's door and as it opened he revealed a single yellow rose to Kurt who was dressed impeccably in a white shirt and dark grey jacket, both using interesting zip detail. His dark skinny jeans left Blaine temporarily speechless.

"Wow, thank you," Kurt said, taking the rose though Blaine had yet to offer it to him.

"Oh yeah I thought of you when I saw it," Blaine said recovering and closing his mouth. "It signifies new beginnings."

"That's really thoughtful," he said, "Do you want a drink before we head out?"
Blaine shook his head.

"If you don't mind I'd love to show you this café," Blaine said a little sheepishly, "I mean it's not a posh restaurant but I kind of love it there with all its simplicity and they make the best pancakes."

"Pancakes?" Kurt said laughing, "I thought we were having dinner?"

"Oh you'll want to have breakfast, lunch and dinner at this place, it's amazing!" Blaine looked so utterly happy, his face stretched into a youthful grin, that Kurt couldn't be expected to remain calm; he linked arms with Blaine as if they were in The Wizard of Oz and asked him to lead the way.

If Blaine was worried by the linking of arms he didn't show it as they hailed a taxi to the café. He was wearing a stripy top with a maroon cardigan that made him look both cosy and sexy, bringing out the warmth in his eyes and making Kurt smile as he chatted happily about the place they were going.

"I know the lady that owns the place, in fact I've known her since I moved to New York. When I was at college, had just come to this big scary city and didn't know anyone, I stumbled upon this little café and she took it upon herself to feed me up. She used to mutter something about how I needed to grow a little more. Every year she makes a comment that she's still waiting." He chuckled and Kurt thought it was an adorable sound.

"Everyone needs someone like that in their life," Kurt said smiling in return, the grin on Blaine's face infectious.

"Who's that for you?"

"This dragon of a lady that works as my line manager at work," Kurt said laughing. "She's not as mean as she thinks she is and is actually a great laugh to have in the office but if you cross her…" Kurt indicated a miserable death. Blaine laughed.

"You should take her with you," Blaine said, "When you open your boutique."

Kurt's expression became serious. "I don't know if she'd go, I think she loves her job too much."

"No harm in asking," Blaine said shrugging his shoulders, "I'd love to meet her anyway."

"And I can't wait to meet this lady of the café," Kurt said smiling then Blaine glanced up as the window of the taxi revealed they had arrived at the right place.

"You won't have to wait long."

They hopped out of the taxi, Blaine generously tipping and he swung the door of the café open dramatically. Kurt was very surprised to see this side of Blaine, once considered and sensible, now carefree and happy.

"Belle?" Blaine practically shouted and Kurt was a little embarrassed at the volume until he looked around at the customers. Everyone seemed to recognise Blaine and greet him warmly then one slightly plump lady came out from the back. She was a lot younger than Kurt had imagined, probably only a couple of years older than Blaine. Her blue eyes twinkled happily when Blaine came bounding towards her and she enveloped him in a hug, her eyes alighting on Kurt. She looked surprised.

"Who's this?"

"Oh Belle, this is Kurt," he said, "Kurt, meet the love of my life Belle."

Belle's cheeks tinted pink as Kurt shook her hand.

"You must be special yourself if Blaine brought you here," she said directly to Kurt, "No one has been invited here before."

Kurt was taken aback and Blaine rushed to get them a table and some menus before Kurt could think too much about the comment. Belle promised them some coffee and she disappeared out the back.

"Quinn's not been here?" Kurt asked quietly once they were seated. Blaine pretended to be engrossed in the menu.

"No, it's not really her kind of place," Blaine said without looking up, "And I normally like coming here alone."

Kurt let the comment slide and perused the menu himself.

"So what should I have? Do you really recommend just the pancakes?"

"For your first visit, definitely but you'll want to have a slice of her banana cake too, the butter cream icing is to die for." Blaine looked like he was practically drooling at the memory of it all and Kurt thought he suddenly looked ten years younger without a care in the world. The image of the sketch in his office appeared before his mind, this time without the red tatty fence.

"What can I get you boys?" Belle asked as she brought their coffees over.

"I'll have my usual," Blaine said.

"I'll start with the pancakes first please," Kurt said.

"Great," Belle said excitedly and she walked away with just a fleeting touch along Blaine's upper arm.

"I wanted to show you a few new sketches," Kurt said, "They're of my new character, the man by the fence."

Blaine's eyes widened in expectation as Kurt rummaged in his satchel and brought the papers out. Blaine ran his fingers over the outlines of the new sketches, the man displaying quite a change as more sketches were brought out. Just a hint of colour, in a bowtie or a jacket then his outfits became bolder, tighter or more colourful as the sketches were revealed.

"What caused your sudden inspiration?" Blaine asked and Kurt worried his bottom lip before revealing the truth.

"You actually," he said though he was quick to dispute the idea that the guy was based on Blaine. "The bowtie you wore a few days ago, the red with black stripes?" Blaine nodded. "You were wearing grey and it just seemed to pop out: the colour, the need to express yourself. I guess even that guy by the fence needs to show his true colours."

"Do you sometimes feel like that guy by the fence?" Blaine suddenly whispered.

Kurt studied his quiet expression, the silent pleading in his eyes the only indication that Blaine struggled with something.

"Yes sometimes," Kurt said, "I think we all do."

"How do you get over it? How do you learn to take risks and strive for what you want anyway?" Blaine asked because he really wanted to know.

"Because the alternative is so terrible Blaine," Kurt said quietly but so intensely that Blaine thought he could see into his mind, his eyes so piercingly blue and his face a few inches closer. "To live like a caged animal, always afraid of something or someone, well it isn't really living. I couldn't bear the thought that I was wasting a day; life is so precious. I suppose I learnt that lesson quite well."

Blaine sat back, digesting the comment as Belle returned with their pancakes. She glanced at Blaine, then Kurt and back to Blaine – confused at Blaine's silence and wondering what she had interrupted.

"Blaine, are you ok?"

"Oh yeah," he said realising she was there, "I'm great." He eyed the pancakes greedily and thanked her as she bustled off again.

They ate in silence, each deep in their own thoughts it seemed and the pancakes really were delicious and well worth the killer session at the gym that Kurt knew would have to come tomorrow.

"How do you know that so well?" Blaine said, interrupting the gentle hum of comfort eating. Kurt looked up in question. "What you said about life being precious, how do you know?"

"Because of my Mom," he said slowly digesting a mouthful of pancake. "She died when I was eight."

"Oh god Kurt I'm so sorry," Blaine said, looking distraught that he had made Kurt mention it.

"Don't worry," Kurt said kindly, "It's a tough topic to mention I guess but I try to live everyday as if it might be my last, just in case I waste opportunities or take life too slowly. Everyday is a chance to play dress up or to sing a great song or to create an amazing outfit. I don't want to miss a thing."

Blaine said nothing but his eyes said it all. They flitted across Kurt's face, taking in his wide blue eyes, his sweet smile, his well coiffed hair. He was such an amazing man, already teaching him so much about life with only a few weeks in his company, that Blaine felt he should give him something.

"I constantly waste my life," he said mournfully.

"Then don't," Kurt said earnestly, coming closer and gently touching Blaine's hand where it rested on the table. "Take every opportunity for greatness, love only great loves and dream big."

"Is that a quote?" Blaine said smiling, "It sounds like it should be a quote."

Kurt laughed.

"Just the wisdom of Kurt Hummel," he said.

"I think I need to sing," Blaine said after a while and they finished eating, waving goodbye to Belle as they left.

The bar was nearly empty, the only barman polishing the bar for what appeared to be the tenth time, its shiny surface gleaming under the lights above. He looked up and smiled when he saw Blaine and Kurt: customers.

"What can I get you guys?"

"A gin and tonic," Blaine said swiftly and Kurt said he'd drink the same. They swivelled in their bar seats to admire the white piano on centre stage, lonely in its place.

"Do you normally play with so few to listen?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah," Blaine said shrugging, "I don't play to perform, not anymore. I play for the beauty of the music and the peace it brings."

"Did you used to perform quite a bit?"

"Before college," Blaine said nodding, "Once I started studying there didn't appear to be time for music."

Just the sadness of that statement made Blaine realise that he had been so foolish. He would remedy that, he would try. He gave an optimistic smile to Kurt before downing his drink and standing.

"I'd love to sing to you though," Blaine said feeling the confident warmth of the gin and tonic course through his veins. Kurt beamed.

"No one apart from Rachel has ever sung to me before," Kurt said giggling.

"Well I've never sung to anyone before," Blaine said smiling, "Not even Quinn."

The weight of that statement was lost as Blaine quickly walked to the piano and Kurt watched as his fingers tinkled along the keys, feeling the instrument out. Notes turned into a melody and Blaine started to sing, his eyes resolutely placed down.

Little ghost, you're listening,

Unlike most you don't miss a thing,

You see the truth.

I walk the halls invisibly,

I climb the walls, no one sees me,

No one but you.

Blaine looked up, his eyes meeting Kurt's, and a ghost of a smile graced his lips.

You've always loved the strange birds

Now I want to fly into your world

I want to be heard

My wounded wings still beating,

You've always loved the stranger inside…

Me, ugly pretty.

Kurt had an image of a trapped bird, its wings fluttering within the trap even though escape was futile. Kurt wanted to help.

Oh little ghost, you see the pain

But together we can make something beautiful.

Blaine pressed harder on the keys, adamant that he would be understood but Kurt was even more confused. Did Blaine mean the two of them?

So take my hand and perfectly,

We fill the gaps, you and me make three,

I was meant for you, and you for me.

Blaine had said he was singing to Kurt and yet his eyes stayed down, just the declaration in music. Kurt watched, his eyes teary, his mouth trembling.

You've always loved the strange birds

Now I want to fly into your world

I want to be heard.

My wounded wings still beating,

You've always loved the stranger inside…

Me, ugly pretty.

As Blaine played 'til the end, the wail of the music continuing, Kurt felt himself rise from his bar stool but instead of inch forward he stayed, his feet rooted to their spot. Blaine suddenly returned his gaze to Kurt as the music slowed, his voice barely singing, his eyes burning into Kurt's.

You've always loved the strange birds

Now I want to fly into your world

I want to be heard.

My wounded wings still beating,

You've always loved the stranger inside…

Me, ugly pretty.

And Kurt thought in that moment that he could love this strange bird, this guy that just wanted to be free but he couldn't help him. He remained small at the piano and Kurt itched to help, so desperately wanted to see and understand. Blaine remained at the piano even as his fingers left the keys. He couldn't take his eyes away from Kurt, searching his gaze for some kind of meaning. Kurt came forward and finally stood in front of Blaine, who looked up at Kurt from his piano stool.

"What is it my strange bird?" Kurt said, a hint of a smile on his lips and Blaine returned it.

"I want to be heard."

"What do you want to say?" Kurt whispered, taking the time to crouch so he was eye level with Blaine.

Blaine looked and considered telling Kurt the truth: that he was gay and in a sexless marriage with someone that would never complete him, that he was living a lie, that he was falling for a guy that he could never have. But he looked at Kurt, so innocently staring back and he couldn't do it, couldn't reveal such truth. Instead he said another truth.

"Tonight has been perfect."

Kurt wasn't expecting such simple sentiment and he recognised it for the cover up it was but he smiled anyway.

"It has," he said, "I don't really want it to end."

Blaine's eyes twinkled.

"Who said it had to?"