Blaine's powerful voice shook Kurt from his thoughtful trance. He'd been imagining how that night would go, envisioning every little detail. Tonight was when Kurt planned to ask Blaine to their Senior prom. Of course, he shouldn't be nervous, seeing as though Blaine went with him last year, and Kurt was sure he would attend it again with him this year, but he wanted to make it special. He didn't want the proposal to take place in a quaint coffee shop, as it had been previously done.

"Uh, yeah. I hear you, sweetheart," Kurt stuttered.

"Really? What did I just say?"

"Well, I believe it was something along the lines of 'KURT!'"

"Humph, very funny!" Blaine chuckled as he wrapped his tender arms around his boyfriend. He softly kissed the top of Kurt's head and slyly intertwined their hands. Kurt lowered his eyes and rubbed Blaine's rough palm with his always-smooth thumb. He drew in the faint scent of Blaine's cologne, then sighed deeply.

"What are you thinking about?" Blaine asked with worried eyes.

"Just about how much I love you."

Kurt knew that response was overrated, but he was praying it was good enough to conceal what his mind was truly pondering.

"And I love you!" Blaine assured whilst sitting up from the bed.

It was 10:00 AM on a Saturday morning, and Kurt had stayed the night at Blaine's house; his parents were away for the weekend on account of some business trip. They had woken up at 8:00, but chose to stay in bed and simply talk for a bit…even though Blaine had done most of the talking. Now, Blaine was getting restless and decided to head to the kitchen and make some breakfast for the two of them. Just as he stood up, Kurt grabbed him by the band of his gray boxers and quickly pulled him back.

"Kuuuuuuuurt!" Blaine whined as he tumbled onto the delicate down comforter.

"Oh, shut-up and kiss me," Kurt demanded, cupping Blaine's face in his hands.

"B-but my breath, it's rancid!" he replied, attempting to squirm free.

"Blaine Anderson, I have been sitting here, listening to you run your beautiful mouth for the past two hours. I think if your breath was honestly that horrendous, I would be dead by now," Kurt chuckled, "besides, I'm sure mine doesn't exactly smell like roses, either!" Blaine tried to stifle his laughter, but failed and finally lowered his face to Kurt's, gently kissing him.

"My, how you've changed! Not worrying about your morning breath. It seems I've created a monster!" Blaine said as he playfully bit Kurt's bottom lip, reluctantly pulling himself to his feet.

"What would you like for breakfast, sir?" Blaine asked.

"Surprise me!"

"Bold choice! You should prepare yourself," And with that, Kurt waved him out of the door with a wink.
_______________________________________________________________________________

As the steam from his shower enveloped him, Kurt could smell the French toast that was cooking downstairs. For a moment, he pictured Blaine in a silly apron with powdered sugar covering his flawless face. No French toast is complete without powdered sugar, he thought, laughing at himself.

Kurt finished showering and soon heard Blaine call to him-and in the midst of his daily moisturizing routine! …Moisturizing his face, that is.

"My darling, your breakfast awaits!"

"Hold on, I'm almost done!" Kurt shouted, shaking his head at Blaine's blatant sarcasm.

"It's getting cold. Don't make me come up there and get you!"

Kurt remained silent in the hopes that Blaine actually would come and get him.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps heavily trotting up the stairs; he turned himself towards the door.

"If you do not get your skinny little ass down here right now!" Blaine threatened as he pushed Kurt into a corner. Kurt fought back the smile that was working its way to his lips.

"Why, thank you! But I much prefer 'my darling' as the term of endearment here."

And before he knew it, Blaine was trying to throw him over his shoulder, but this proved to be a bit difficult because Kurt was quiet a few inches taller than Blaine.

"I thought you said my ass was skinny?" Kurt joked.

"Ugh, maybe you shouldn't eat that French toast I made you…" Blaine huffed, ultimately giving up, but not before receiving a few light-hearted smacks to the chest.

"Honestly, though. Let's go!" he urged.

Blaine grasped his boyfriend's hand and drug him down into the kitchen, where the intoxicating smell of warm maple syrup lingered at their noses. They took a seat at the dinner table, and Kurt marveled at the plate before him. There was French toast, of course, but with strawberries and…powdered sugar on top! He smirked. Next to that, was a cup of coffee and a glass of milk.

"Wow, you've really outdone yourself," Kurt whispered.

"Haha, I'm glad you like it!"

"Well, now…I haven't tasted it yet."

He lifted his fork and stabbed a fluffy piece of toast, as well as a strawberry, and brought it to his mouth; Blaine followed his every move.

"Mmmm, this…this is d-delicious," Kurt moaned, trying not to let any crumbs escape as he spoke. Blaine beamed and kissed him on the cheek, as giddy as can be. They continued to enjoy their meal when Kurt stopped Blaine mid-chew;

"You've got a little something riiiiiight…there," he said, pointing to a spot on Blaine's face.

Blaine gulped down his bite;

"Where?"

He crossed his eyes, in an attempt to see what Kurt did.

"There!" Kurt said as he took some powdered sugar and flung it at Blaine; he looked stunned and then let out a small snort.

"If only you had on an apron. Then, things would be perfect." Kurt thought aloud.

"What?" Blaine questioned.

"Nothing, don't worry about it" Kurt replied, wiping the sugar off Blaine's flushed cheeks. "It's just a little fantasy of mine," he added under his breath, so Blaine couldn't hear. He kissed away the last of the substance from the boy's lips.

"Sweet, aren't I?" Blaine asked with a raised brow.

"Very much so," Kurt replied, smoothing Blaine's wrinkled forehead, "and horribly clich�!"

"But you love it!"

"Yes, yes I do. I will love it forever and always."

"Ha! Now who's clich�?" Blaine mocked.

Kurt shoved him away with a "pfffft" and went to put their dishes into the sink. Blaine walked up behind him, grabbed his waist, and plopped his forehead in between Kurt's shoulder blades.

"You don't have to wash those," he said.

"I want to. You cooked, I'll clean."

Blaine stepped next to him and grabbed the sink's sprayer.

"I said, you don't have to wash them."

Kurt was still focusing on wiping his dish when he replied;

"Honey, it's no big deal. I mean, it's just t-," he was cut off mid-sentence by the abrupt splash of water that struck his eyes.

"Payback's a bitch," Blaine giggled as he grabbed a rag to dry Kurt's face.

"Amm you're ummm jerrr!" he murmured.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Blaine asked, lifting the rag so he could hear.

"I said that you're a jerk! You know, I don't approve of this abusive relationship!"

"Abusive….really? Well, we'll see if you get any more breakfasts from me!" he stated, twisting the cloth and then slapping Kurt's bum with it as he turned away.

"You see what I mean?" Kurt said in the midst of laughter.

Blaine went to put the dishes away when he heard the slightest quiver taint Kurt's voice; then, all was silent, but for the clinking of the glass. He glanced over his shoulder to see Kurt clutching his stomach, his face a ghostly pale, paler than usual.

"Hey, baby, are you okay?" Blaine said, letting go of the plate. He wasn't paying attention to where he was sitting it and it slipped out of the cabinet and crashed loudly onto the linoleum floor. Kurt jerked; Blaine could see that he was now sweating and his lips were outlined in purple. He ran to Kurt as he slowly slid down the wall.

"Talk to me! What's wrong?" Blaine couldn't disguise the terror in his words.

"I-Blaine. I-my s-s-stomach. God, m-make it stop," he stammered, tears welling, threatening to slither over the edge.

Blaine's adrenaline was pumping. He could think of nothing except Kurt, and how to make his pain go away. He took in a gulp of air and slowly lifted Kurt's frail body, carrying him over to the couch in the living room. He laid him down as gently as possible, but Kurt still winced. The small sound made Blaine's skin crawl. He pulled himself away long enough to fetch a warm towel and place it on Kurt's forehead. He then kneeled beside him and clutched his clammy hand.

"Kurt, you have to tell me what to do," Blaine begged, "tell me how to make it better." Tears began to fall from his own eyes, but he wiped them away quickly, not wanting Kurt to see. He felt helpless, sitting there, unable to comfort his boyfriend. Kurt shut his eyes and sucked in a breath; he let it out with a moan…and blood. A fountain of blood.