After I calm down a bit the girls take me back to their hotel room for the rest of the night; I just need to get out of the house and away from him. When we arrive I operate on autopilot, not even paying attention to my surroundings.

            Rachel opens the door, and Quinn leads me in. I instinctively head toward the bed, crawl under the turned-down covers, and curl up into a ball; not even bothering to even take off my shoes, let alone get even a little bit undressed.

            While Quinn changes into her pajamas Rachel pulls the blankets down so she can take off my shoes, making me shiver. Once she's done with that Rachel starts in on my coat, waiting for Quinn to be done so they can sit me up and pull the coat off. I just let them undress me like a doll; I don't have the strength to resist.

            Once they're both changed, and have me stripped down to my shirt and boxers, Quinn hands me a spare pair of pants so I'll be more comfortable. At first I just stare at them blankly, but eventually I realize what I'm supposed to do with them, and numbly pull them on. As soon as I finish Rachel pushes me back down into the bed before both she and Quinn lie down on either side of me, pull the covers back up, then curl around me, each twinning their fingers with each of my hands on my stomach.

            "Thank you," I say out of habit, recalling the various other times Quinn, and occasionally Rachel, did this for me. They both squeeze my hands and kiss my cheek in reply. One last tear crawls its way down my cheek before I fall into a restless slumber.

            "You can make it up to him, you know," Cooper says as he stands in the doorway of the attic, arms crossed over his chest, eyes examining me as I sit in a sort of fetal position.

            "Rachel said that too," I mumble glumly to my knees. "I still don't see how I can."

            "There is a way," he says cryptically. When I just stare back in silent confusion Cooper rolls his eyes at me and elaborates. "Just tell him the truth."

            "Seriously?" I deadpan. I get off the bed and start pacing around the room as I rant. "How the fuck am I supposed to tell Blaine how I feel when you know for a fact that he's not going to want to stay in the same room as me, let alone listen to a word I'm saying?!"

            Cooper ignores the question. "How do you feel about Blaine?" he asks; whether he just wants to hear me say it or he honestly doesn't know, I can't tell.

            I stop and glare at him. "You know how I feel about him." He just stares back, waiting. I sigh in exasperation and throw my hands in the air. "Fine, you want me to actually say it? I love him, okay?! I - love - Blaine."

            After a minute more of examining my face, most likely to see if I'm telling the truth, he smirks. "Good," he finally says. "I was hoping you would say that."

            My mouth drops open. When Cooper continues to smirk at me I growl and run my hands through my hair in frustration. "Ugh why are you Andersons so damn frustrating?"

            Cooper laughs outright at that. "Just a talent I guess," he snickers.

            This time I roll my eyes at him. "All right," I sigh out. "Now you've heard me say it, how exactly am I supposed to tell Blaine?"

            He grins. "It's simple," Cooper replies. "We lock the two of you in the same room."

            I fidget in my seat in the study, waiting impatiently for Cooper to come back with whatever surprise he has in store for me.

            It's probably something incredibly odd and oh so disturbing, knowing my brother, I think, gnawing on my bottom lip.

            I hear a slight scuffle in the doorway, and I look up just in time to see Cooper, Rachel, and Quinn shoving Kurt through the door before slamming it shut. By the time I reach it a click on the other side.

            "What the fuck Coop?" I exclaim, confused and pissed off that he'd really pull something like this.

            "You two have a nice chat now," he yells back. "Because I'm not letting either of you out until you have a serious talk."

            I kick the door, - which is solid oak by the way - not thinking in my anger, and end limping back to my chair to massage my foot.

            Kurt takes a small, tentative step toward me. "Are you all right?" he asks, concern clear on his face.

            "I'm fine," I snap, cutting him off. He falls silent, and when I glance back up I see his arms wrapped tightly around his torso, his gaze downcast. I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing. "I'm sorry..."

            "No," he says back quietly. "I'm the one that should be apologizing."

            I upturn my brows, skeptical. "Really? What for?" I ask, honestly curious as to what exactly he's apologizing for.

            Kurt sighs. "For everything. For forcing you into this, for risking your career and freedom, for lying to your family and friends," he explains. "I'm really sorry for treating you like shit all these years, especially when you've been nothing but a huge help."

            "Well that's big of -"

            "But mostly," he continues, "mostly I am so, so sorry for, first, leading you on... Then for - for not telling you the truth..."

            I wait this time before I say anything, waiting for him to say what exactly the truth is, but he doesn't say anything more.

            "What truth is that?" I coax, desperate to get out of here.

            "I mean, I certainly don't know your life story, but nobody - especially you - deserves this," Kurt says, avoiding the question and my eyes. "I can't have been easy growing up in this house, in this state, and I just shit on you just when you're doing well and -"

            "Kurt!" I interrupt to stop his babbling. He quits talking, eyes still focused on his shoes. "What - what do you mean about not telling me the truth? What haven't you told me that you should have?"

            He continues staring at the floor, but now he's really fidgeting; his twist his scarf, which I know for a fact, is a habit he hates. Ignoring my brain, which is yelling at me to just leave him be, and going with my heart instead, I slowly extricate myself from the armchair and hobble over to Kurt. When I reach him he still won't look at me, so I reach out my hand and lift his chin with my index finger so he'll look me in the eye. Still, he doesn't meet my gaze.

            "Kurt," I say quietly. "What's the truth?"

            I search his face as the words form on his lips. Finally, just when he's about to speak, Kurt's eyes meet mine.

            "I love you," he whispers brokenly.

            I have been waiting days - Has it really only been a few days? - for him to say that, but for several minutes I don't react; all I can do is stand there, staring into those mesmerizing eyes. Just when Kurt's opening his mouth, no doubt to question why I haven't replied, I rush forward those last few inches and seal our mouths together.

After a quick gasp, and a moment of utter stillness, Kurt moans, kissing me feverishly. Unsatisfied, I plunge my tongue in without asking permission; he twines his fingers in my hair in reply, yanking to draw a moan from me. My hands roughly grab his hips, fingers digging into the exposed skin. I unconsciously go up on my toes, catching Kurt by surprising and making him stumble back, taking me with him. The door rattles with the impact of his body. With my atrocious balance, I trip when Kurt stops, causing our hips to meet and draw moans out of us both. My right leg automatically slots between his, and I rub it up and down, creating delicious friction.

Surprised that no one has barged in, wondering what the commotion is, I pull back, remembering I never actually acknowledged Kurt's admission. I lean my forehead against his and rub our noses together, signaling him to open his eyes. When he does I look into them, take a deep breath, and say, rather hoarsely, "I love you too."

Rachel claps gleefully, excited that our boys are finally getting shit done; Quinn just smirks in cat-like satisfaction. I sigh in relief; glad Blaine actually listened for once.

I quietly unlock the door, and then we creep away, not wanting to disturb Kurt and Blaine.

Tired of being the one with my back against the door, I take a tighter grip on Blaine's hair and spin us around, slamming him back. The door creaks again, but it's locked so it should be fine. I remove his hands from my hips - with a bit of reluctance I might add - and pin them on either side of his head. Instinctively I lean forward, trying to bear down on him, but as soon as I do the door gives way, making Blaine fall back with a yelp - and, because I was leaning my weight toward him, I go down as well, landing on top of Blaine with an oomph.

After a second we burst out into incessant laughter, finding the situation more hilarious than it really is. Once we finally calm down we have to take a minute to catch our breath - but once we do our eyes meet again and my breath catches in my throat.

"Hi," Blaine says breathily, his eyes shifting between my own and my lips.

I can't help but grin. "Hello yourself," I reply before dipping down to place a light kiss on his lips. When I pull back, Blaine's lips follow mine, making me chuckle.

"Mmm..." he hums contently, eyes still closed. "That was nice. I request a continuance."

            I snort. "Do you really?" I snicker, deciding to move past his interesting wording. "How about we move this upstairs?"

            This time he groans and wraps his arms around my waist, trying to prevent me getting up. "Nooo," he whines. "Too comfy down here, and there are too many stairs."

            I stand up with my legs on either side of his, and then attempt to pull him up. Blaine, however, apparently deciding to be childish, makes himself deadweight, preventing me from moving him more than a couple inches.

            "Dammit Blaine, stop it," I huff, getting frustrated. When he only giggles in response, I decide to give up and drop his hands, heading toward the staircase.

            "Waaaaiiiit!!" he calls from behind me, scrambling up and clutching my hand when he reaches me.

            I shake my head at him. "You are too fucking adorable," I mutter, kissing his cheek affectionately, making him blush.

            Upon reaching my room, I drag Kurt to the bed, where we both sit down. Not out of context, he leans forward to restart the make-out, but I lean back to avoid him. He looks back at me with a slightly injured look and a little pout.

            "Hey no," I hush, placing my hand on his cheek, stroking it with my thumb. "I just want - Can we just talk please?" I query.

            Kurt sighs in relief and smiles, turning his face to kiss the palm of my hand, making me smile in return. "Of course, sweetie," he responds. "What would you like to talk about?"

            My heart melts at the pet name, but then I set my head to the task at hand.

            "Well first," I start, "is this..." I motion between the two of us, feeling like a clueless teenager for needing to ask this question. "Are we - official?"

            This time Kurt places his hand on my cheek. When he leans forward, I expect a peck on the lips like before, so I upturn mine - but instead he kisses the tip of my nose, making me smile.

            "Of course sweetie," he says, as if it's obvious - which it probably is.

            I grin in relief. "Okay," I sigh. "I had to make sure; I've been wrong before." My grin turns somewhat sheepish, but self-deprecating.

            Kurt frowns. "About that..." he inquires tentatively. "What - what happened with, um, what happened before? Because Rachel mentioned how you've been hurt before and you've only just finished recovering from that - I mean, I understand if you don't want to talk about it, I just - if you do, I'm right here, okay?"

            I smile at how incredibly and genuinely sweet my boyfriend - boyfriend - is. "No, I - I want to talk about it, with you; you deserve to know," I say, trying to figure out how to word this. I decide to just dive in. "His name was Jeremiah Finch."