Blaine knocked nervously on the door at the Hummel house. He turned a little around, jumping a little to keep warm from the cold wind fighting to break through his coat when the door was finally answered.

It was Puck who opened the door, a big grin crawling over his face when he saw Blaine. Kurt didn't know that he was coming so he carefully knocked on the door when he came to his room.

"What?" Kurt snapped from the other side, and Blaine nearly tripped over his own feet from the shock of hearing Kurt sounding so pissed.

He carefully opened the door, a little afraid of what would meet him from the other side - but he didn't even get properly over the doorstep before Kurt was on his knees at the foot of his bed, his arms locked around Blaine's neck.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked, arms still closed around his neck. Blaine hugged him back, but gently pulled away before he took a step back to have a better look at Kurt who was still kneeling on the bed in front of him.

"Are you in a bad mood? Cause I can leave if you want," Blaine offered, not wanting to make him feel like he should welcome him in if he really just wanted to be alone.

"No. No! Please don't go," Kurt begged anxious. He plunked down to sit flat on the bed, making room for Blaine to sit too.

"It's nothing. Just slept bad, and then I tried drawing to take my mind of it for a bit, but I kept screwing it up," Kurt sighed and Blaine noticed all the crumpled up paper around the room; some of them showing that he hadn't screwed up as much as he evidently thought. He was way too hard on himself, in Blaine's opinion.

"Let's just forget about it. What brings you here?" Kurt put the pencils and the still blank paper on the table next to the gramophone and placed his one leg in Blaine's lap. He leaned against the mountain of pillows behind him and stared at Blaine, his eyes huge and awaiting.

It was hard. He didn't know if he was ready, but he needed himself to be. He started fumbling with a fold in Kurt's pants before he held his hand still on his shin and looked back at Kurt.

"I wanted to ask you to come to the cemetery with me. I know it's a bit away, and it's cold. It's just… I miss her so much and - I really need you to come, or I'm afraid I won't go through with it," Blaine stammered, listening to his own stupidity. It wasn't fair of him to try dragging Kurt out in the cold like that, especially on a day when he wasn't feeling well. Especially because he had been coughing badly and his voice had been rasp since the night of the first snow.

"It's okay if you don't feel like it. I can just go myself and come back tomorrow or something," Blaine hurried to assure him when he fully took in how tired Kurt looked.

To his surprise Kurt got off the bed and opened the closet. He didn't say a word, but started pulling on a jersey and then a sweater over it. After that he put on his jacket and grabbed his mittens.

"Are you coming? We better get going before it gets dark." Kurt glared at him from the door, once again taking him by surprise. Blaine looked at him, perplexed by the turn of events.

The walk over the cemetery was long , and the only sound that could be heard was the creaking from the shoes on the snow. The second he had turned around the corner to the church Kurt had moved a little closer and folded his arms around his torso. Blaine wasn't really sure what to make of it, so he stayed silent as they walked down the paths looking at the stones covered in white.

Once they reached the right grave he was certain that the pile of snow they had passed outside the fence was building up in his stomach. He felt like he was going to throw up, but took a deep breath and walked in to crouch and brush the snow off the headstone to reveal the surface.

"Hey… mom. It's me; Blaine -" he stuttered awkwardly. He had no idea what he had expected - that it would be easier if Kurt was there? In reality it only made it all feel that much stranger and childish. As if Kurt was magic and in some way could make her appear and answer when he talked to her.

Blaine squeezed his lips to form a thin line before he stood up and walked past Kurt; headed for the gates.

The creaking sound of Kurt running after him in snow and gravel quickly reached his side. Kurt moved in to stand in front of him, cutting off his way to the exit.

"Where are you going? I thought you wanted to talk to your mom," Kurt said softly. His face was oozing with concern - clearly he hadn't been paying attention a minute earlier by the grave.

"Let's just drop it. This is lame - talking to a stone. That's pointless. Let's just go home, okay?" Blaine declared and walked around Kurt, but was stopped by his hand around his wrist.

"It's not pointless. It's not just talking to a stone - she's listening. Come on. If it feels weird I'll go first," Kurt cooed and slipped his hand into Blaine's to lead him back to his mom's grave.

Blaine wasn't really sure what he meant by 'going first' but he didn't question it, just followed and stayed shut.

Kurt took a step closer than he had been before, now so close that he nearly was where Blaine had been only two minutes earlier.

"Hi Mrs. Anderson. I'm Kurt. I promised Blaine to come see you. He misses you. I see it in him all the time. It's in his eyes - it makes me sad. Because I know he's hurting, and there's nothing I can do about it." Kurt paused but didn't remove his focus from the stone.

Blaine felt the pile of snow growing in his stomach. It had spread to his chest, and was now fighting to let ice water break through to his veins.

"I'm afraid he wouldn't have come if I hadn't gone with him. It's too hard for him. I wish I could have met you in life. You were such a warm person. I promise I'll take care of him, Mrs. Anderson. If it's the last thing I do."

Kurt took a step back and Blaine realized that he was staring with his mouth slightly open. Yet again he was marveled by Kurt. He just stood there talking his mom's headstone, to his mom; like she had actually been there. Expressed his worries for Blaine, promised to take care of him.

Blaine let his hand find back to Kurt's, the mitten feeling warm and protecting around his freezing hand. He clenched it, clinging himself to Kurt's support, before he drew a heavy breath and tried again.

"Hey mom. This is… Kurt. The guy I told you about. My - boyfriend." Kurt tightened his grip by the word, and Blaine felt the snow in his stomach confuse itself on whether it should melt or go even colder.

"I just wanted you to - meet him. See how beautiful he is. Experience how amazing he is. It's true though; I miss you so much. All the time. I can't seem to stop thinking about it. But when I'm with Kurt it's easier. He lost his mom too, so he knows how it feels. I just - wish that you could have met each other. Under better circumstances."

He broke off to try gathering his thoughts, but it seemed like they kept deserting him. He was on his own, with nothing but word-salad to pass along. Random phrases of no meaning.

"It's almost Christmas and… I can't even think about what it's gonna be like without you. I don't wanna do Christmas this year. Not without you." He felt the warmth from tear strains on his face, so he brushed them away with the back of his free hand.

Kurt released his hand and put his arm around his shoulder instead. Blaine let himself into Kurt's embrace and rested his chin on his shoulder. One of the good things about Kurt being slightly taller than him; he could always find a place for comfort. He closed his eyes and felt Kurt's arms' protecting grip around him.

He wasn't sobbing. He wasn't even sure he was crying; he just stood there in a hope that the world would disappear around them. At least for a bit.

"Shhh. It's okay, honey. That was so good. Do you wanna leave now?" Kurt crooned, cooing soothing sound in his ear while running his hand gently up and down his back.

Blaine sniffed and pulled himself together. He broke a little away from Kurt, but nothing more than they were still locked in embrace. He turned his head so he could face the grave; face his mom.

"I'm sorry, mom. I have to go. I just miss you. I think it's so unfair that you had to leave us. That you left me. How could you just leave me?" Blaine's voice had turned accusing. It wasn't until now he realized that he was angry.

"Let's go, Stardust. It's fine. We can come back another day." Kurt let his mitten-hand up and down his arm, patiently giving him the time he needed.

"Thank you for sharing your son with me, Mrs. Anderson," he said quietly towards the stone, and Blaine didn't even have to look at him to knowing that he was smiling.

"Her name's Susan," Blaine informed him, not really sure for what purpose - and it was on the stone in front of the, so he could read it for himself if he wished to.

"Merry Christmas, Susan."

And that was it. They could leave. Hand-in-hand through squeaking snow and gravel they walked towards the gates, and Blaine was happy that they would soon be out where he could breath freely.

When they were almost at the gates and Blaine started feeling the relief simmering under the surface Kurt turned down a new small path, a big tree at the end surrounded by a few bushes.

Blaine wasn't sure where Kurt was taking them, but he had a feeling, so he waited and followed in anticipation.

Kurt stopped in front of a single grave but the space of the hedges surrounding it indicated room for two more people to be there, the single stone at the far right.

Kurt walked in and sat down on his knees, the snow soaking his jeans. He didn't seem to even notice the water and dirt soiling his pants, so Blaine let himself just worry about Kurt getting sick and see what happened.

Kurt let his mitten push the snow down, so slowly that most of it melted instead of landing on the ground in front of him.

Elizabeth Hummel.

So Blaine's hunch had been right. Kurt's mom. Now that he was standing there he couldn't see how he could have missed that it would be hard for Kurt to come here too. His mom was locked away in casket with six feet dirt covering her too.

"Mom. I'm sorry I haven't been here for so long. I just… couldn't. I should have been here so many times. But instead I just ran away. I am so sorry." He let his mitten slip off and placed his bare hand on the cold surface and let his chin drop to his chest.

Blaine didn't know if he should say something. This felt so private. Like he had walked in on a private reunion of long-lost lovers, or walked into the room of a dying stranger. Somewhere he didn't have any right to be.

"I am so embarrassed that I couldn't even… I'm just too weak." He shrugged, like he was trying to show how ashamed he was of himself, to show that he wished he could do something but he was powerless.

"I brought someone. Blaine. I got a boyfriend now. You would have loved him. He's in every way just as fantastic as you. He's got the same artist heart. Remember when I was a kid and you told me that some day I would find my perfect prince? Well, I found him. He sings to me and plays on his guitar, and he takes care of me. Keep my feet on the ground." He chuckled hollowly to himself and let his fingers trace over the engraved letters.

Blaine was a little by surprised. Apparently Kurt hadn't been visiting his mom's grave while they had known each other. That was almost 6 months, which seemed a profoundly long time considering how much Kurt still suffered the loss.

"The other day… the first snow started falling. It was early in the morning, almost in the middle of the night - and Blaine came to pick me up. We went to the forest, like you would take me when I was little. He saved me. He saved me, mom."

Kurt looked up at Blaine with wet eyes and slowly found his hand. Kurt's hand was like ice and it was trembling, his skin so dry it felt like it was about to break, so Blaine clung it hard with both of his hands. Doing his best to get some warm back into his hand. He squatted down next to Kurt, but decided it was no good and put his knees in the ground like Kurt.

He kept Kurt's hand hidden between his own lying in his lap. He felt like he should say something, but there wasn't anything to say, he couldn't wrap his mind around it. Laughing teenagers could be heard from the other side of the mural surrounding the graveyard, seeming like they were in a completely different universe or behind a television screen.

"I love him, mom. And I know you would too. I just… you should know that - now that I have Blaine I'm gonna be okay," Kurt promised, and Blaine found that relief washed in over him.

If he could promise his mom that he was going to be okay, then he would. There was no need for Blaine to worry that he would try ending his life again - he had promised his mom he wouldn't. Somehow that seemed like the definitive promise Blaine had needed to hear to be sure. He was going to be okay.

"Thank you, Elizabeth. For sharing your son with me," Blaine echoed Kurt's words to his own mom.

Kurt looked to him and smiled through his silent tears. An earnest smile. A smile that assured Blaine that he had done good. That it had been okay of him to use her first name, that he had somewhat been approved from beyond the grave.

"Thank you for saving me," Kurt wailed through a thick voice and let his fingertips touch Blaine's cheek briefly.

"I'd do it all over again if I had to," Blaine nodded and leaned in to kiss him at the corner of his mouth. He wanted to kiss his lips, moist them and warm them up from the cold, but he didn't feel that it would be alright to do so - not there.

"Let's go home. I'll get Carole to make us hot chocolate." Kurt leaned in to kiss the stone in front of him and let his fingers take a last tour over the golden letters and the engraved golden leaf before he stood up.

"Kurt, I… was my mom there? In the cemetery?" Blaine asked, rolling eyes at his own idiocy.

"Stardust - your mom's dead. We were just at her grave, baby," Kurt said concerned, looking like he was worried about his sanity.

Well, this was awkward. Blaine had been so sure that…

"Wait - so you can't like… see and talk to dead people? Like ghosts and spirits and stuff?" As the words crossed his lips he wanted to cut his tongue out. What kind of question was that? He definitely wouldn't blame Kurt if he laughed at him straight to his face.

Kurt didn't laugh at him. The concerned lines on his forehead disappeared, and his eyes transformed to looking sad and compassionate.

He turned to let his full body face Blaine's. Kurt was sitting cross-legged on the floor staring up at Blaine sitting on the bed. He put his mug down before he rose on his knees and cupped Blaine's face in his hands.

"I'm sorry. That was ridiculous. I just assumed because… with the auras and you were so intense and I just…" Blaine started blabbering out, excusing his headless suggestion to something that now seemed more like a childish hope, even though he had wondered all the way back to Kurt's house. It had just seemed so real - like he had actually talked to them.

"I wish so bad that I could. I can't tell you how many hours I've spent out there hoping for her to show without any result. But I promise you that if I could - the first thing I would do would be to find your mom for you."

Kurt's eyes were a strong azure with green spots here and there. They were penetrating Blaine's and he knew that if Kurt wanted he would be able to hypnotize him into doing anything he wished to, because he would never be able to say no.

"Why haven't you been there in a long time? I mean it just… I just had this idea that you went there often. To like… spent some time with her. But you never told her about me. Not until today."

Blaine put his hand on Kurt's on his cheek. Happy to feel that it was back to the warm it always used to be. He knew that this would hit Kurt straight in the gut - that he confronted him with this, but he needed to know.

"I haven't been there for 3 years. I can't. Like I said; I'm too weak." He sunk down on the floor, letting his hands drop to his lap.

His face swam over with fatigue and shame. He was chewing on the inside of his lower lip, and his fingers kept turning in his lap. Blaine had never seen him like this. He slid down on the floor next to Kurt, sitting against the bed and grabbing Kurt's hands to stop his fingers from twirling.

"Tell me about it. What happened?" He asked as a gentle invitation.

Kurt didn't look up. He kept his eyes directed down, observing how his fingers tried breaking free of Blaine's grip to twist around again. Blaine was certain that he needed to talk about it, but didn't want to. That it was something groundbreaking hard that had made him stop coming there.

"I couldn't face her. After I… you know, slit my wrists. I know that I would disappoint her so much. This wasn't what she wanted for her son. I was there the day before I did it. Everything was okay. And then when I came home from the hospital I just… I couldn't go there with the bandages, and… then time went on and I couldn't go back. Because then I would have to go into it and - that was just…"

He was about to break. Blaine could feel it in the way his moving fingers got more frantic and desperate, and he could hear it in his voice; it was on the edge and he was sniffing without tears. Blaine had never seen him seeming so uncomfortable - except maybe when Blaine had announced that he was going back to Lima. It was the same kind of anxiety that was on his face.

"Stop. Okay. Just stop! You are sitting there telling yourself that… you're weak, and a bad person. But you're not. Don't let yourself believe that. I know it's hard, and I can only imagine how you must feel. But you are right - she wouldn't wish that for her son, of course she wouldn't -"

Now it was Blaine's turn. He used his index finger to force Kurt's chin up so he would look at him. His eyes were glistening, but there wasn't a trace of tears.

"You don't understand! I am already doomed for Hell, and then I go doing that - it doesn't exactly make it any better. Suicide is a sin! That guy was… he was punishing me for being gay, which was… I guess brought that on myself. And then when I twisted myself out of my punishment I just went home and committed another sin. I'm in no way a religious person - but… some things just don't leave you. This is a serious thing. To try and kill myself was like… saying she didn't do her job as my mom good enough. That she didn't raise me well enough. That -"

Blaine stopped his blabbering by holding his hand over his mouth. Kurt was nearly screaming, and his voice was so high pitched that it nearly cut in Blaine's ears.

"Shut the fuck up. Right now! You are so stupid to listen to right now. I've always thought you were so intelligent and smart and… and then you pull this bullshit! I don't wanna listen to it, because it's not true, and you can't keep telling yourself that. Now you'll keep your mouth shut while I tell you something, right?"

He wasn't even sorry. He knew it was harsh, but it needed to be done. There was no other way to get Kurt to stop talking and listen instead. He didn't want to hurt him, but he couldn't let him go on thinking that way about himself. Even if it would make Kurt hate him.

"First of all: you are not going to Hell! You're a good person. The best person I have ever met. You worry so much about anyone but yourself. No matter what that could never be ignored if there really is a God somewhere. And that is what a mom wishes for her son - especially your mom. For her son to be a good person."

Blaine paused hoping to catch some sort of reaction. He let his hand down and figured that Kurt would sit back and listen but he opened his mouth to object -

"I'm not finished! What happened to you was really bad. It was terrible. That guy wasn't some sort of heavenly punishment because you're gay. You never chose to be gay - you taught me that. You never had a choice. It's who you are. That guy was a sick, twisted, perverted bastard that practically raped you."

Blaine squeezed his eyes as hard as he could. He couldn't let the tears take over, because if he did that he wouldn't be able to get out two comprehending words. But they came anyway, and he fought his way to let his voice stay steady.

Kurt's lower lip was trembling and his eyes were brimming with tears, but he didn't let them fall. He fought to the end to keep them in. His fingers were turning crazier than ever in his lap, but Blaine couldn't focus on that - there were more important things for him to say.

"If anyone should be punished it's him. This horrible thing happened to you, and you had no one to talk to about it - I don't believe for a second that it's something you could ever talk to your dad about. You've struggled with this all alone. It's not healthy, but it doesn't make you a bad person. You had this, but you still kept up this beautiful vision, this incredible, marvelous view on the world and the universe. You're not weak. You're the strongest person I've ever met - even when your dad brought you to the hospital you could have just… finished the job when you got home. But you didn't. You're still here - you're sitting here three years later. With me. That makes you stronger than anyone."

Blaine stretched his arms around Kurt to drag him to his chest, to let him fall into his arms. Breaking the eye contact and thereby breaking his promise to himself on staying cold and hard throughout his speech.

"I can't… when I walk down the street, when a guy comes into the store I can't stop wondering if it's him. The things he did to you. His hands on you. It's - too much. I can't stop thinking about it. Your beautiful, innocent, pure body should not be… touched by anyone but me. Your body is mine. He had no right - and you need to understand that this had nothing to do with you. He's just sicko. Just stop telling yourself that everything is your fault because everything that's happened to you has just been horrific and tragic incidents that you couldn't have done anything to prevent -"

He squeezed him harder against his chest. Stroke his hands up and down his back, but his voice was still hard and determined. It wasn't over.

"As long as you will continue to be you, and to never try doing anything… like that again, you will stay the strongest person I know, and I will not leave you to be alone with this. And as for your mom - she is so proud of you. I know she is. How could she be anything else? The way you keep her spirit alive in anything you do, and the way you fight for what's right and what's good. That's something a mom would be proud of. Like I am proud of you."

He kissed his hair, and that was it. He had turned hoarse from blabbering out without pausing, afraid Kurt would interrupt him and his point would get lost and they would end up fighting.

"Don't let him touch me again. Please. Don't ever let him touch me again. You. Only you can touch me, promise me -" Kurt begged against his collarbone, his fingers fumbling frantically with the threads of his sweater.

"I won't. Never. You're all mine, and I don't wanna share you with anyone. I would never let anyone touch you. Never. I'm selfish that way. Your body is mine," he assured him and did his best to turn the tone light. He didn't want Kurt to cry. Especially not because of him. He wanted him to smile and laugh and be happy. A crying Kurt was a wrong Kurt.

Kurt pulled away to look at him. Sniffing and tears playing at the corners of his mouth. How was he still looking like a mythical creature even when he was crying? A situation that turned even models and movie stars into puddles of dreadful sights. Kurt twisted it to be another side to his grace and elegance.

"This!" Blaine said and put Kurt's hand to his heart, and his own to Kurt's.

"This is destiny; faith. This is a heavenly blessing. If there is a God that hate gays - then why would He ever put you and I together? Because this is out of this world. This is stronger than anything earthly. This is you and me. Together. Tethered."

Mission accomplished. Kurt's face lit up in a smile. Tender pink was blushing behind the pale skin of his cheeks and affection was rushing around in his eyes. The blue and green was like watching the sea. A wavy beach with tints of gold peeking in the surface.

Kurt crawled over to sit between Blaine's legs, letting his own wrap around Blaine's waist and his arms around his neck. Kurt rubbed his nose against Blaine's and grinned.

"I really don't deserve you -" Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes teasingly.

"No. You don't. You deserve much more. So I guess I'll just have to do my best," Blaine said under his breath, letting his fingertips caress Kurt's arms.

"Thank you for taking care of me. I really needed that. Someone to… be sharp with me. I don't think anyone's ever talked to me like that. It was nice. Even though you were pretty harsh. I like that -" Kurt said gratefully. It was a sincere thank you, and Blaine was happy. When he started raising his voice at him he had been afraid that he would end up throwing him out.

"But… I can't just sit back and watch you tear yourself down. You're too important for that. Too valuable," Blaine retorted and kissed his nose, his eyelashes fluttering over Kurt's skin, making him giggle.

Kurt rested his forehead against Blaine's, letting Blaine's nose bore into his cheek. Blaine let his lips meet Kurt's cheek, feeling warmth flowing back to his face.

"I like what you said - about me being yours. About my body being yours. It was nice to hear. I like that you wanna protect me, even from things you can't protect me from," Kurt whispered.

"Of course I wanna protect you. Property of Blaine Anderson, remember? I can't let other people get their hands on my property," he laughed, afraid that if he failed to let his own mood ease up just the tiniest bit Kurt would go back to being sad and scared.

"It's my arms -" he let his fingers run over Kurt's arms.

"My legs -" he let his palms run down his thighs over his calves.

"My back -" he let his hands down Kurt's back.

"My nose and eyes and cheeks -" he kissed his entire face.

"It's even my ass -" he took a firm grab around Kurt's ass, making him blush a little.

"It's my dick -" he let his hand slide down to make his palm rub against Kurt's crotch, making Kurt gasp out against his lips.

"And it's my lips -" Blaine kissed him, arms back around Kurt's waist, and he was happy to feel that Kurt let himself deepen into the kiss as well as he did - they were okay. He was happy again, that was all that could be important.

"I'm not going to share you with anyone. Because I'm selfish and egoistical and I want you all to myself forever and ever, and only my hands can be on your body. Of course that makes that I can do whatever I want to your body," Blaine chuckled and clung Kurt so strongly into him that he could reach all the way around him, poking at his ribs making Kurt twist with laughter in his arms. That beautiful laughter that sounded like happy kids on Christmas morning, or the way tinker bells would sound if they could actually chime.

"You're crazy," Kurt laughed and bit his ear, before he wrested himself loose of Blaine's tight grip and picked up his mug that once had held warm chocolate - which wasn't so hot anymore.

"Look - now it's cold. That's not fair," he giggled before he emptied it all out, leaving a slight brown mustache on his upper lip.

"Yeah. That's real nice. Sexy," Blaine chuckled and raised his one eyebrow, before he knew that he had to break the light atmosphere and brushed the cocoa away with his thumb.

"I have to go home. It's almost dark," he announced gloomy, watching the newly found happiness drift from Kurt's eyes.

"I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay. Here with me. Please don't go. I'm sure it will be okay for you to stay for the night," Kurt started to plead, lightly banging his fists against Blaine's chest in begging.

It was tempting. It was oh so tempting, and it would be the best thing in the world if he could go to bed and wake up with Kurt in his arms every day for the rest of his life - but reality wasn't such, and he was still just a 17 year old teenager who had to obey his father's rules. He had slept over at Kurt's place so often, and Kurt had stayed over at his so often that there was a chance that his father would start getting suspicious, and there was never any knowing whether the neighbors would start talking when they always saw Blaine enter the Hummel house and not leave until the next day as often as he did.

"I can't. I'm sorry, but I have to go home. I have work early tomorrow. You can come by the shop and I can follow you home. But… I can't stay tonight. You know I would if I could," Blaine apologized, hating himself for having to say that. He tried getting Kurt to move so he could stand up and collect his things, but he only tightened his grip harder.

"You have to let go, Kurt. As soon as I leave you can go be with your family and you won't even notice I'm gone. You can go to bed early and before you know it we'll be hanging out at the store listening to music and forget that we have to leave each other all the time," Blaine tried and he felt Kurt loosen his grip.

He stood up and reached for his jacket, while Kurt stayed sitting on the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest and folded his arms around his legs, pouting and refusing to look at Blaine.

"One day we won't have to say goodbye," Kurt mumbled with his forehead resting against his wrists.

Blaine rolled his eyes at how dramatic he was, and crouched in front of him with a sigh. How was he supposed to go home when he acted like this? It was playing dirty and as much as it was a problem that Kurt had this effect on him he knew that he wouldn't be without it for anything in the world.

"That is true. I promise that one day we can be together as much as we want. But right now I have to follow orders. Or we won't be able to see each other at all." Blaine sighed and kissed his forehead.

Kurt clasped his hands on both sides of Blaine's face and let their lips collide. The kiss was strong, and in some way it felt new - like Kurt was afraid he would forget what Blaine's lips, mouth and tongue felt like if he didn't memorize it properly in the second. His thumbs were caressing up and down his cheekbones and his lips moved with a steady pace, determined to not let go.

His tongue was soft and caressing against Blaine's, like he needed to remind him to not forget him once he was out of the house. Like he wanted to show him that he wanted to protect him as well. Blaine's pulse was rising and his breathing got heavier, he could feel the heat growing in his face and he let his fingers into Kurt's hair, needing to show him that he would never forget his touch, or taste or smell.

"Go. Just go now before I change my mind," Kurt heaved into his mouth, his lips still moving against Blaine's, but he indisputably meant it, and Blaine was afraid that if he didn't leave now Kurt would either cry or have a fit when he was about to leave.

Blaine sucked him in one more time. Pulled his head closer and let his tongue dance around Kurt's, before he pushed him away and headed for the door. As he was almost out he turned to find Kurt curled up against the bed, looking smaller and sadder than ever.

"I still love you. More than anything, you know -" Blaine declared with his one foot out the door, staring down at Kurt who didn't even raise his head to look at him.

"I love you too. Just… go now," Kurt muttered into his thighs he was hiding his face against. So Blaine closed the door and went home.

Blaine's sleep was troubled his worst nightmare ever.

Kurt was trapped in a dark closet with a big, threatening man raping him while he cried and screamed for help. People were just walking by, but no one did anything. They could hear him scream but not one as much as stopped to think it over.

Then he was on the floor, naked in a pool of blood streaming from his wrists. He was curled up in a ball, his arms holding around his knees, and tears of blood streaming from his eyes Blaine stood by and screamed and shook him but he didn't react. He just kept whimpering and crying like Blaine wasn't even there. Blaine bent down over him, covering his body with his own. He kissed his temples, and tried comforting but there was no sign that he even knew that Blaine was there.

The scene shifted again and they were both lying on their backs in the forest. It was spring and birds were flying and singing over their heads. They were looking at clouds and laughing - and Kurt was safely clinging to his arm while chatting lively about something Blaine didn't pay attention to because he was too busy staring at his moving lips and bright eyes echoing his laughter.