It hurts like…there aren’t really words to fish out or metaphors to use. It hurts and that’s it.

Blane sits on a bench and stares into nothing; autumn leaves rustle above his head and flutter around on the ground. They seem to whisper and he wishes they could live in some fairytale world where leaves speak and tell you what to do. Because he doesn’t have a clue.

He came to New York because he couldn’t stand the thought of waiting for the thread that linked him and Kurt to fall off, loosen by distance and longing piled too high inside of his chest. He needed to come here and try to fix it, because he couldn’t let go of Kurt without a fight. Instead he found himself singing broken words in front of strangers, feeling so small and unsure in the middle of Kurt’s new life.

It all shone so brightly, Kurt’s eyes sparkling, and he looked so happy that something inside of Blaine shattered. He knew he was supposed to be happy for Kurt, and he was, he had been the one to give Kurt the last small push he had needed, after all. But seeing it, touching it, this new happiness he wasn’t there to share and to build, hurt. And he tried to resist, he did, but it broke him.

Not as much as Kurt’s tears, though. Back when they were both studying at Dalton, back when he was still trying to figure his feelings for Kurt out, he had had one certainty- that he didn’t want to hurt Kurt, ever, because the memory of him, sitting in Dalton’s cafeteria, clutching his coffee and crying in front of a stranger, was etched bright in his heart and could never fade away.

Taking in a shaky breath, Blaine closes his eyes. New York breathes big and alive around him and Blaine has never felt more lost. The thing is he loves Kurt. It might not be the flawless love of movies and books, because his love is selfish sometimes and too needy others, because his love has been shaped by all the craving for affection that had been left unanswered before Kurt loved him back.

It is a love that sometimes stumbles and sometimes doesn’t know which direction to take, but it’s his, it’s theirs.

Against the dark backdrop of his closed eyelids he tries to imagine what it would be like to get on the plane back to Ohio knowing that he is leaving Kurt behind for good; what it would be like to wake up in the morning knowing that Kurt isn’t going to be at the other end of the phone line or on the other side of a computer screen.

He lets the tears flow freely; it chills him to the bone, the knowledge that he couldn’t live like that for the rest of his life. It doesn’t matter what people say, that things pass with time, that heartaches fade. Kurt is the love of his life, he had meant it that day in miss Pillsbury’s office and he knows he could never get over the fact that he let him slip through his fingers.

Blaine opens his eyes and the leaves rustle above his head, pale yellow in the streetlamp’s light. They whisper and something settles inside of him; he isn’t lost anymore.

*

Shifting his weight from left to right, he looks at the wooden door in front of him. He hates it, this material barrier that is so much easier to overcome than the one he has built between himself and Kurt over the past weeks. But if he has been the one to put it up, he can be the one to make it crash at their feet.

The doorbell echoes as loud as a gunshot in his ears as he waits, his heart stumbling upon itself.

Kurt looks at him, eyes wide and red, tear tracks painting his skin. So beautiful and so broken. And Blaine needs to reach out, to touch him, to fix him. His hand is trembling when it slowly encircles Kurt’s wrist. Kurt’s pulse thumps softly under his fingertips as silence stretches between them.

Blaine doesn’t want to speak, not now, because words can’t express what he feels and they would only make everything worse. He simply leans in, brushing his lips against Kurt, tasting the salt of his tears, the tenderness of his itching breath.

“B-Blaine…”

He doesn’t pull away and their lips brush when he speaks.

“I am sorry, Kurt.”

Kurt shakes his head, his ruffled hair brushing against Blaine’s forehead, like a caress.

“I am the one who is sorry, I…I did it all wrong, didn’t I?”

Blaine wishes they could not talk about this, but talking is what they do best when they are together, when they have to figure out this love that is growing up along with them. He gently pushes Kurt backwards and slides the door closed behind them. His hands find their way to Kurt’s waist, thumbs tracing patterns over his shirt.

“I did it wrong too, though, keeping everything to myself bottling it up until I didn’t know what else to do. I…I was scared you were leaving me behind.”

Kurt pulls him close and Blaine sighs into the hug, the familiar lines of Kurt’s body soothing like warm water.

“I told you I was never going to say goodbye to you.”

Blaine clutches at Kurt’s shirt, wishing they could remain like this forever, wishing he could crawl under Kurt’s skin and live in the beautiful place his heart is.

“I know…I want to fix this, Kurt.”

Kurt’s fingers are gentle as they slide through the lose hair at his nape.

“We are going to fix it, love. We always do.”

*

Blaine doesn’t know what time is it; what he knows is that he has woken up beside Kurt, legs tangled together and Kurt cuddled close to him and he has never felt more right than now. Like he is exactly where he is meant to be.

“Blaine.”

Kurt is looking at him, eyes still a bit sleepy and tousled hair.

“Yes, baby?”

Kurt’s hand is firm and warm on his chest and his heart flutters as though it is trying to break free to reach it.

“Tell me you’re going to say yes when I’ll ask you to marry me, because one day I will.”

“God, Kurt, of course I will. I have been yours since that day on the stairway at Dalton.”

Kurt smiles, one of those perfect smiles a bit shy and a lot sheer happiness, the ones that Blaine loves the most, and something overflows inside of Blaine. Again, he has no words to describe what he is feeling, but with Kurt, with this fixed thread tying them together, there’s no need for words.