Kurt and Blaine began spending more time together, though they never actually discussed it. Kurt would sometimes show up at the bookshop out of the blue, to share coffee and bagels from the Lima Bean. Other times, Blaine stayed the night at Kurt's place, which happened at least twice a week. Mostly, though, it meant Kurt went home with Blaine after he closed on Saturday, and they didn't come back to Lima until Monday morning. Blaine could tell that Kurt liked to get away to his apartment on the weekends. He was happy to provide Kurt with a haven when he couldn't deal with Lima anymore.

Today was one of those coffee and bagel mornings. Blaine smiled up at Kurt from behind the counter when he pushed the door open with his hip, making the bell sound gently above him.

"Good morning," Blaine said happily.

Kurt carefully placed their breakfast on the counter. "Good morning to you, too."

They didn't kiss there in the store. That was the only thing that bothered Blaine about these mornings. But he couldn't blame Kurt, or push him. He wanted to respect his boundaries, and kissing in broad daylight when anyone could walk in was definitely off limits.

So the gentle brush of fingers when Blaine reached for his breakfast had to suffice.

"They didn't have any bagels left, so I brought you a cinnamon roll," Kurt informed him as he opened the paper bag.

"Oh, that's even better," Blaine beamed, as he sipped his coffee, finding it was exactly as he liked it. He watched Kurt over the edge of his cup. "You look a little tired," he commented when he lowered it.

Kurt shrugged. "I just want to finish the Donovan's bathroom and get the hell out of there."

"Have they said anything unpleasant again?" Blaine asked, frowning.

"Not directly," Kurt sipped his coffee and sighed. "But I found a pamplet from their church in my toolbox yesterday. Mrs. Donovan must have put it there when I wan't looking. It says something like follow God's six steps to cure your homosexuality," he made air quotes, visibly annoyed. "And I'm pretty sure she sprayed holy water on me when I was leaving."

"Oh Kurt..." Blaine reached across the counter and put his hand on his forearm.

"It's fine," Kurt shrugged again. "I was thinking about leaving pictures of gay porn all over their house for them to find once I'm paid for the job."

Blaine chuckled. "You're awful."

"They're worse," Kurt muttered. "But you know why I won't do it? Because, unlike them, I'm not the kind of guy who goes around trying to shove my beliefs down people's throats. They can have their warped ideas of heaven, hell, sinners, and whatever. I get to suck dick, and that's always a lot more fun than praying."

Blaine almost choked on his coffee.

Kurt smirked teasingly and pushed the paper bag towards him. "Eat your cinnamon roll, honey."

It was really, really hard to not kiss him right then.

*

On the following Saturday, Blaine went home on his own. Kurt had promised Carly he would go shopping with her to see if they could find the perfect wedding dress. Blaine had to bite his tongue to stop himself from suggesting Kurt design it himself. He knew it wouldn't lead to anything good.

So instead, he drove back from Lima after closing the shop, and stopped in the grocery store to buy everything he needed to cook dinner for Kurt when he finally made it to his apartment. He wandered around the aisles, considering different options, loading his cart with mushrooms, pasta, steak and lettuce, not sure what he was in the mood for. He made a little detour for more lube and condoms, blushing a little. It was amazing how quickly they ran through those...

Before going home, he made another stop at one of their favorite bakeries, and bought a huge slice of cheesecake for dessert to surprise Kurt.

Blaine loved doing things to please Kurt, even if they were just little details. He loved being the one to put a smile on his face, and make him forget a long day at a job he hated. Cooking his favorite meals, giving him a massage, drawing him a bath, Blaine was eager to do anything to make Kurt feel a little better at the end of the day.

He just really, really yearned to see Kurt happy.

Blaine put the groceries away, deciding to make a mushroom, ham, and cheese quiche. It was a recipe he'd seen in one of the cook books at the book store, while scanning through it when he was bored. The picture had made his mouth water, so he was going to give it a shot.

He made the crust himself – Kurt would be so proud – before he moved on to slicing mushrooms, careful to cut them the perfect size. That's when he heard the knock on the door.

"It's open!" He shouted.

"Hello?" Kurt's voice travelled through the apartment.

"Kitchen!" Blaine called back.

Kurt walked into the kitchen in his socks. "Hey."

"Hey," Blaine grinned at him from where he was working at the counter. "How was shopping?"

"Very successful," Kurt answered, leaning against the doorway. "We went to several stores, but we managed to find three she really liked. Now she has to narrow down the options to choose one. I can't put into words how happy I am that I don't have to make that decision, because they were all exquisitely beautiful. I almost had to elbow a woman so she wouldn't take one of them."

"Sounds a little intense," Blaine commented, amused.

"It was. And my boots were killing me. I couldn't wait to take them off," he pouted at Blaine in a way that shouldn't have been allowed. "Would you be willing to give me a foot rub later?"

"Of course," Blaine answered without hesitation. "But I think you need to get more comfortable first. I'll be putting this in the oven in five minutes, so you still have time for a shower, if you want."

"That sounds heavenly," Kurt walked further into the kitchen until he was standing behind Blaine. He wrapped his arms around his waist and nuzzled his jaw until Blaine turned his head enough for him to kiss him. "I'll go put my bag in your bedroom and then I'll shower quickly."

"Okay," Blaine pecked him again before he pulled away. "Go relax."

Kurt smiled contentedly, and then disappeared down the hall.

Blaine couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he listened to Kurt move around in his apartment, his lips still tingling with the vestiges of their kiss. Blaine had never before been entirely happy with his life, but tonight, as he cooked dinner for the man he was in love with, who was going to stay the night, and would fall asleep cuddling with, he was the happiest man on earth.

The bubble popped far too soon.

"What's this?"

Blaine spun around, surprised at the sharp tone in Kurt's voice, only to find him glaring at him with a few sheets of paper clutched in his hands. "What, sweetheart?"

"This," Kurt repeated, showing him the drawings, the sketches with their perfect lines Blaine had stolen from the Hummels' basement.

Kurt had found the sketches.

"I..."

"What's this doing in your house?" Kurt snapped, harshly. "And why are there multiple copies of each one? What the hell are you doing with them, Blaine?"

Blaine had seen Kurt in many different moods since they had first met. This wasn't the first time he'd seen him so angry, but it was the first time that anger was strictly directed at Blaine, and it chilled him to his bones.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and tried his best to explain. "I-I found them in your Dad's basement when we were looking for the home videos, and they were so incredibly beautiful. I didn't think, I just took them, Kurt. I'm sorry."

"That still doesn't answer my question," Kurt spat at him, his eyes glaring, their icy blue stabbing him painfully. "You had no right to take them, Blaine. These are my private property."

"I know they are," Blaine answered quietly. "And it was never my intention to overstep. I just..."

"Why did you make copies of them?" Kurt interrupted impatiently.

"I sent them with applications for jobs at fashion houses, pretending to be you," Blaine blurted out, heart racing in his chest.

The silence that followed was filled with foreboding. Blaine watched with a sense of dread as Kurt's eyes went wide, his mouth dropped agape, and his fingers clenched the sheets of paper.

"You did what?" He breathed out. Nothing in Blaine's life had ever sounded more frightening than that strangled whisper, so full of wrath that it shook.

"You don't deserve to be stuck here, living a life you hate," Blaine declared quickly, hoping Kurt would let him explain before – if – he exploded. "You're so incredibly talented, Kurt. There's no reason for you to deal with the crap you get here every day. You should be thriving there, being the amazing, unique person you are, not hiding your creative talent behind a toolbelt and pretending that you're someone different..."

"You had no right..." Kurt managed to say, his whole body shaking wth fury.

"No, maybe I didn't," Blaine continued, taking a hesitant step towards him. "But I just want you to be happy, and we both know you'll never be happy like this. I knew you wouldn't ever do it yourself, I knew you've given up, so I decided to do it myself. Your designs are amazing, Kurt. That's what you should be doing every day. You don't belong here."

Kurt was panting shallowly, his whole body vibrating with barely contained emotions.

"You might have given up, Kurt, but not me. I haven't given up on you at all," Blaine said, eyes wet with tears he refused to cry.

"Well," Kurt murmured, and Blaine couldn't read anything from that single word. "This is me giving up on you, Blaine Anderson."

He turned around, clearly ready to storm out of the apartment. Blaine reacted immediately, running after him and blocking his way out.

"Wait, no..."

"You might think you're doing me a favor, but you're an idiot," Kurt exclaimed, his voice rising. "You believe in all those stupid fairy tales, as if life could be something wonderful. You want me to pin my hopes and dreams on a magical wish come true, but for what? So I end up even more devastated than I already am? I'm tired, Blaine, and all I want is to get through my days without finding yet another reason to hate everything and everyone." He put a finger against Blaine's chest, stabbing him with it with every word. "I thought you were different. I thought you would understand. I let you in, I gave you a chance, and in return you did... this?"

"Kurt, I only did it because I thought it would be best for you to..."

"You did it because this damaged version of me isn't good enough for you," Kurt replied furiously. "It was all I had to offer and you didn't like it. Well, you know what? Fuck you, Blaine. I'm the best I know how to be to survive in this place, and that didn't mean a goddamn thing to you..."

"I just wanted to help!" Blaine said desperately.

"I never asked for your help!" Kurt shouted. "For fucking once, I was actually happy to wake up in the morning, and you had to go and re-open every damn healed over wound..."

"That's not what I wanted..." Blaine murmured weakly, defeated.

"Well, it's what you've done. Thank you for reminding me that all I'm good for is fixing bathrooms for a homophobic asshole, and that the only thing I can expect out of my life is for it to last long enough that my Dad doesn't have to bury another member of his family."

"Kurt..." Blaine was helplessly crying now, a huge lump stuck in his throat, chest throbbing with pain.

"I don't ever want to see you again, Blaine," Kurt said, his face dead white and his eyes completely expressionless. "I'm done with you."

"Kurt!" Blaine tried to stop him, but Kurt was strong, determined and profoundly wounded, so pushing past a distraught Blaine didn't take much effort. He slammed the door shut behind him, walking out of Blaine's life.

Blaine slumped feebly against the wall, shocked by how his night had gone from blissfully happy to wretchedly miserable so quickly. He buried his fingers in his hair, tugging at it in despair, wishing he could figure out how to fix what he knew was only damaged, and Kurt was convinced was broken beyond repair.

*

Blaine spent the next few days numbly staring with his eyes alternately fixed to the book store's door, to his cellphone, or driving the streets of Lima, hoping to see Kurt. But Kurt was nowhere to be seen, because he didn't want Blaine to find him. He'd said it very clearly; he was done with him.

But Blaine wasn't done with Kurt. Not yet and not ever.

*

A bouquet of white and pink tulips was delivered to Kurt's house. There was a very simple note in it: I'm sorry. – B.

*

Blaine had never preferred to sleep on one side of the bed, but now he realized he always left the right side empty, as if he was waiting for Kurt to slip in next to him during the night.

The right side of the bed was always cold and empty in the morning.

*

One Thursday night Blaine went to one of the best delis in Lima to get some dinner. He hadn't been in the mood for cooking - he always ended up cooking enough for two, and that was just too sad.

He was waiting to pick up his order when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He turned around in surprise and found Carole's gentle eyes on him.

"Hi, Blaine."

"Mrs. Hummel! Hi!" He exclaimed in surprise. He really wasn't expecting to see her there. He hoped she didn't notice how dishveled he looked – he didn't take enough time in the mornings to properly gel his hair, and he was sure the dark marks under his eyes were easily visible from behind his glasses.

"How are you doing, honey?" Carole asked, her sympathetic tone of voice only confirming that of course she'd noticed.

"I'm doing okay," he said a little hesitantly, not sure how much she knew. And then, before he could help himself: "how's Kurt?"

A little, sad smile tugged at Carole's lips. "Well, he says he's fine too..." Clearly, she didn't believe either of them.

Blaine nodded. He knew what she meant. Kurt always said he was fine, even when he wasn't, when he hadn't really been fine in a very, very long time.

"Look, Blaine..." Carole took a step towards him, so only he could hear her. "He didn't tell us what happened. He just suddenly stopped talking about you and ignored every question we asked him. But you were good for him and you seemed so good together. Burt and I were so relieved and so happy when you two found each other. You were exactly what Kurt needed after so many years of being miserable and lonely." She sighed. "I know we don't know each other very well, but it's easy to tell that you care about him deeply. So I'm asking you... no matter what happened, please, don't give up and let him go. He needs you. When he was with you, he was the most alive I've seen him in years. I hate to see him going back to walking around, so... so faded and... lifeless, as if he's just killing time."

They called her name to pick up the food she'd ordered before Blaine could find something coherent to say. She grabbed the bag with the containers and then turned briefly back to Blaine.

"It was really nice seeing you, Blaine," she said sweetly. "I hope I'll see you again."

"Me too, Mrs. Hummel," he whispered, a little hopelessly. "Me too."

Carole squeezed his shoulder before leaving, giving him one last smile that conveyed encouragement and desperation.

Blaine's name was called then, but he'd lost his appetite. He drove back home – the songs playing on the radio haunting him. Kurt wasn't there to fight him on which station to listen to, or to hum along to the ones he liked.

*

"Dear, I'm worried about you."

Blaine blinked at his mother, sitting across the table from him, frowning. He tried to laugh it off. "Mom, you're always worried about me."

"I'm not are-you-eating-enough worried. I'm not even are-you-sure-you-aren't-coming-down-with-a-cold worried. I'm truly, truly worried, Blaine." Heather sighed and put her menu down.

Blaine scanned the options for lunch a lot more intently. "I'm okay."

"You're not. You flinch every time I mention Kurt, for example," Heather pointed out, and when Blaine did exactly that, she added, "like right now. See?"

"Fine," Blaine conceded, tiredly. "But I don't want to talk about it."

"Did you two break up?" She asked, ignoring him.

Blaine closed his eyes briefly. "I haven't heard from him in almost two weeks," he snapped. "So if that means we broke up, then I guess the answer is yes."

"Oh, Blaine," she said sadly. "What happened?"

Blaine's eyes were suddenly filling with tears. "Can we please, please just not talk about it?"

"Darling, no offense, but I think talking about it is exactly what you need," she patted his hand gently.

Blaine wiped his tears as discretely as he could. "I can't. I just can't."

"Alright," she whispered in a soothing voice. "We don't have to talk now. But I'm here whenever you're ready, Blaine."

But Blaine didn't want to talk about losing Kurt. He just wanted to get him back.

*

There were a million ways to be distracted, and Blaine was sure he'd tried them all already, each and every one of them unsuccessfully. He couldn't stop his mind from revisiting every moment he'd spent with Kurt, to counting the time without him (two weeks, one day, fourteen hours and twenty one minutes). The book store had memories of Kurt in every inch of it: Kurt getting hurt when that part of the ceiling fell on him, kissing him so desperately against the wall that wasn't there anymore, the Alice dress still in the window... everything, absolutely everything, was permeated with Kurt.

He had just finished dusting the shelves for the thousandth time, and decided to check his emails (also for the thousandth time, as if he'd ever received emails from interesting people), when it happened.

Blaine's heart stilled for a moment, as he stared at the words on his screen.

*

Blaine forced himself to wait until closing time, which would, hopefully, be long enough to calm down a little.

It was Friday. There was only one place he could go to.

It was drizzling gently when he closed the book store and got into his car. The drive was short, silent and tense. Seeing the familiar two-story house in front of him, its driveway crowded with cars, made him feel a rush of longing; longing for its warm, its company, its welcoming embrace.

When he stood on the porch, damp from the light rain, he could hear their voices. He wished he could just open the door, go in and join them, and forget about how miserable he'd been for the past weeks, and show him how to smile again. Instead, he knocked on the white wood gently, his left hand, clenching an envelope.

The door opened only seconds later, even before Blaine had time to take a deep breath. It was Carole, standing there with a hesitant smile as he watched him, eyes wide in surprise.

"Blaine! Hi, dear."

Blaine cleared his throat. "Hi. I'm sorry for interrupting your family dinner night, but I just really need to talk to Kurt."

Carole glanced quickly behind her and into the house, before turning back to him with a sigh. "I'm not sure today's a good day, Blaine. He's in a really terrible mood."

"I don't care," Blaine replied quietly. "This can't wait."

Biting her lip, Carole nodded. "Kurt!" She called out, her eyes still on Blaine.

"Yes?" His voice came from somewhere else, and Blaine could've cried in relief. Even hearing his voice was enough to lighten all the sadness he'd felt since the last time they saw each other.

Carole put a hand on Blaine's arm briefly. "Good luck," she whispered, and then disappeared back into the house.

The three seconds it took Kurt to replace her at the door were full of anxiety, but Blaine knew he had to risk it. He knew that even if Kurt resented him interfering, at least he had tried.

Kurt's face was already crossly bitter when he stood in front of Blaine, but it morphed into something darker when he saw who was there. "Why would you come here, Blaine?"

"I know you're really mad at me," Blaine started quickly so Kurt wouldn't leave before he said what he had to say. "I understand that and I know apologizing didn't change anything, but I'm here to apologize again... this time for apologizing in the first place," he swallowed the lump in his throat and continued. "I'm not sorry at all for believing in you, in your talent, in your ability to be the man you're destined to be. I'm not sorry I wanted to help you..."

"I don't want to hear any more about it, Blaine, I already told you that..." Kurt managed to interject, harshly.

"Well, you'll only have to listen for another minute," Blaine interrupted, fighting the urge to adjust his glasses on his nose. He wouldn't show how nervous he was. "Because you may be done with dreaming, but I can dream well enough for both of us." He raised his left hand, extending the white, slightly damp and wrinkled envelope in Kurt's direction.

"What's that?" Kurt asked, desdain dripping from his words.

It's an act, it's all an act, Blaine reminded himself. He knew Kurt. He knew this was his defense mechanism.

"Just open it," Blaine said, thrusting the envelope towards him more insistently until Kurt finally took it.

It seemed like an eternity passed while he ripped it open and extracted the one page email that Blaine had printed at the bookshop. Blaine waited with bated breath as he scanned it.

"What's this mean?" Kurt asked again, but now he was shaking, and he looked up at Blaine with wide eyes.

"Read it to me, Kurt," Blaine prompted him in a calm voice.

"D-dear Mr. Hummel," he started. "We've received your application and we are very impressed with your portfolio. Y-your understanding of fashion and your passion for design are clearly demonstrated in the unique designs you included." Kurt paused to look at Blaine incredulously, reminding himself to breathe, and then continued reading. "V-vogue dot com would like to offer you a fashion intern position... oh my god, Blaine!"

"Your dreams aren't dead yet," Blaine managed to say in a choked voice.

"I-I don't... how?" Kurt looked back at the printed email hopefully and then back at Blaine in confusion.

"I told you. Even I could see you're ridiculously talented. We just had to get your designs out there and now the people at Vogue know that, too," Blaine smiled encouragingly at him. "If you keep reading that... They want you in New York in two weeks, so that should almost give you enough time to get ready..."

"I'm so sorry, Blaine," Kurt said, his eyes shiny with tears. "Look at what you did, and I was such an asshole to you..."

"So, you're really going?" Blaine bit his lip, hoping for a positive answer.

"Of course I'm going!" Kurt exclaimed, and now he was really crying, choking on his sobs. "Oh my god, Blaine..." he took a shaky breath and then reached for Blaine, to pull him into his arms. He hid his face on the crook of Blaine's neck, wetting the skin there with his tears. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you..."

"You deserve it," Blaine whispered softly into his hair. "You deserve everything."

"I'm so sorry, Blaine," Kurt sobbed, clinging to him desperately. "I'm so sorry."

"Ssh, it's okay," Blaine soothed, rubbing his back. "It's okay, sweetheart. I know."

"I've missed you so much," Kurt pressed even closer to him. "So much."

"I missed you, too," Blaine answered, and then his words sunk in.

Just because Kurt was holding him now, didn't mean the pain would end. Kurt was leaving, heading for a brilliant future in New York. He was finally going to have the life he'd dreamed of and be happy... and Blaine would be back here, still missing him.

Kurt was leaving, and Blaine was staying. Kurt's dream was just beginning, but Blaine's dream was ending.