Chapter 15b:

"Can I take this stupid thing off yet" Kurt huffed from beneath the blindfold that Blaine had insisted he wear for Phase two of the day's operations.

 So far Kurt had been bundled into Blaine's waiting car at the bottom of Cedar Point, blindfolded and told not to ask questions and he was starting to wonder whether he'd made somewhat of a mistake in trusting Blaine Anderson.

 "No you can't and stop breaking the aforementioned rules Kurt Hummel. You are a lousy person to surprise"

 Kurt could hear the smile in the other man's voice and rolled his eyes in what was starting to be his go to expression for dealing with this excited puppy of a man; the eye roll fell a little flat however when the recipient couldn't see it. Kurt huffed again.

 "Are you kidnapping me? Should I be dialling 911 right now?"

 Blaine sighed an over exaggerated breath and moved nearer to the other man, sliding his hand gently along Kurt's thigh before leaning in close to his ear.

 "I am not kidnapping you but if you continue to ask questions about your surprise, I am going to be forced to gag you too." He whispered seductively.

 Despite himself, Kurt shivered with excitement at the words and Blaine sat back in his seat, shaking with silent, contained laughter.

 "God Kurt you are too easy!" he chuckled. Kurt huffed for a third time but remained silent, unable to disguise the small tug at the corner of his mouth.

 Neither man had spoken about the reasons behind this day; neither wanted to break the cheerful and light atmosphere that Blaine's little mission had prompted. As he watched the tiny hint of a smile twitching Kurt's lips, Blaine felt a small pull of hope in his heart.

 He had no idea if this would work. Realistically, he was under no illusion that he could do enough in one day to make Kurt fight; that he was important enough, but he'd reconciled himself to whatever fate wanted. He'd been thrown intentionally into Kurt Hummel's path at this exact point in time for a reason; even if that reason was to simply give the man one more memory to take with him then Blaine was going to do it.

 Peering out of the window, Blaine let himself smile again as they pulled up at his planned destination. After parking the car and looking around to check no one was watching, he carefully helped the blindfolded man from the vehicle and turned him towards the direction they were heading.

 "Right, so where we're going is a little walk in this direction, so I'm going to steer and you're going to walk forward."

 Placing his hands on either side of Kurt's hips and positioning himself behind him, Blaine let his breath tickle over his ear again.

"Do you trust me?"

Kurt didn't answer, just swallowed thickly and nodded a jerky tilt of his head. Blaine grinned again.

 Despite being blindfolded, Kurt was aware of his other senses being heightened and strained his ears in an attempt to help him identify where they were. They were outside, the sun was still warm on his face under the scarf and he could smell the grass that was undoubtedly underfoot. The scent was mingled with a sweeter smell of -  ice-cream maybe - and the more pungent aroma of hotdogs and pretzel stalls.

 All around were the voices of people, old and young, none particularly distinguishable, the muted tones telling Kurt they were somewhere open and vast. The only place Kurt could think of that fit the bill in Columbus was Topiary Park and he wondered curiously why they were here. He'd been before, again only to pass through on his way to the library which was situated behind it, but he'd always thought it a bit too tamed and ordered for his liking. Now though his interest was perked.

 A tug on his hips reminded him that Blaine was still wrapped around his back and the movement had forced him to stop. Blaine leaned forward again and said quietly,

 "Do you know where we are?"

 Kurt smiled a little cockily and shifted his weight in his hip in a display of sass,

 "Of course. Don't think you can surprise me Mr Anderson. I have lived in this city for too long. Are you going to tell me why we are in Topiary Park?"

 Blaine smiled again and moved his hands up to play with the knot at the back of the blindfold.

 "Very good Mr Hummel. Very good." He moved a tiny fraction closer again and pressed his chest flush against the other man's back, enjoying the way he shivered at the touch, "But I still think I can surprise you."

 He allowed Kurt to remove the blindfold, not wanting to alert attention from passers-by to his odd behaviour, standing in the park alone and making strange hand movements. No one was paying attention however and he gave himself a moment to watch Kurt's eyes as they blinked against the harsh light.

 Kurt looked around him. The park was busy as always but this time most people were dotted around on blankets and picnic chairs, groups of families chatting together and clearly waiting for something to begin.

 His eyes roamed over the heads of the people and lighted on a make-shift stage that had been erected to the left-hand side of the park's landmark design; the topiary recreation of Seurat's "A Sunday Afternoon on the Isle of La Grande Jatte" painting. Kurt loved that painting. The people milling around the beautiful banks of the Seine had always struck him as looking so transitory, so hazy and vague like all of their lives weren't solid imprints on the canvas, just shifting shapes and forms. It had always reminded him of how he felt in the world.

 Now though, his eyes moved beyond the carefully shaped trees and shrubs back to the stage and he quirked an eyebrow in Blaine's direction. Blaine just shook his head slightly and sat down in the grass, silently indicating for Kurt to do the same after spreading out the blanket that he'd taken from the car.

 "What is this?" Kurt asked, a pleading look in his eyes.

 "Just wait"

 "But..."

 "Just wait" he said again, more insistent.

 Blaine had carefully chosen a spot that was secluded; it didn't afford them the best view of the stage but it did mean they were completely alone, the nearest group of people being positioned a good fifty metres away from their blanket. It meant he could talk to Kurt without fear of being locked up in a psych ward and touch him if he really wanted. Right now, he really wanted.

 Kurt seemed aware of Blaine's twitching fingers and taking a deep breath, moved himself between Blaine's knees, sitting with his back pressed against the other man's chest and feeling his heart thump against his rib cage.

 If Blaine was surprised at the sudden display of affection, he didn't show it; simply wrapped his arms around Kurt's body and rested his chin on his shoulder, pulling the body nearer almost imperceptibly. Neither spoke, just allowed their bodies to be rocked by the rhythms of their synchronised breaths.

 Suddenly there was movement on the stage and a quartet of string musicians entered, setting up their instruments and fiddling with music sheets and stands. An applause rippled through the waiting crowd and Kurt turned his head slightly to look at Blaine questioningly.

 "Just listen" was all he said, pressing a tiny kiss to the back of the man's hair that was tickling his lips.

 The first few strings of Vivaldi drifted across the garden lawns and seemed to wrap themselves around Kurt as he listened, frozen and awed. Soft, delicate notes wafted and danced around the topiary and seeped into every pore of him and Kurt had barely noticed when he started to cry. The silent tears splashed onto Blaine's arms as they wrapped even tighter around the man, trying to anchor him into place and allow him to feel the gravity holding him down. Real. Solid.

 He'd been intending to come to this impromptu concert when he'd heard about it three weeks ago but somewhere in the midst of all of the pain of the past two days he'd forgotten. Reading Kurt's journal the night before had brought this hurtling back into his conscious and he had known instantly that this was something Kurt needed to experience. It wasn't showy or elaborate; wasn't a soaring and rousing orchestral display meant to punch the listener in the gut. Instead, this was poetic and beautiful. Wandering melodies and hauntingly light notes that reminded him so much of Kurt. It didn't demand attention and yet you couldn't fail to be captivated by it.

 The force of it took both men's breath away.

 The afternoon drifted into early evening and still the music played on. Kurt had never in all his years since winning Nationals with Glee, experienced anything that made him tingle like this. His skin prickled and shivered with current, his heart constricting and pumping achingly tight in his chest. He felt electric. He felt alive.

 And it terrified him.

 He hadn't allowed himself to feel this. When he was trapped inside himself after the accident he hadn't allowed himself to think or believe or hope. Before the truck, he'd been asleep. Drifting through life, each day losing less and less colour and vitality. He hadn't felt alive. So when he was imprisoned; when his heart could thump but nothing else could move, he'd chosen to slip away. Chosen to move outside of himself and look back at the shell that he saw without shock. Of course there was no shock; he'd already seen that shell. He'd been looking at that shell in the mirror for the past eight months.

 But now Blaine was making him feel things. He was making him want things and Kurt couldn't decide if that was exciting or dangerous. He'd already gone. What was the point in trying to feel again if he'd already left? What if it was all too late?

 "It's not too late Kurt."

 Kurt jumped, his reverie shattered by Blaine's achingly perceptive words. He trembled slightly and then cleared his throat, not wanting to think, not wanting this day to end just yet and hurtle back into reality. Nudging against Blaine's ribs slightly and ignoring his painful words, he laughed lightly.

 "So Mr Anderson. I do believe you have managed to surprise me. Touché. Now what's next?"