Kurt frowned at himself in his bedroom mirror as he adjusted his tie. He’d picked a deep, silky red: festive and appropriate for the holiday, even though he didn’t feel like celebrating at all. Not when he had to spend Valentine’s Day without his boyfriend.

The thought of Valentine’s Day at school without Blaine was enough to make him want to crawl back under the covers and hide from society until February fifteenth rolled around. Blaine was still at home, under strict doctor’s orders to stay in bed until the weekend as he recovered from his concussion. Sure, Kurt would see him tonight after glee club – they’d probably watch a movie and eat dinner in bed together, settling for simply being in each other’s presence instead of…more preferable romantic activities.

But before that, Kurt would have to get through the entire school day without him: looking on as the rest of the world drowned in candy and kisses and lovey-dovey glances. It was just his luck: the first Valentine’s Day that he actually had a boyfriend, and they couldn’t even enjoy it together. 

Kurt sighed bitterly as he descended the stairs. He couldn’t even drum up the motivation to go to the Lima Bean that morning; the memory of puppy love and cupid cookies still burning too brightly for him to face it alone. He’d just pour himself a travel mug of his dad’s boring coffee on his way out.

His mood shifted instantly when he saw the single rose lying on the console table beside his car keys. Kurt’s heart fluttered lightly as he tentatively picked up the flower, gazing in wonder at its perfect, velvety, deep red petals.

It was then that he noticed the slip of paper, tied to the stem with a gauzy white ribbon. Hot, happy tears pricked behind Kurt’s eyes as he read the short note, written in Blaine’s unmistakable messy block font.

One is for your place in my heart. I love you more than I ever thought I could love another person.

“Hello?” Kurt’s voice – high and thin through the gigantic smile that had formed on his face – echoed around the empty house. Strange. Finn was usually running well behind him, rushing out the door to make it to school on time. 

Clearly, something was going on. 

Kurt tiptoed throughout the first floor, checking behind doors and furniture for…what, exactly, he didn’t know. Blaine certainly wouldn’t be in his house, hiding in a closet or under a table.

Feeling a little foolish, Kurt brought his rose into the kitchen, dropping it in a bud vase along with some lukewarm water. He grinned at the gorgeous flower one last time before heading out the door.

As he walked down the path to his car, he pulled his phone from his shoulder bag, intent on sending Blaine a text filled with fancy words of love and gratitude. But a tiny flash of red through the windshield of his car stopped him dead in his tracks: it was another rose, this one lying on his driver’s seat.

Kurt yanked open his car door and grabbed the rose, eagerly scrabbling at the white paper attached to it.

Two is for Finn and Rachel. Why Finn and Rachel? Because they’ve become two of my closest friends – almost like the brother and sister I always wished for, but never had. I only know them because of you. Can’t you picture all four of us in the future, sitting around a holiday table together, one big happy family? (Also, they’re my partners in crime today. And no, they won’t answer your questions, so don’t even ask.)

Kurt could barely see through his tears as he gently placed the rose down in his lap and typed out a text.

From Kurt (7:04 a.m.): BLAINE.

His mind couldn’t form any other word but the name: Blaine Blaine Blaine. That wonderful boy had his heart completely: owned it, held it in his hands, could tug and squeeze it like nobody else. The day he’d been dreading mere minutes before had suddenly, surprisingly brightened, and now he couldn’t wait to see what else was in store.

Sure enough, when Kurt got to school he saw the rose from the other end of the hallway: its long stem woven through the padlock on his locker, a little white note flapping in the breeze as students hurried by. Kurt raced down the hall to retrieve the flower before a passerby could damage or steal it.

Three is for the number of times we…well, you remember, right? The first night we…yeah. That was an amazing night. I’m so glad you were my first. I hope you’re my last, my only, my forever.

Kurt blushed furiously as he recalled exactly what Blaine was referring to, looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody else could see the message. With the memory of that night warm in his mind and his belly, Kurt tucked the rose in his locker, silently praying it would make it through the day without water.

Waiting for him on his desk in homeroom, and in first period English, and in second period government, were more roses, each with another lovely message.

Four is for the times you’ve tried to teach me how to make a soufflé. Sorry I always distract myself by licking powdered sugar off your nose. Maybe fifth time’s the charm? (Or maybe I just want an excuse to kiss your nose some more.) 

Five is for the colors in your eyes. Blue, green, gray, gold, brown. I have them memorized by heart. They always make me think of the song… "Your eyes are like starlight now"

Six is for the average number of layers I have to peel from your body every time we…I’m afraid to write out some of these thoughts just in case someone is peeking. (Ahem, Rachel.) I promise I’ll finish that sentence once I’m no longer concussed ;-)  For the record, I like the layers. Anticipation is sweet.

By lunch, Kurt was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. As he walked to the cafeteria, he began typing out a long text in response to the reply Blaine had sent him during government class. But after a moment’s thought, he decided to delete it; content to wait until he saw Blaine in person to properly thank him for the wonderful surprise.

From Blaine (11:19 a.m.): Hmmmm?

From Kurt (12:33 p.m.): You’re amazing. That’s all for now. Anticipation is sweet, indeed.

Rachel, Finn, Tina and Mike were already eating when Kurt arrived at their lunch table.

“What are you so cheery about?” Tina asked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively at the three roses in his hand. 

Finn and Rachel shared a knowing glance as Kurt reached for the rose sitting conspicuously on the empty seat beside them. The message accompanying this flower was longer; scribbled on the inside of a white note card, fixed to the stem with the same filmy ribbon like all the others.

Seven is for the times I fell in love with you before I actually told you I loved you.

1. When I first saw you on the stairs at Dalton. You were so beautiful and nervous, and such a terrible spy.
2. Your quip about volunteering for a stray cat rescue at the bottom of a coal mine. The Warblers needed the infusion of wit and humor you brought, even if it was only for a brief, shining time. Lucky me, I got to keep it after that.
3. For the record, you were much better than that girl was.
4. "How can I tell you about my loved one?" I know that “accidental” brush against my pants was anything but. Quite a bold move for such a public setting.
5. When you told me you would never say goodbye to me. It still brings tears to my eyes when I think about the way you held me tight when you said it. I’m holding you to that statement, Kurt Hummel.
6. Your coronation, my queen. You’re the bravest person I know.
7. When you left for nationals in New York. All I could think was, I can’t wait until the day when we leave for that city together.

“Oh my god, someone take a picture of that boy’s face right now and slap it in the dictionary next to the word love.”

Mercedes’ voice broke through Kurt’s dopey, love-struck haze as he finished reading Blaine’s note for the third time. Kurt couldn’t even bring himself to roll his eyes. He just kept on smiling, clutching the four roses in his lap while he listened happily to his friends’ Valentine’s Day celebration plans.

His afternoon was more of the same sweet surprise – a rose and a message welcomed him in French class, then calculus. He barely registered the jealous look the girl next to him shot her friend as he placed his growing collection of roses on his desk.

Eight is for the number of times you came to my show at Six Flags last summer. I can’t believe you sat through that silly thing so often. That was love, baby.

Nine is for the nights you’ve laid here with me since I got hurt. I’m sorry I’ve been a boring, injured mess, especially today. I guess we’ve got the “in sickness and in health” part down now, though.

Kurt practically skipped to glee rehearsal at the end of the day: his arms full of roses, his head full of dreams and his heart full of love. He was the last one there; everyone else was already crowded around his seat – empty but for a single rose and note.

Ten is for the wonderful new friends you’ve given me through glee club. (Yes, I know there are more than ten people in New Directions. I don’t really know that girl Sugar very well yet, and Puck and Santana still kind of scare me.) I could never replace the Warblers, but New Directions will always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you for bringing me to them.

That was the only message Kurt shared with everyone – even Puck and Santana, who seemed pleased with their status in Blaine’s life. The rose passed around the room from person to person, eliciting murmurs of “Aww, Blaine!” from the girls and goofy little smiles from the guys.

“So, did you like your surprise?” Rachel whispered to him as Mr. Schue droned on about regionals.

Kurt simply leaned his head toward her, their hair lightly touching. “I’ve never been happier. Thanks for helping out.”

“There’s one more waiting for you outside,” she hinted with a wink before turning to Finn and giving him a stealthy high-five.

The last rose was on his windshield, tucked under a wiper blade and a thin layer of sleet that had fallen over Lima that afternoon. Kurt paused, hoping to remember forever the way the icy crystals sparkled against the rose’s red petals in the weak winter sunlight. He couldn’t help but capture the beautiful image with his phone, sending the photo to Blaine along with a simple caption: “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

Gingerly, he lifted the wiper blade and pulled out the rose, peeking at the note tied to the stem. The sleet had caused the black ink to bleed in a few places, but Blaine’s clear words of love still shot straight to Kurt’s heart.

Eleven is for the months I’ve been lucky enough to call you my boyfriend. Let’s make it another eleven months, eleven years, times eleven, till infinity. If there’s any chance you’re still feeling down because of my not being with you at school today, just think of all the Valentine’s Days we have yet to come. I love you, Kurt. Now get your butt over to my house so we can finally celebrate.

Kurt got in his car and placed his nine roses on the seat beside him, along with the one he’d found on his driver’s seat that morning. He sat back and stared for a moment at the beautiful flowers, the crisp white notes, the tangle of delicate ribbon against black leather.

Could he have ever predicted any of this last Valentine’s Day? He’d hoped for it, dreamed about it, of course; but somehow, the reality Blaine had shown him was far sweeter than anything he ever concocted in his mind. 

With one last glance at his roses, Kurt turned on the ignition and carefully navigated out of the icy parking lot, heading straight for Blaine’s house.