I was accepted into the Warblers within a week. Blaine's speech about not giving up on music was all that it took to convince me that I could use some music in my life again (along with a constant inner mantra of I'm safe here.)The first practices - which occurred every Tuesday and Thursday - consisted of me learning the songs and dance steps, and how to mix into the fold. It was critical that everything be perfect for Sectionals, because it would be Dalton again McKinley at Regionals. I felt conflicted about competing against my friends, but at the same time it felt great to have something to look forward to. Blaine got all the solos, and while it was slightly irksome that the spotlight did only shine on him, he was also a brilliant singer and he captured everyone's attention when he sang. Maybe he didn't have the tallest stature, but it didn't show when he performed. Blaine was a powerhouse of fun and talent, and my soul ached to harmonize with him, just the two of us in a duet.

Nevertheless, it did come as a surprise to me when Blaine brought it up one day during lunch. We both sat outside together, every day. It was a tradition I was constantly afraid he would break. That Wednesday was particularly sunny, with no gentle breeze to ease the blazing heat. I took off my blazer immediately, loosening my tie and rolling the cuffs. Usually I was a stickler for the rules, my uniform neat and impeccable, which was why Blaine felt the need to smirk at my less-than-tidy appearance. He didn't have his guitar today, and indeed was bringing it less and less as we began to speak to each other more and more. I nodded at him, hoping my face was disguising the way he made my heart flip flop on the inside. Blaine always looked happy to see me, something I couldn't afford to look into, and I ignored it. I could tell, though, that Blaine had an eager glint to his eye, and he wasted no time divulging what he wanted to say.

"I think we should do a duet."

I choked on the sandwich I had been in the middle of chewing, grimacing as it slid down my throat painfully. "As in, together?" Inwardly I rolled my eyes at my own response. It was progress though. Blaine was opening me up, getting me to talk more and more, and I was always rewarded with one of his blinding heartfelt grins.

"Yes, together," he answered in a slight mockery of my higher-pitched tone. "I thought maybe we could sing 'I Won't Give Up' by Jason Mraz."

This choice surprised me. But then, did Blaine ever stop shocking me? "Why that one?" I was acutely aware that it was a romantic love song.

"Because," he emphasized, "It's a great song. And I was just thinking that if we were going to do it at Regionals, it should be emotional. Between people who have chemistry." His gold eyes met mine, a flash jumping across the amber as if challenging me to deny it. I gaped at him, struggling to regain any kind of composure before he spoke again. "So what do you say?" Blaine prompted, his eagerness clearly shown in his expression, but I sensed wariness in his eyes at my lack of reaction.

I deliberated it for a moment. Even though I was so looking forward to potentially singing something with Blaine, was it really such a good idea? I had only just started singing again, and singing such a vulnerable song would only make me more insecure. I'd meant to keep Blaine at a comfortable distance, so as not to weigh him down with all the baggage I come with, but he was by my side relentlessly - between classes, during meals, even at night in the dorm. He'd ask me mundane questions about my life - my favorite color, my friends at McKinley - and I'd answer as truthfully as I could. The only time I had to lie was when he asked about my mom, and why I never talked about her. I told Blaine she divorced my dad and didn't look back. I couldn't tell him about her death, couldn't let myself open up to him like that. In return for my honesty, Blaine let me ask anything him anything I wanted. My questions started out trivial, but once I saw he was fearless about answering anything, they began to get more personal. I knew about his absent parents, always on vacation or a business trip; about his brother, who worked in Hollywood and was in show business; even about his ex-boyfriends, after some persuasion. It felt odd to me that someone could be so completely trustworthy of a friend they barely knew, but maybe that was just how Blaine was. Friendly and incredibly kind, with nothing to hide.

"I would love too." My voice sounded more elated than I felt, butterflies already beginning to stretch their wings in the pit of my gut. Added to that were liquefied legs as Blaine beamed with that smile that brought even the brightest spotlights to shame. He jumped at me, pulling me in for a tight hug that had me tense, arms covering my middle protectively, before finally coming to my senses and loosening up slightly. Pulling away, Blaine sat back on his heels, still looking at me. His smile was still there, but fainter now, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. He was studyingme, and all I could do was wait until he finished. The silence stretched on, but wasn't awkward, as we looked at each other, somehow communicating, words unneeded. It was an intense feeling, being under his gaze, and I couldn't help but squirm. My movements seemed to bring Blaine back to earth, and he stood abruptly, dusting off his trousers. He looked down at me, one triangular eyebrow raised. "Coming?"

"I can't get it."

"Yes, you can." Blaine threw the sheet music on top of the piano furiously. "Why don't you ever have faith in your ability? I've heard you hit that note before, Kurt. Try it." He hit a key on the piano with a little too much force, the note echoing only slightly in the high- ceiling room. I turned away, eyes welling up foolishly at his harsh tone. "Maybe you should pick someone else to sing with. I can't do it."

Blaine's sigh was loud and aggravated. I could just imagine him resting his elbows on the top of the piano, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. I felt awful for disappointing him, for giving less than what I was capable of. It was true, I had hit that high E before, but it was only once, and my voice had immediately squeaked and cracked afterwards. I'd run out of rehearsal, sobbing from embarrassment, curling up on my bed and sobbing some more for how ridiculous I was being. It took almost a week to even speak to Blaine again, and rehearsals didn't resume for a while after that. Now finally, I had built up the courage to try it again, but now that I was here, the fear was creeping into my limbs and up my throat, making singing and evenbreathing impossible. I felt a light fluttering touch on my shoulder. "What are you so afraid of?" The words were hardly a whisper, but in the otherwise silent room, they spoke volumes.

My head falls to my chest, arms crossed around my chest to make myself as small as possible. Fingernails dug into palms as my chest shuddered with stuttering sobs. "Failure."

I'd never admitted that before. Not to anyone. Not even myself.

The grip on my shoulder tightens in a comforting squeeze, though it does little to calm my emotions. "You don't need to worry about that, Kurt. Not with me. You're safe with me."

I inhaled again, gulping down a large amount of air. It seemed to clear my head. I spun around and took the sheet music. "Give me the note."

Blaine's grin was miniscule, as if afraid of scaring me away. Trying to keep a serious face, his finger tapped down on the white key. My voiced flowed from my mouth, completely without any control, but I scaled up to the note and hit it, and it sustained for a few moments before coming back down. My mouth snapped shut, teeth clacking together as the realization of what I had just done began to sink in my mind. Blaine was smiling at me so widely – something he did so often, I'd begun to expect it – and I felt my lip twitch upwards, pride swelling my chest. A relieved half-chuckle left my lips, and I had to brace myself against the piano. Blue met amber as my eyes met Blaine's, and I could feel everything he was feeling in that instant. He nodded, and I felt something pass through me that I hadn't realized I'd been craving – approval.

"You did it," Blaine said. "I'm so proud of you." He didn't have to say it. I already knew.

And then there was tension. I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine, and the attraction I felt and had been pushing away was now rising to the surface, hot and pumping through my veins. My breath caught as I watched Blaine's eyes fall to my lips. On impulse I licked them, trying to reverse the dryness in my mouth that suddenly made me feel like I'd swallowed a desert. Blaine took one step closer to me, and then another, his fingers lightly dragging against the top of the polished black piano. I could read his expression so plainly – he was always an open book – and I saw the desire in his eyes. It frightened me, that he reciprocated my feelings, but I willed myself not to be so delicate and sensitive, for God's sake. I wasn't made of porcelain. Maybe I'd cracked before, but I hadn't broken. No need to have a panic attack now. Not just before my first kiss.

Blaine was so close now. I could feel his breath tickling my chin. I rapidly began wishing there was a chair for me to sit down on, because my knees felt much too weak to be supporting my weight. Needing to brace myself on something, I latched myself on to the first thing my hand came in contact with – which happened to be Blaine's shoulder. He seemed surprised although not displeased that I had initiated physical contact. It spurred him on, and then he was right there, and he was looking at me with eyes that were almost completely black, rimmed by a small circle of amber. "Is this okay?" he whispered, and our lips and noses brushed so slightly, we were standing that close. I barely mumbled a response before his mouth was on mine, incredibly soft and gentle, not at all pushy or forceful. His hands stayed by his sides, but mine held on to him as tight as I could, tangling fingers in his hair and into the folds of his shirt. I was feeling so much in that moment that it physically hurt, how much I wanted to be with Blaine, and be around him all the time, because he made me feel so wonderful and I didn't want to lose that, ever. And then his tongue touched my lips and it became too much, I was on sensory overload and my mind was overwhelmed. I pushed him away roughly, wincing as his back bent over the side of the piano from the force. My right hand went to my left wrist, to the scars there, and they were ugly and jagged but also comforting. I didn't run, just stood there feeling more ashamed than I ever have. I wouldn't look at Blaine, wouldn't see the judgment that was undoubtedly residing in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I squeaked, surprising myself by even possessing the ability to speak anymore.

"What for?" Blaine mumbled, but it was rhetorical. I saw him rubbing his neck from the corner of my eye as I stared down at my shoes. He sighed. I hated when he sighed. It made me think he was disappointed in me. "Kurt-,"

"Maybe I should just go," I muttered. I thought he would stop me. I expected a hand on my shoulder as I turned around. But there was nothing. No sound, no movement from Blaine.

I left. I didn't look back to see if he was following.

I knew he wouldn't.