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PROLOGUE - Chapter 1

*****

Kurt sees the truck coming. The lights stab into his eyes, blinding him, and for a second he sees himself, face illuminated, eyes wide and shocked and teary as though he could already feel the pain of impact. Then, everything goes white.

When he opens his eyes again he's standing on the side of the street, safe, and he turns to see the truck vanish in the distance. Slowly, almost sheepishly, he looks up at the kind face that floats in the moon, plastered against the stars.

Thank you, Blaine.

Kurt can feel him: his laugh and the swish of his wings.

Thank you, my guardian angel.

*****

It started one night many years before, a night of despair and rushed decisions.

Kurt's dad was silent and wrapped in hospital sheets while Kurt's friends were laughing, joking, oblivious to how painful it was to live without his father. And so Kurt's scars remained – the bullying and bashing struck him harder than ever before.

He was in a park, alone, moonlight reflecting on the kitchen knife in his hand, and his tears fell as he cried out in vain, shrieks that echoed beneath the trees. He lifted the blade and he wanted to dig it deep into his wrist. He wanted to feel the pain, wanted reality to blur away as the blood would stain his clothes and his breath would falter. He wanted them to find him. He wanted them to be sorry for how little they'd helped him.

But then...

...a soft, tender touch. A hand on his, ever so gentle, like a whisper to a sleeping child.

Kurt raised his head and his breath was stolen away. The boy standing in front of him was beautiful. His skin was flawless and shining like the moon, his eyes were kind and alive and a silver aura surrounded him, piercing the black night. And his wings - oh, those wings! They curved gracefully, speaking of soft, feathery warmth and shelter. They extended into the blackest of shadows, showering the world with glittering light.

The beautiful being leaned forward, and a strand of thick raven-black hair fell between his eyes as he took Kurt's hands.

“Don't, Kurt. It isn't the answer.”

Kurt gasped at the touch, dropping the knife.

“Who are you?”

“Kurt. Can't you see?”

The creature reached out with his arms as though he were embracing the night, his wings flapping softly and Kurt pulled away, eyes wide and afraid.

“Who are you?!”

“I'm Blaine,” the other boy said, his lips parted in a heart-stopping smile.

Kurt shivered. Something stirred in his heart and pooled in his belly, something that warmed his hands and made him feel.

“I'm Blaine, your guardian angel.”

He leaned in close – almost too close.

“And I will never leave your side.”