It hadn't taken much to persuade Kurt to help ‘decorate' the apartment. At first he'd gotten excited, muttering about paint swatches and contrasting furniture but then he'd realised what painting the walls would mean. Painting the walls meant painting over all of Blaine's work, the beautiful pieces immortalised on plain plasterboard. That's what prompted him to realise what Blaine actually meant by ‘decorating'. Blaine wanted Kurt to use the walls as his canvas, just as he had when the apartment was his alone. He wanted Kurt to help make it theirs.

Kurt was so touched that he immediately went to work. Even the door frames, windowsills and skirting boards were wound in his creations. Almost every blank space was filled and their home really was a work of art. After winter break Blaine officially asked Kurt to move in and after four years the walls still weren't filled despite the odd grey area where Arabella had gotten overzealous with the crayons and neither Kurt nor Blaine had the heart to wash it off.

In four short years Blaine was happier than he had ever been. Cooper had a lovely new girlfriend Emily, who fawned over Kurt and Blaine so much more than she did Cooper that there would have been reason to believe that she was only with Cooper for them had it not been for the fact that she was very much in love with him and cared for Bella as if she were her birth mother. Kurt had forayed into fashion design, earning himself money at an internship at Vogue whilst doing commissions on the side for the extra cash. Blaine's final piece earned him a transfer offer from the New York Academy of Art where he finished his schooling and through various exhibits and hoity-toity gallery events he earned his place as a member of the New York City Artist's Guild's up and coming list. The success was sweet but all the celebratory sex they'd been having was even sweeter.

Four years and a Thursday found Kurt out meeting a commissioning client as Blaine rushed around the place trying to make everything just so. His plan was sketchy and as Kurt's return drew closer he started to panic. He'd painstakingly arranged everything but still fretted over even the tiniest detail. He knew he should have planned better but his main concern was what it was all for. Convinced he could do no more he settled into position and resigned himself to another forty five minutes of waiting.

.oO0Oo.

Kurt was having one of the most stressful days of his life. He'd spent all morning finalising with his boss at Vogue his contribution to the first spring issue and then dashed straight off to meet with his client, Mrs Leonita, a small woman with big unreasonable demands and an even bigger head. Kurt should have just refused to work for her but he needed the money and she was a lawyer, reeling in big money so she could afford high quality pieces like Kurt's.

He loved his job and he loved doing the odd commission here and there but he missed the college days where he and Blaine would rush to class or work and return home later always to each other, spending hours before the sunset sketching and painting before abandoning their hard work for sweeter and sweatier pursuits.

As he trudged up the stairs to the apartment his breath came a little easier and the tightness in his chest eased considerably. He was hoping for one of those afternoons. The thought of Blaine, flitting around the apartment working studiously on his latest creation, most likely with a cigarette in hand, was what got him through long boring days at the office and tedious meetings with the likes of Mrs Leonita.

He didn't hear the usual commotion behind his front door as he stepped up to let himself in, which struck him as curious to say the least, Blaine was seldom quiet. He paid it no heed though as he let out a long suffering sigh, turned the key in the lock and shoved his shoulder against the wood to pop it open. He took his coat and boots off in the hallway, for once taking little notice of where they landed and being much more concerned with luring his boyfriend away from his work and forcing him into cuddly submission.

"Hey honey!" He called out into the strangely silent apartment, "I'm home and I swear if Mrs Leonita calls one more time to ‘see how it's going' I'm going to cross-hatch her face with my fingernails." When Blaine didn't reply he instantly felt uneasy. Lately silence was rare and often only meant one thing. Something they only referred to as ‘a bad day'. They didn't happen frequently but when they did they were unpredictable. A heavy silence usually meant the calm before the storm, the few short days when tension would build and Blaine's thoughts would scream at him before he finally snapped.

"Blaine, baby?" He called nervously, shuffling towards the living room, "I'm home, are you oka- OH!" The moment Kurt rounded the corner to the living room he felt the tears threatening to fall. With a mixture of relief and shock he stumbled back, leaning heavily against the wall as a startled squeaky giggle escaped from behind the hand clasped over his mouth.

There, in the middle of the living room, sat Blaine cross legged and jittery, holding a little black box and wearing a watery smile. He was surrounded by art work, sketches of them both scattered across the floor and pinned across the walls, candles flickering steadily dotted randomly around the room. The apartment was cast in shifting shadows and warm orange light. The paint and pastel of the pieces arranged artfully on easels glowed incandescent. The curve of Kurt's lower back appeared as smooth and as pale as porcelain, the irises of Blaine's eyes soft and shining in the candle light.

They were nothing compared to the real thing. Blaine, down on one knee then, hands fumbling with the little black box. "Before you say it I know the candles around this much paper is a fire hazard but conveniently John hasn't fixed the wiring yet." Blaine laughed breathlessly, fighting to get the box open and just ask already. "Blaine I-" Kurt started, unable to hold the tears at bay any longer. "No no no just- just let me- shit." Blaine mumbled, sliding forward on his knees and subsequently dropping the box. "This would have been a lot smoother with electricity and without the paper cuts."

Kurt grinned, slipping to his knees in front of Blaine and handing him back the box. "Deep breath and on three..." Kurt started. "Tell me you're in love with me." Blaine breathed out in reply, "I'm nervous, I feel like I'm asking you to prom."

"I expect this is a little bigger than prom Blaine."

"Right yeah. Thanks for that, I'm just gonna-"

"Kurt."

"Good start." Blaine sent him a half hearted glare.

"Kurt. I never dared to hope I'd end up as happy as I am with you. I know we don't have much, hell that elevator's still a death trap and there are at least three health and safety issues in every room. But it's home, really we could be living in motels and it would still be home, because you're with me. You're beautiful and smart and witty and funny and sexy and gorgeous and I'm the luckiest man on earth. We've been through hard times and through it all I've never been able to believe how lucky I am, that I'm yours and you're mine. So if you'd like, if you'll have me, I want forever. Kurt Hummel, marry me maybe?"

Kurt stared for a long while, paying no attention to Blaine as he bounced anxiously on his knees. "How long did it take you to rehearse that?" He asked, misty eyes dancing playfully in the flickering candle light. Blaine didn't answer. He held the elegant silver band in between his thumb and forefinger before asking once more.

"Sposami, amore mio."

"Sì."

Blaine yelped in victory smiling and crying as he yanked Kurt in by his shirt collar. He peppered his face with kisses, kissing away tears and tasting salt on his lips. He fumbled with the ring once more, slipping it on and kissing the knuckle without taking his eyes off Kurt's. Kurt took a closer look at the ring before climbing into Blaine's lap, knocking him onto his back, the flurry of paper causing most of the candles to extinguish. In the fading light the engraving shone, the promise plain and simple.

Ti amo, mia musa. Da sempre e per sempre.