As the weeks became months and the leaves began to fall from the trees of the gardens, the insatiable tension between Kurt and Blaine grew thicker and more tangible, descending like a haze over the pair and seeping through to the rest of the family. Mealtimes became more stilted as Kurt ran his foot along the inside of Blaine's leg, making him choke on his food and stifle a moan into his handkerchief; trips onto the lake were longer and more exclusive, the two of them rowing around to where the thicket of trees were densest and the only sound was birdsong that mixed in the air with their own gasps and whimpers. When Renée ventured into the village with the children, they would pretend that the house was theirs, that they were free to press one another up against walls and catch their mouths in searing kisses that left them breathless and desperate for more. Sometimes they would undress quickly, tearing off ties and jackets and leaving them haphazardly around the room, and sometimes they would take their time, savouring and revelling in each new exposed stretch of skin, their fingers lingering on waists and necks, tethering them together.

Sometimes, they would simply lay still, their fingers entwined, and imagine that what they were doing behind closed doors wasn't sordid, or unacceptable to others, but perfect and beautiful.

To them it was.

One day, as they sat by the edge of the lake, their feet tangled together under the surface of the water, Blaine dared to ask what had been playing at the forefront of his mind.

"Kurt."

"Yes?"

There was a pause as Blaine steeled himself, and Kurt turned to look at him with a curious expression dancing among the blue of his irises.

"If I asked you to leave this - this life, this family, this world - would you come with me? If I told you that you could escape it all and start afresh, with me, would you?"

Kurt sat in silence and Blaine began to panic, wondering if this had all been a game in which he was just a piece, a bit part, a distraction. He rose to his feet quickly, pulling his hand away from where it rested of top of Kurt's. Cheeks burning with humiliation and tears forming in the corner of his eyes, he made to leave, but Kurt's hand softly grabbing his ankle made him pause and turn back to where Kurt gazed up at him with the tiniest of smiles quirking his lips, and an adoring gaze in his eyes.

"Yes. Yes I would."

Relief swelled inside Blaine, so he crouched down before lightly sweeping his fingers across Kurt's hairline and moving his face until it rested cheek to cheek with Kurt's.

"Thank you," he murmured quietly, his voice cracking from where he'd been holding his breath.

They both failed to notice the young girl standing a few feet behind them, who turned and ran up the lawn to where her family sat, contented and happily unaware of what they were doing.

After the conversation by the lake, Kurt and Blaine began to feel a little braver in their actions. Touches as they passed in public lingered for longer, looks were less guarded, and blushes were barely concealed as they went about their affair with an assurance that they were safe. But Lisette watched them with a new interest; peering through clumps of bushes when they rowed onto the water, watching their hands make to brush each other as they passed in the halls. It was one evening over dinner that she decided to voice her concerns.

"Monsieur Anderson?"

"Blaine, Lisette, how many times?"

"My apologies, Blaine."

Blaine winced a little at the coldness in the girl's tone, but carried on regardless.

"How can I help you?"

The whole table had stopped eating to watch Lisette where she sat with a neutral expression, staring at Blaine as though willing him to break.

"You spend a lot of time with Kurt. What do you two possibly have to talk about after all this time?"

Kurt paled and glanced over at Renée, where she sat with a frown that slowly began to fade into something more thunderous. Blaine swallowed and wiped his palms on his trousers before laughing nervously and adjusting his position in his seat.

"Why, whatever do you mean? Your stepfather and I have rather a lot in common, so there's plenty to talk about. Isn't that right, Kurt?"

He glanced over to Kurt, panic and distress barely disguised behind his hazel eyes, silently pleading for some support. Kurt cleared his throat loudly before straightening up and turning to Lisette.

"Yes, we do have many things in common. You should not be so rude to our guest, Lisette."

Lisette looked between the two of them with an expression of fury on her face.

"But you aren't just talking together, you never were just talking-"

"Lisette, take Grégoire upstairs. Now."

Renée's voice cut through the room like a knife. For a moment, all that could be heard were Lisette's indignant splutters as she pulled her brother from the room and stormed upstairs. Blaine looked down towards his plate, adjusting his cutlery on the tablecloth and avoiding eye contact with Renée or Kurt, who sat staring at Lisette's empty chair. Then there was silence, thick enough to choke, before Renée spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Tell me she was lying."

Kurt looked to his wife, who glared at him with her jaw clenched shut.

"Renée-"

"How dare you. How dare you bring such shame and - and dishonour! - on this house, on my family. You were never well liked among my acquaintances, but I had them accept you - I married you - and this is what you are?"

Blaine looked up from his dinner and turned his attention to Kurt, who had tears glistening in his eyes at Renée's words. He made the mistake of looking to Blaine for a second, and Renée followed his gaze to where her guest sat.

"And you. You were my guest in this house, and I believed I could trust you - and this is how you repay me? You take my husband from me, you sin against me?"

Her voice had reached a pitch loud enough for the children to hear, so Renée sat back in her chair, her chest heaving as she breathed deeply to try and calm herself. Kurt looked over to where Blaine sat motionless, his arms twisted against his body as he hugged himself. He looked so small, smaller than Kurt had ever seen him, as though Renée's words had pulled up old memories which drowned him.

With an audible inhale, Renée turned back to Kurt.

"I will give you one last chance. I will send him away, pretend that you never did this, and we can continue to appear happy. I will never offer you this again, do you understand me?"

Kurt hesitated for a second, but another stolen look towards Blaine's defeated form told him that he already knew his response.

"I do not want to live here any longer. I love Blaine."

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Blaine's shoulders rise and his head shoot towards Kurt with a beam spreading slowly across his face as he spoke quietly.

"And I love you."

Despite the situation, Kurt began to smile at the look of pure joy that graced Blaine's handsome features, and he reached out to take the dark haired man's hand, only to be stopped by Renée's slapping down on top of his.

"Then you are never welcome in this house again. Leave. Get out!"

Kurt sprang to his feet and strode past her, pulling Blaine out of his chair behind him. They both sprinted to Kurt's room, Renée's screams still echoing through the house, and threw anything of his that they could find into a small bag. They ran down to Blaine's room and repeated the same, not talking to each other, just breathing heavily, before Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and interlinked their fingers. With one last smile towards their joined hands, they fled down the stairs and out of the house, only stopping when they had reached the gate at the front of the estate.

They both stood for a second, gazing at the house that still seemed so undisturbed, despite the night's actions, before Blaine turned to Kurt and tugged him closer, winding a hand around his waist and touching their noses together.

"Do you really love me?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."