Her apartment was an absolute disaster. Clothes lay strewn across the hardwood, glass from broken picture frames shattered. The whole world seemed to shiver in the darkness.

And in the center of it all, Blayne sat in a pretty, pink dress. The dress floated around her, draping across her flat chest like a pale sheet. She wasn't crying, not anymore. She was a bit done with that. Tears didn't seem to solve anything.

It had started with a text from Kurt.

Bringing my barber kit with me tonight. You know you love it when I cut your hair! xx-Kurt

It was true, Blayne did love it when Kurt cut her hair. His long fingers curling through her hair, the smell of product filling the air. And at least she didn't have to wear gel when he did her hair. But the end product.

The shorn curls, the buzzed ends of her dark locks. It was a nightmare only horrible enough for reality.

She had shook when she read the text. It was the first time since that terrifying move-in day that Kurt would cut her hair. Since she had felt Burt's arms lift her up. Since she had purchased the lockable trunk for her clothes with the money he had given her. She had only meant to open the case for a moment, look at the delicate trappings of her womanhood before Kurt came over.

She had pulled the heavy dress over her body like a cageless trap, sighing as the lace stoked over her hairy legs. The strength the dress gave her was overwhelming, fragile and blossoming, creating a storm in her heart.

And so here she was, surrounded by the remains of her mask. Ties torn, collars cut from their shirts, mens shoes roughly scuffed. Kurt would cry if he saw such a travesty.

A knock came at the door. “Blaine?” Kurt's voice sang out. “It's me,”

Blayne pressed her lips together, running her hands through her hair. “Go- Go away, Kurt,” she moaned.

“Babe?” Kurt responded, worry coloring his tone. “Blaine, what's wrong?”

Blayne sobbed silently, no tears tracing her face. She wiped her hands on the dress, crawling slowly to the door. She knelt beside it, kicking off her purple heels to lean against the door. “Kurt, please just go home,”

The doorknob shook violently.

“Blaine? Blaine please just let me in,” Kurt was near tears. Blayne could imagine him perfectly, eyes clear as a stormy sea, hands worrying near his chin. “Are you okay?”

“I'm-I'm fine, nothing...I'm not hurt,”

“Then what's going on, Blaine?” The doorknob quaked again.

Blayne's head shook as she stared at her frantically painted nails, the pink glitter mocking her.

“I'm just not feeling well,” she croaked out.

The door slammed suddenly, startling Blaine out of her gazing.

“Blaine, we both know if that was true, I'd be in there taking care of you,” Kurt yelled.

Silence for a few moments. Blayne could feel him taking shaky breathes against the door.

“Blaine, baby, please just tell me what's wrong,”

Blayne pursed her lips. “I just…” She took a deep breath. “I don't want to cut my hair,”

“What?”

She twisted her ring finger, picturing a ring on it, a black tux, a forever. She couldn't do it.

“I want to grow my hair out,”

More relief. “Is that all?”

She could do it. Right now, on this winter night, in her pink lacy dress, she could tell him. She wouldn't even have to face his disappointment. He'd just leave. Like he'd never even been there. Which he hadn't really. Not for Blayne.

She swallowed. “Yeah, I just, I know you like it short but-”

“No, no babe, it's your hair. You know I can be so self-centered, you should've spoke up sooner,”

Standing carefully, she kicked her heels out of her path. She wiped at her make-up, lifting the hem of her dress to clean her face. She stared at herself in the mirror. A quick tug and the dress was gone, thrown to the floor.

“Blaine? You still there?”

“Y-Yeah,”

“Can I come in?”

She glanced around the apartment, taking in the disaster surrounding her. She opened the door a crack, taking care to keep her nails hidden behind the door.

Kurt was on the floor, barber kit kicked to a corner of the hallway and bag thrown across his lap. He looked up eagerly, releasing his hands from where they were fisted his hair. He stood.

Blayne's eyes went wide as she took in the tear tracks on his cheeks. “I want to grow it... really long,” she confided.

“That's totally fine, Blaine,” Kurt softly said. “I'm so sorry I made you upset,” He leaned forward, cupping her cheek. “I love you for you,”

Thinking of the secret she kept so hidden, she sniffed. “Right,”

He glanced at her naked torso, blocking the entrance to the apartment. “Is everything okay in there?” he asked, making to push the door open.

“No!” she said, pushing against his attempt. “No, it's umm… Well I kind of made a mess freaking out about all this,”

Kurt laughed. “Just next time try asking me before you assume my reaction,”

She nodded. Pulling her out of the doorway slightly, Kurt captured her lips in a kiss, stroking her cheek. Breathing uneven, Blayne swayed slightly. He released her.

“I'm a mysterious guy,” Kurt mused. “I'm full of surprises,”

If only he knew, Blayne thought miserably.