There was a coffee stained napkin, an ash tray full of cigarette butts, and three large stacks of papers that Blaine had made me promise not to touch scattered across the kitchen counter. He was sitting out on the balcony, his laptop in front of him and the city moving underneath him, even though it was nearly pitch black, similar to the contents in my coffee cup. I watched him through the curtains, tapping his cigarette and scratching at his beard, obviously having a hard time with his work. I sighed blissfully, getting up and falling back into our bed with a smile on my face. He was beautiful, from the outside all the way to the inside of him, his mind a deep ocean swimming with characters, plot lines, and prose. He said the most gorgeous things, mostly with little thought, and every phrase would stick to me. I would think about his words each night before I fell asleep, or when I was daydreaming at my desk at work, and I would always come back to wondering how this ever worked out in my favor.

    I knew I was in love with him when we were sitting at the airport in late March waiting for my father to arrive. Blaine had leaned over and whispered in my ear so casually, “You know, I’ll miss the winter. The paper thin snow and the frozen nights we’ve spent together. But, I have to say, that I think I could look in your icy blue eyes and feel it again so easily, maybe I won’t miss it too much.” If I were ice, I would have melted. I think a part of me did.

    My dad was there in the distance, but still all knowing. He saw the look on my face in that moment and told me later that it didn’t matter who Blaine was, or what he did, only how he treated me. We were in love, he said, even before I fully noticed myself, and love was too big to fight off. So he accepted us. Not everyone did, even Finn had his moments where he cringed at me being with an older man. From my current spot on the bed by the window, Blaine looked younger than I felt inside. Age was a blurry factor of our relationship I had thrown away the minute he left University of Chicago’s campus for the last time as a professor. We were at the same level and place in our lives, both now working jobs that forced us to put our all into each aspect. I was interning at a somewhat popular underground fashion website and magazine, fighting my way to the top with articles that had topics I didn’t always agree with. Blaine was writing, writing, writing until his fingers, heart, and mind hurt.

    “I’m done.” He stood in the doorframe. “I finished.” My eyes widened. He was crying, laughing, running towards the bed to climb on top of me. “Kiss me, damnit.” I leaned up and touched our lips together, expecting innocence and receiving Blaine losing himself in it. His tongue spilled in between my lips, his teeth biting at me, our bodies moving to reposition on the bed. He pressed me down into the bed, his body incredibly close to my own. Blaine’s hips rolled against mine, the kiss becoming extremely messy and open mouthed, his breathing increased as my body trembled.  He took his time with me, breathing over my body as he unbuttoned my shirt, letting his hands skim across my pale skin. “I told myself I would do this after I was done writing. I thought it would make me write faster. It’s been too long…” He dropped his head and kissed along my chest. He undid my pants, took them off, and removed my boxers. Blaine’s hands kept touching me, never stopping. They roamed up my legs, across my cock, over my lips. I moaned, I shook, I begged. He gave me everything. When didn't he?

    “Are you happy?” I was wrapped up in a blanket sitting across from him as he came down from his writing high. I watched as Blaine examined his fingers, showing me where he had an actual blister from it all. 

    “That’s a trick question.” He laughed, “With the novel? I’m not sure. With you? There’s nothing I’ve been surer of.” Blaine crawled over to where I was, sitting in front of me. “Are you happy?” I paused. I hadn’t thought about it lately. Happiness surprised me in the form of Blaine, arriving to help me see the light out of the darkness depression created. I had never really sat down and acknowledged the fact that I was happy now. I wasn’t hurting myself anymore, I wasn’t hiding anything, I had friends, I was in love. I started to laugh. I really, truly, started to laugh. Blaine laughed with me, tickling my sides, and never questioning what had started my random outburst. We rolled around together until we succumbed to being tired, lying back against the pillows. 

    “I am happy. I am so happy.”

    Blaine likes to tell me that I stole his heart. I like to think that maybe that’s where the real hiding place lies, beneath his layers. We took his heart and we used it as a shield. We damaged it together, we fixed it together. One day, I will slip on a ring, and we will switch hearts. He will take mine and I will tell him: “This is the place where I love you. I made this place for you.” And if he ever gets scared, we will hide beneath it. We will damage it and we will ruin ourselves because it’s not love if you don’t come out with cuts and bruises. I will never fix him, I will never save him. He won’t do that for me. We will save ourselves, and together, we will be beautiful.