Quinn was in her pajamas reading when she heard a small knock at the door.
"Come in?" Quinn laid her book down as her mom poked her head in.
"Blaine's here to see you, honey."
She raised an eyebrow, "Okay.. send him up for me?"
Her mom nodded and walked down the stairs as Quinn pulled a sweatshirt over her head. A few beats later Blaine's small figure appeared in her doorway. His eyes were wet.
"Blaine? What's wrong?" Quinn walked over, pulling him into a hug.
Blaine sniffed, leaning his head against her shoulder. "I just don't get what I'm doing wrong with Kurt. I just sat in bed thinking about his blue eyes, and pretty smile, and his voice, and how much I like him, and why doesn't he like me?" He looked up at her, looking like a child. His big, hazel eyes swam with tears.
Quinn burst into laughter at his expression, he looked at her indignantly, backing away and crossing his arms.
"Oh my God, Blaine, no, c'mere!" She hugged him again and he stood there with his arms at his side.
"You're adorable, that's all."
Blaine sniffled again, pulling away and walking over to her bed. He sat on the very edge of it. Quinn leaned across, grabbing her phone on the night stand. There was a new text from Kurt asking about practice. She typed a quick reply and then scrolled through their previous messages.
"Are you going to let me play Angry Birds on your phone?" Blaine looked at her hopefully.
"Well not right now, but look." She shoved her phone in his face and he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright glow. On it was a message from Kurt.
It read: Oh my God Quinn, you won't quit about this will you? Yes, I might have a slight crush on him. He's cute, and creative, and totally out of my league. Why would he like me?
Blaine's heart sped up and he reread it a few times.
"Quinn?"
"Hmm?"
"I have another idea."
Quinn sighed, "What's that?"
Blaine smiled, "He doesn't know why I like him, right?"
Quinn looked at him cautiously, "Right.."
"So I'll show him why I like him."
"And how are you going to do that?"
"That's where my idea comes in."

Kurt walked into school the next day, proceeding to his locker like normal. He took off his varsity jacket and slung it over his arm as he put in his combination. Inside was a folded piece of paper with his name in blocky script.
He unfolded it and it read, "Your eyes."
It wasn't signed or anything, but in the corner was a familiar phone number. He put the piece of paper in his bag and continued to grab his books. Quinn bounded up to him, hugging him tightly around his waist. He hugged her back, pulling the paper back out of his locker.
"Do you know anything about this?"
Quinn shook her head, shivering a little. "Nope. Hey, I left my jacket at home, can I borrow yours?"
Kurt reached in his locker, grabbing it and handing to her. She thanked him, pulling it on. It hung on her tiny figure, but she snuggled in it gratefully.
"No problem." Kurt headed to his class after a quick goodbye. Quinn stuck a small note with a similar phrase on it into his jacket pocket.
She started down the hallway, reaching her hand down as she passed Blaine, who slipped another folded piece of paper into her hand. They may be going to extremes, but this really was mission impossible.

Kurt trudged up to his room, his pockets filled with little slips of paper that Blaine had hid for him. In his hand was the last one, which had a white rose tied to it with red ribbon. Practice had been grueling, and every muscle in his entire body ached.
He plopped onto his bed, reading the twentieth piece of paper again.
Because you're you.
Kurt felt a smile tug on the edges of his lips, and he started to untie the rose from the paper. He put it on his dresser before changing into sweats and sitting cross-legged on his bed.
In his hands was Blaine Anderson's phone number. The same boy who had wrote a cheer for him, took the time to hide twenty pieces of paper, and who had flirted with him in front of the entire school at a pep-rally.
Maybe one phone call wouldn't hurt.
He dialed the number, but after half of a ring he hung up. His hands shook and his heart felt like it would burst in his chest.
He repeated this a few times before taking a deep breath and deciding he was being stupid.
"Just call the dumb number."
Kurt let it ring until an urgent voice on the other end answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Blaine." Kurt kept a false cool exposure, running a hand through his hair.
"Kurt! I was hoping you'd call." His voice went smooth on the other end. Kurt swallowed loudly, ignoring the nerves bubbling in his stomach.
"Thanks for the notes, and the rose."
"What ever are you talking about, Mr. Hummel?" Blaine mused.
Kurt giggled, lying back and staring around his room.
"Kurt?" Blaine sounded suddenly less confident, more timid and vulnerable.
"Hmm?"
"I really like you."
"I saw that. I really appreciated it."
"I'm glad. Is there any way I could.. you know, take you out sometime?"
Kurt stammered a bit, "I don't know, I mean-"
"Kurt, I like you, more than I care to admit. I probably give off this jerk-off impression, but I'm not. I like broadway tunes, bowties, and nice sweaters. I like dancing and singing way more than football, but I love that too. I just want to prove to you that- OW!"
Kurt heard a branch break out his window. "Blaine?" Kurt held the phone between his ear and shoulder , walking to his window. He pulled back the curtain to see what had broken the branch and Blaine stared back at Kurt's shocked expression.
"Hi."
"Blaine! What the hell?"
"I live right over there, and I've driven Quinn here before." He pointed across the street at a house, trying to balance on the branch.
"That doesn't explain why you're in my tree."
"I thought you weren't going to call, so I thought I'd try and be romantic, and serenade you or something."
"There's a difference between romance and this creep Edward Cullen shit!"
All of a sudden there was a knock at the door. "You okay in there bud?"
"Yeah dad! Just a spider." Kurt glared at Blaine, who smiled apologetically. "A really big spider."
"Alright kiddo, you tell it. Goodnight."
Kurt heard his dad's footsteps fade away and he turned to Blaine.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"One date, but pick me up at the door, not my window. Okay?"
Blaine beamed at him, "You got it." He winked at Kurt, before dropping to the ground.
"Goodnight Kurt! You won't regret it!"  He ran back to his house and Kurt just shook his head.
"After that, I think I might."

The next evening Kurt sat on his doorstep at exactly seven, as Blaine and him had agreed. He checked his watch, and as time went on and Blaine didn't show up Kurt felt embarrassment spread through him. At eight fifteen he stood, turning off the porch light and wiping his eyes. He whipped out his phone and texted Blaine.
I knew I'd regret it.