The ivory keys felt like a gift under Blaines fingers, and he smiled as the song came to an end. He looked up with a smile at his band mates, and found all of them smiling just as brightly as him.

"I think that was the best one yet," Theo said from the drums, and everyone else nodded in agreement. "Shall we try once again?"

They ran through the song a couple more times until they were completely satisfied. They rehearsed twice a week, and tried to fill the rest of their week with as many gigs as they possibly could. Mostly, they booked weddings and bar mitzvahs, but they didnt lose hope – one day, the right person would walk by while they were playing, and they would encounter the opportunity of their lives, their big break.

In the meantime, it didnt hurt to get the bills paid.

Blaine was trying to make his living with his music. He was usually the one who found new places to play, mostly bars looking for entertainment. As a backup, he taught kids piano and guitar. It wasn't exciting, but it helped pay the rent and put food in the fridge. He had been tempted more than once to give up and get a position teaching music at a school, maybe teach Glee Club, but every time he got close to applying he talked himself into giving it one more week. There was nothing wrong with being a teacher – he thought maybe he would actually enjoy it – but he was convinced that he still had time. He was still young. He didnt have to settle. Wasnt now the time to be adventurous?

Kurt usually smiled at him fondly and kissed his cheek when he asked him that question, saying, "My sweet little dreamer. Of course it is. Dont give up."

That never failed to keep him going for a little while longer.

Blaine stood from the piano and grabbed his guitar instead. Georgina used the pause to adjust the strings on her bass, while Jimmy took a sip of water.

"We should rehearse the song for the wedding reception. What did the bride say she wanted? Heaven, by Bryan Adams?" Georgina asked, as she pushed her red curls out of her face impatiently.

"Yeah," Jimmy nodded. "Talk about cheesy. Some people suck at choosing songs for their weddings."

"Hey, maybe it means something to them. Maybe its their song," Blaine shrugged. "I wish I had a cheesy song... and someone to share it with."

"Oh, boo, Blaine is getting pathetic again," Georgina teased him, smiling to show she didnt mean anything by it. "We need to get him a man, stat."

"Please, dont. The last guy you got me was horrible. He was huge like a bear. I was scared he was going to smother me," Blaine shuddered. "Plus, Im pretty sure he had a weird fixation with belts. I dont even want to know what he was thinking about doing to me..."

"You should have invited him in and find out," Theo said, chuckling. If Blaine hadnt been so polite, he would have shown him his middle finger.

"Can we please stop talking about my love life? Or lack thereof? Its definitely the last thing I need right now," Blaine sighed tiredly. How could he think about finding new love when Kurt had just lost his? It seemed wrong somehow.

Georginas smile turned soft. "Hows Kurt doing?"

“Not great. He's mostly sleeps and watches awful TV shows.” Blaine replied. Kurt was also barely eating...or showering, which was a very strange development, for Kurt. Grief had certainly changed him. "But hell get there..."

"Man, I would have never imagined something like this could happen. Im so sad for him. I was really looking forward to playing at their wedding," Theo said sadly. "Their song was really good, too."

Blaine felt a little pang of sorrow. He remembered long afternoons sitting with Kurt and Mark as they tried to pick the perfect song for their first dance as husbands. Kurt wanted to choose something from Broadway, but Mark was into old classic songs. They had ended up choosing Youre Nobody Until Somebody Loves You, which Blaine had thought was perfect and so romantic that he almost teared up just thinking about performing it.

There hadn't been any music playing in Blaine's apartment lately, since Kurt had installed himself there, pretty much permanently, unable to face his empty apartment. Blaine didn't know how to ask if he wanted him to go there with him, to put away Mark's things, afraid of how Kurt might react.

For the rest of rehearsal, Blaine was a little distracted. It was normal, lately. His head was always with his best friend, just like his heart.

They called it a day soon after, and Blaine walked the two blocks that separated Jimmys apartment, where they usually rehearsed, from the subway station, as his guitar case bumped gently against his thigh. It was a little bit comforting. The train was pulling up into the station right as he arrived, so he hurried up and made it a second before the doors shut behind him. He found a pole to grab onto and spent the ride lost in his thoughts and absently humming one of the songs they had played that there under his breath.

He walked towards his building wondering if maybe he could convince Kurt to have some dinner tonight. Maybe they could order Thai. He hoped he could tempt Kurt with some Pad Thai...

But when he walked into his apartment, he immediately forgot about take-out, wedding songs and upcoming gigs in small, dark bars. He stopped in his tracks, wide eyes staring in shock into his tiny kitchen, where Kurt was moving from one counter to the other, looking busy and a lot more active than he had been in the past week or so.

The counters were covered with pies, brownies, cupcakes, and even a roasted chicken. Kurt was opening the oven and sliding a batch of cookies into it. His hair and face were covered in flour, and he was wearing the ridiculous frilly pink apron that Cooper had given Blaine for Christmas one year.

Kurt had once said it was the tackiest thing he had ever seen.

“Kurt?” He called, confused. “Is everything okay?”

Kurt turned to him, and as soon as he smiled, Blaine knew something was wrong. His smile didn't look natural. It looked as if it was painted on his face, completely forced, lifeless, dull. “Oh hey! I didn't hear you come in!” He exclaimed, way too chipper.

“What are you doing?” Blaine asked warily.

“What does it look like I'm doing, silly?” Kurt rolled his eyes at him. “Cooking. I hope you're hungry.”

“I'm starving, actually, but…” Blaine hesitated. He wasn't sure what to do with Kurt's abrupt change. “Uhm. Are you sure everything's okay?”

“Of course, of course… everything's great. I was just so bored, and I remembered a bunch of recipes that Mark taught me, so…” He turned back to the counter and started whisking something inside a huge plastic bowl. His smile was still fixed on his face, as if it was painted. It looked a little painful. “I couldn't decide what to cook, though, so I made a bit of everything!”

“Okay…” Blaine replied, unsure. Was he supposed to stop him or just let him be? It was probably the first time Kurt said his fiancé's name without cringing in pain, but the way he was behaving was just as concerning. Had he taken any kind of pills? Was he drunk?

“So how was rehearsal? What are you guys working on?” Kurt asked, as he stopped whisking to check the oven.

“It was good. We're rehearsing for a wedding we have next week. And we're playing at the usual bar on Friday, so…” Blaine answered halfheartedly. “Do you need any help?”

“What? Oh, no, no. I'm fine. I got this,” Kurt smiled again. “But go wash your hands! I have some au gratin potatoes in the oven, and as soon as those are done, we can have dinner.”

Blaine chuckled awkwardly. “How are we going to eat all of this, Kurt?”

Kurt didn't reply. He was busy whisking again with one hand, while he used the other to put some dressing into a salad that was sitting on the counter and Blaine hadn't noticed before.

Blaine backed away quietly, unsure of how to proceed. “I'll just, uh, set the table while you finish with that, then…”

“Sure, go ahead and do that,” Kurt murmured distractedly. He abandoned the huge bowl to open the oven, and set the potatoes onto the stove top, because the counter was already crowded to capacity. “God, I love the smell of these… they're so fattening, but so delicious. I only let Mark spoil me with them once a month or so…”

Blaine set the table listening to Kurt prattle on, wondering if something had happened while he was gone. There had to be some explanation for Kurts abrupt change in behavior. Maybe he should talk to Burt?

Kurt placed the chicken, the potatoes and salad on the table, and filled their plates generously, before he took his seat across from Blaine. He picked up his fork and... frowned down at his plate.

“What's wrong?” Blaine asked cautiously.

“Oh…” Kurt exhaled quietly. “Nothing, I… I think I've just lost my appetite after all that cooking…”

Blaine reached across the table for his hand, wrapping his fingers around Kurt's gently. “Hey. Why don't you talk to me? Did something happen today?”

“No, no, of course not, I just… I just wanted to cook. I wanted to do something…” Kurt blinked slowly a couple of times, before he pushed away from the table and stood up. “I have a headache. I think I'm going to lie down for a while…”

Blaine wasn't sure if he should let him go, but he nodded anyway, completely at a loss. “Okay. I'll save some for you, in case you get hungry later…”

“Yeah, thanks…” Kurt said absently, rubbing his temple. Then he turned and walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Blaine picked at his own food for a while, too worried to enjoy it. He knew Mark's death was still too recent, but he had the awful feeling that things were getting out of hand…

*

Blaine was sitting at the kitchen table the following morning, still half-asleep, when Kurt got up. Blaine was suddenly distracted from thoughts of the piano lesson he had scheduled in less than an hour, and his hazel eyes lifted from the coffee swirling in his cup, widening slightly in surprise when he found his best friend had not only gotten dressed properly, but he was also carrying his satchel and his sketch book.

“Going somewhere?” Blaine asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

Kurt strolled into the kitchen, going straight for the cupboard and grabbing a cup for himself. He poured some coffee into it and leaned against the counter. “Good morning. Yup, I'm going to work.”

Blaine was a bit confused. Kurt had barely shown motivation to get out of bed in the past few days. Going to work hadn't exactly been in his list of priorities. “Are you sure? You were meant to take two weeks off anyway. I'm sure they can manage that time without you if you want to stay home…”

“But I don't want to,” Kurt replied, stealing his fork and a bite of scrambled eggs. “Seriously, Blaine, staying holed up here isn't doing me any good. My head just goes to the worst possible places. I need a distraction and nothing works better to distract me than work.”

“I just don't want you to do something you're not ready for. You're allowed to take time off and grieve, Kurt,” Blaine said, softly, squeezing his hand quickly before stealing his fork back.

“I'm fine,” Kurt assured him. He drank the rest of his coffee and then grabbed his things from where he had left them on the chair. He dropped a quick kiss on Blaine's unstyled, wild curls. “I'll see you later.”

“Okay. Have a nice day at work,” Blaine smiled at him, not without a little anxiety.

Kurt waved over his shoulder, gone within seconds, leaving a trace of concern and coconut-scented shampoo behind.

*

It was halfway through college when Kurt realized he wouldn't make it in the theatre world. After auditioning for every single play he could find, he realized he didn't fit into the roles he had always dreamed of playing, and the roles he was offered… well, he wasn't exactly eager to play the gay best friend until the end of his days. So he had switched directions, and focused on fashion. It had been his first love – he should've stuck with it all along.

He got a few internships here, and there, but it wasn't until graduation that he realized exactly what he wanted to do. He had piles and piles of designs and boxes full of clothes he had created himself and didn't know what to do with. He set up a page online where he sold his exclusive designs, and when his customers started growing in number rapidly, he decided to just go for it and open a small boutique. He didn't want to produce the same outfit in mass – he liked the idea of creating unique pieces that no one else would have. So he found a little store in Greenwich Village and decided to try his luck. That's how Courage had been born – a name that still made Blaine roll his eyes and blush simultaneously.

Blaine had been the first person to tell him to have courage, and the one to always make sure Kurt didn't forget about it.

So many years later, it still made Kurt breathless. Particularly now. Courage. He had never needed so much courage before in his life.

He inhaled deeply before pushing the boutique's door opened. It was a small place, but tastefully decorated, with a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling and light blue walls that didn't pull focus from the incredible pieces in exhibition. It was all about the clothes, and Kurt had taken his time to make sure it would stay like that – he wanted to wow his customers from the very moment they stepped into the store…

“Kurt!” A very surprised voice said from the counter. He removed his sunglasses and found Anna looking at him, almost speechless. “I didn't think you would be coming back so soon…”

Anna was a pretty girl with very peculiar taste. She would show up with lovely blonde hair on a Monday, only to dye it pink two days later. The clothes she wore were nothing like the ones Kurt designed, slightly extravagant and whimsical, but Kurt liked her. She was kind and patient, funny and trustworthy. Sometimes Kurt spent most of his time in his little work room in the back, bent over the sewing machine, and he wanted to be certain that whoever was at front taking care of the business deserved his trust. And Anna deserved it.

Today, her hair was a very bright shade of blue, and it clashed spectacularly with her long green dress and brown cowboy boots. She left her spot behind the counter, where she had been flipping through a magazine previous to his arrival, and quickly crossed the store to wrap her arms around him, even though she was several inches shorter and her head had to rest on his chest instead of on his shoulder.

“I didn't want to miss work.” Kurt said simply, as if that explained anything.

Anna smiled in quiet understanding. “Of course. It's nice to see you.”

He could see, deep in her black eyes that she wanted to say something, but he was grateful for her silence. “How was it, the past few days?”

“Okay, I guess. That red dress you finished a couple of weeks ago was a huge success. Two women almost ripped each other's heads off for it,” Anna said excitedly. “It was kinda awesome.”

“I bet it was,” Kurt rolled his eyes fondly at her just as a new customer walked in. “I'm going to go to the back and get started on some new designs.”

“Alright!” She agreed happily, already moving towards the customer.

Kurt entered his work room. There was something comforting about this place that sent a rush of warmth down his spine. Here, all he had to worry about was constructing beautiful clothing, stitching the hem on a pair of pants, or ensuring his fabric supply remained eclectic. All the things that haunted him elsewhere, the loneliness, the awful reality that he was never going to see Mark again, disappeared here.  Here, he wasn't Kurt Hummel, widower-before-he-even-got-married. Here he was simply Kurt Hummel, fashion designer.

It felt kind of good.

He settled at his desk, immediately spreading his designs on top of it, regarding them with a critical eye and trying to decide what he wanted to work on first. He chose a lovely beige coat – fall was settling in heavily around them already, leaves slowly turning into beautiful golden tones, and he couldn't think of anything nicer than finally getting to wrap himself in as many layers as he wanted without sweating like a pig.

Kurt worked almost automatically. Anna only interrupted him twice – once because of a client, and the other time to bring him a salad she had picked up for him for lunch. Kurt picked at it distractedly while he sewed, careful not to spill any dressing on the fabric.

At closing time, Anna went into the work room and kissed his cheek. “Don't stay too late. When are you heading out?”

“Ten minutes,” Kurt murmured without taking his eyes off the half-finished coat. “I'm trying to figure out what pattern I want to use on it… I feel like it needs a touch of something…”

“I think it's classic. Timeless,” Anna said, looking at it thoughtfully. “But... what do I know? You're the genius. I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Have a nice night, honey,” Kurt answered, still focused on the coat.

As promised, ten minutes later he was getting ready to leave, putting his tools away and gathering scraps of fabric, sorting the larger ones for accent trim and tossing the smaller ones. He opened a drawer to tuck them away, and stopped when the first thing he came upon was the sketch for Mark's suit for the wedding.

Kurt had completely forgotten he had left it there – the last few days before the wedding had been a bit of a blur. He dropped back on his chair, feeling his knees weakening slightly, and stared at it, feeling as if he had just been punched in the stomach.

Mark had looked so damn handsome in that suit…

Tears filled his eyes, and he blinked to keep them back but it was useless. The life he had always wanted had been right in front of him, close enough to touch with his fingertips, lasting only a handful of minutes before it was ripped away from him in the cruelest way.  

For a while, Kurt sat there and cried for everything he had lost, right in the palm of his hand. A part of him – the part that had learned to fight and be as strong as he could be no matter what – was so damn sick of crying, yearning for the time to heal and get back on his feet. But another - a part that was now bigger and sadder – just couldnt imagine a way out of his grief, couldnt see a day in the horizon when he might feel better. It would mean he had to somehow accept and be at peace with the idea that Mark was gone, and he would never be okay with that. A world without the man he loved sounded like the most barren, desolated, worthless place he could picture, and Kurt didnt want to live in it...

Kurts phone vibrating insistently on his desk brought him back to his senses. He thought about ignoring it, but a quick glance told him it was Blaine, so he picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed. The background noise had to mean he was on the subway. "Are you home yet? Im on my way. Do you want me to pick up some dinner?"

Kurt cleared his throat quietly. "Sure, yeah. Whatever youre in the mood for..."

There was a small pause on the other end, and when Blaine spoke again, his voice was tinged with the concern Kurt had gotten so used to listening in him. "Hey, whats wrong? Are you okay? Did you get to my apartment yet?"

Kurt shook his head even though Blaine couldnt see him. "No, Im still at the boutique, and I... Im not okay. Not really..."

"Im on the subway, but Ill be there in... ten minutes. Can you wait for me? Please wait for me there, Kurt."

Kurt closed his eyes. He didnt want to stay, but he felt as if he had nowhere to go. "Okay," he agreed softly.

*

The store was completely silent, except for the sounds of New York City that managed to sneak into it, so Kurt heard the knock on the glass door immediately. He hurried to open it, letting Blaine inside, who watched him unlock it with dark, searching eyes, and enveloped him in his arms as soon as Kurt pulled it open.

“Hi,” Kurt murmured, sighing tiredly.

“Hi,” Blaine replied, kissing the top of his head as soon as Kurt hid his face on the crook of his neck. “I take it you didn't have a nice first day back?”

“It actually was pretty good,” Kurt said, sniffling miserably. He lifted his head and looked at Blaine, his blue eyes fixed on Blaine's hazel ones. “I found the sketch I did for Mark's suit for the wedding.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Blaine said sadly. “It makes you sad now, but it'll be such a beautiful memory someday. He looked so handsome…”

“He died in it,” Kurt retorted rather brusquely. Blaine startled a little, and Kurt sighed again. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like… I'm just so fucking tired of this.”

“I know. It's alright,” Blaine dropped another kiss to his temple and then pulled away a little bit. “What to do you say if we go home, eat dinner and talk a little? We can pick up some food on our way, or I can make something…”

Kurt nodded, and began to collect his things. He hesitated for a moment, thinking, before he put the sketch in his bag. He needed to decide what to do with it. He didn't want to throw it away, and he didn't want it at the boutique, so he needed to find somewhere safe to keep it.

Blaine held his hand all the way to the subway station, and once they were on the train, they stood next to a vacant pole, and Blaine wrapped his free arm around Kurt's waist, tugging him close, grabbing tightly onto it. They didn't say another word, and Blaine knew that the closeness was enough comfort for now.

Kurt focused on the lovely scent of Blaine's cologne, so strong and perfect where he had hidden his face against his neck again, and the tightness of his arm around him, silently letting him know that he wouldn't let him fall.

Kurt really loved Blaine.

When they got to Blaine's apartment, they immediately changed into more comfortable clothes, and walked into the kitchen together, where they silently but companionably made spaghetti and sauce together, dancing around each other in the tiny kitchen with a flawless rhythm born from years of familiarity. 

They settled on the couch with their bowls of pasta and a glass of wine, the perfect combination after such a long day. Blaine took a good bite, starving, before he finally looked up at Kurt, who was twirling the spaghetti onto his fork absently.

“Do you want to talk or should I pop in a movie instead?” Blaine offered, smiling understandably at him.

Kurt studied him for a few seconds, torn between pouring his soul to Blaine and digging into his wounds or ignoring them again. The second option never helped. “I know I've been… acting weird lately. I guess I just wanted to feel like everything was back to normal, but the truth is that I feel like there's a huge hole inside of me that I won't ever be able to fill, because Mark is not with me anymore. I needed to pretend like life didn't change, like it's still the same even though my whole world shifted on its axis and I still can't find myself. I don't want to be miserable, but I don't know what to do. I don't know how to stop missing him, how to stop waking up in the middle of the night looking for him, only to realize he's gone. And every time that happens… it's just like a punch in the gut all over again, and I have to start from scratch…”

Blaine listened patiently, like he always did, while Kurt talked almost without stopping for breath, clearly needing to get it out while he could. When it looked as if Kurt didn't know what else to say, looking lost and confused, Blaine put his bowl down and reached for his hand, giving his pale fingers a gentle squeeze. “Kurt… there's no rush. Moving on isn't a race. Yes, it hurts, and it's going to hurt for a while, but it's a process. You don't have to skip through your grief. I don't think you can actually do that. Don't pretend to be okay if you aren't. You're allowed to have bad days, and you're allowed to miss him. Don't hide that. Don't act happy if you're not.”

Kurt shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I thought that if I acted like things were back to normal, they magically would be.”

“I think it's fantastic that you went back to work and that you had a nice day at the boutique. Maybe it'll be the perfect distraction. You can't stay home thinking about Mark nonstop, just like you can't immediately force yourself to go on with your life if you're not ready. But you can find your own middle grown,” Blaine smiled tentatively at him. “Do whatever you're ready for. No one's pushing you to get somewhere you're still not comfortable at.”

Kurt smiled too, but less brightly than him, and tilted his head to regard Blaine with a very fond look. “I'm so glad I have you, Blaine. I don't know what I would do without you…”

Blaine rolled his eyes playfully. “You would still be as fabulous as you are now. But you would have fewer drunken duets during the holidays.”

Kurt laughed – it wasn't the happiest sound in the world, and it ended before Blaine could actually move past his shock and enjoy how it filled the living room, but it was still the most beautiful thing he had heard in weeks.

“You're probably right,” Kurt agreed, causing Blaine to chuckle as well, and then he finally took a bite of spaghetti.

 *