Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six-hundred minutes.

Three-hundred and sixty-five days.

It’s been year, a whole one year since everything Blaine held close to his heart shattered to pieces – and it was all entirely, completely, totally his fault.

Ever since that cold, ugly, terrible night at the Battery Park, Blaine can’t remember a single one where two beautiful and teary blue-grey eyes didn’t haunt his sleep. The words he said and the ones said to him kept flashing through his dreams, like a sad and very realistic movie; in those nights, he’d wake up with sweat down his temples and chest, Kurt’s name on his lips.

Blaine tried. He tried so hard to move on, to keep going with his life. He kept going to school, he kept going to Glee club – hell, he even joined every other club he possibly could to keep himself busy. But every time he ordered his coffee (a medium-drip and a non-fat mocha, please, he said to the barista once a couple of months ago, without even realizing it), or every time Tina would mention how well Mike was doing in New York, Kurt’s dashing smile would appear right in front of him and all of his effort to be okay was gone.

Because Blaine was not okay. He was far from being okay.

Blaine was miserable.

“I ordered your coffee today by mistake. For a moment I thought I should return it, but then I decided to drink it and it tasted like your kiss. When I got home, I cried myself to sleep because I realized I didn’t remember how you taste like.”

The admission was written in the back of Blaine’s notebook, as well as tons of other feelings he couldn’t say to anyone because he couldn’t say it out loud. I miss you so much I can barely breathe, he wrote down after one of his countless nightmares. Your t-shirt doesn’t smell like you anymore, written in black ink and small handwriting. Today I won the part for the school musical and picked my phone to call you. Then I remembered.

Lots of words never spoken remained in the back of a notebook, where they were kept safe and untouched, where Blaine could pour his heart without the fear of people listening. All of the pain, the tears, that tight lump in his throat whenever those awful words replayed in his head – it was all written in sad little handwriting and tucked inside his closet.

It was in one of those nights – where Blaine woke up with a start and with tears streaming down his cheeks, notebook between his hands and a very painful feeling in his heart – that he ended up in New York City, with only his wallet and the clothes from his body, nothing more than fifty bucks in his pocket.

He wasn’t sure of what he was doing. Actually, Blaine had absolutely no fucking idea what he was doing. All he knew was that he was the most stupid person in the whole world and he needed to fix what he’d done. He thought he was doing the right thing; the noble thing, wasn’t that what people said? Wasn’t that what people did when they loved each other? Set them free so they can chase their dreams without anything holding them back?

God. He was so, so stupid.

But he would find Kurt, he would find him and do whatever it took to get him back. He would beg if he needed to, he would tell him everything that went unsaid in the past year, he would pour his heart out and, if Kurt still didn’t want him after that, he would leave.

But he definitely wasn’t giving up on the love of his live without a fight, not again. Not when he spent the last twelve months building up the courage to do exactly that: go get him back.

Blaine was standing outside of Kurt and Rachel’s apartment building, breathing heavily and trying his best not to freak out. He had tons and tons of speeches prepared in the back of his head, but none of them seemed right. None of them could explain how much he was sorry, how much he wished he could take the past year back and do everything differently. None of them could possibly make Kurt understand how badly Blaine missed him and how much Blaine still loved him, never stopped loving him.

So he forgot about the speeches and pushed the intercom button, his shaking fingers hesitating for a moment.

“Yes?” A very masculine voice greeted him, and a very confused expression took place on his features.

“Uh – is this… Sorry, I’m looking for Kurt Hummel–”

“Kurt Hummel?” The voice interrupted him.

“Yes, isn’t here where he–”

“Oh! You mean the guy who used to live here with the tiny girl? Sorry, you’re a few months late, buddy.”

“I’m– what?”

“They moved out a couple of months ago.” The stranger said, and the hand that Blaine had resting on the wall fell to his side; he suddenly felt like his heart could be ripped right out of his chest.

“Thanks,” he said, not able to form any better words.

They moved out. Kurt moved out Blaine was all alone in New York with absolutely no idea of where to find him.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, he thought about calling Rachel, but she would tell him he was crazy for trying to do what he was doing and would probably hang up on him. He could call Burt, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t a good idea. At all. And there was Quinn… He did remember how Rachel and Quinn seemed to be close during their senior year. Maybe she knew where they were living.

Picking up his phone and walking towards nowhere, Blaine searched for Quinn’s name on his contact list. He walked and walked while he waited for her to answer, running his fingers through his product-free curls, since he didn’t even think about gelling them down before he went to his car and drove to New York.

He cursed under his breath when the call went to voicemail, but he pressed the call button again and kept walking. He walked and walked, he continued calling when his calls kept going to voicemail; he even tried Santana’s number, but she didn’t answer either. After his twentieth try, he realized his legs were numb and that he’s been walking for so long that the sun was already setting behind the tall buildings. Then, he realized where he was.

His breath caught on his throat when he saw the trees, the sad pavement, and the supposed-to-be-beautiful grass. It would be beautiful, he thought, if the place didn’t hold so many bad memories. He closed his eyes, then, breathing in the nice air and feeling how it filled his lungs and expanded his chest.

A twinge of sadness washed over his heart, and he bit his lip to keep from crying.

As he kept walking down the park, the afternoon turned into twilight and he had to hug himself to stop from being cold; though something was telling him it wasn’t because of the weather.

That’s when he heard it. A low, soft humming; a slow melody he knew, coming from behind him.

You are perfect to me.

The sound made him turn around – he could recognize this voice everywhere – but when he did, he wasn’t prepared for the sight at all. Standing not so many feet away from him, was Kurt, his long legs hugged by a black skinny jeans and chest covered by a beautiful red dress shirt. It was simple, probably one of the simplest things Blaine’s ever seen Kurt wearing (outside, at least), but he looked stunning in it.

Blaine’s heart stopped and he was frozen in place, incapable of moving or of keeping his eyes off of the boy in front of him. Suddenly, he forgot about all of the speeches. He forgot about everything he’s been thinking about saying, because none of it could be enough. Instead, he remained in place, taking in the figure in front of him and trying to make his heart stop beating so hard.

When Kurt caught sight of him, though, it was the other boy’s turn to freeze. His mouth went agape, his hand came up to cover it and he took a step backwards. Blaine could feel his own heart breaking all over again with the small action.

“B- Blaine?” Kurt said under a breath that was barely audible, and his voice sounded so broken, like saying the name was a really hard effort.

Blaine walked towards him, heart stuttering and palms sweating.

“What-” Kurt paused to breathe in, “What are you doing here?”

“I…” Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat, hiding his hands on his pockets to hide his shaking fingers. “I was looking for you.”

“You-”

“I was looking for you,” Blaine interrupted before Kurt could say anything and tell him to go away and – “But you don’t live in the same apartment anymore. So I tried to call Quinn and Santana but they weren’t answering, so I just kept walking and ended up in here.”

“You were looking for me.” Kurt repeated, and it wasn’t a question, just an affirmation he didn’t seem to believe.

“Yes.”

Kurt took a step forward, then, mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t get the words out. Blaine fought the urge to reach for him and touch his jaw.

“It’s been a year, Blaine. I haven’t seen you for a whole year.”

“I know.”

“And now you’re here. Looking for me.” Kurt was saying it like he couldn’t quite believe it was happening. His expression turned slightly angry, and he bit his bottom lip like he was trying not to say what was on his mind. “What are you doing here, Blaine?”

“I’m–”

“Why didn’t you call?” His tone rose a bit, even though his voice was breaking even more. “Why didn’t you text or tried to contact me? What happened to all of those promises, Blaine?”

“I was so stupid, Kurt.” Blaine heard his own voice crack. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Setting you free; with nothing from Ohio and your old life holding you back. And I heard about how great you were doing in here, how amazing your life was getting and I thought that it really was for the best, but… God, Kurt, I was so stupid.” He raised his head to meet Kurt’s eye, feeling the knot in his heart tighten even more when he saw tears shining there. “I– I miss you, Kurt. I miss you so much it’s actuallyphysically painful to me, and I should be scared as hell for needing you so much but I’m not, because it’syou and nothing about you scares me.”

They were standing not even two palms away from each other now, so close that Blaine could see the moment a tear ran down Kurt’s cheek.

“You broke my heart.” Kurt whispered, and Blaine couldn’t help it anymore. With shaking fingers, he reached for the boy’s face and touched him with the tip of two fingers. For a moment he thought Kurt would jerk away, but instead he just closed his eyes and exhaled a shaky breath, leaning against Blaine’s touch. Blaine let out a nervous breath of his own, letting his fingers trail under Kurt’s eye, his cheekbone, until he cupped the boy’s jaw and let his thumb brush against his bottom lip.

Touching Kurt again didn’t seem real, but he didn’t take his hand away.

“I know,” he whispered, afraid his words would break the moment. “And I’m so, so sorry, Kurt. You have no idea of how much I mean it. I… I know I’ve made a huge mistake and probably screwed things up pretty badly, but I think you’d be doing a just as big one if you didn’t take me back.”

 Kurt opened his eyes then, meeting Blaine’s and sighing heavily. “Blaine…”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I should hate you.” Kurt said, but he covered Blaine’s hand with his own while he did. “I tried so hard to hate you. But I can’t.”

Blaine leaned closer, his other hand finding Kurt’s and lacing their fingers together, lips a hair’s breadth away from his. He murmured against it, “I love you so much.”

He could feel Kurt’s gasp on his cheek, and when one of his hands flew to Blaine’s neck and finally,finally pulled him close to fill the little space between them, every bit of pain and hurt in his heart washed away. Because oh God, they were kissing and Kurt’s lips were just as soft and gentle as he remembered, moving together with his in a sweet, familiar pace. Their bodies were pressed from chest to thigh; Blaine’s hands were everywhere – from Kurt’s face to his back, from his spine to his waist – and when Kurt’s mouth opened for him, so easy and natural, Blaine couldn’t help the moan he let out at the feeling of Kurt’s tongue against his.

It was everything.

“I’m sorry, Kurt, I’m so, so sorry,” he breathed between desperate kisses, his face between Kurt’s hands.

“Shhh,” Kurt moved from Blaine’s lips to his jaw, to his cheek, then back to his lips. “I love you, please,please just stay this time.”

Kurt’s words made the tears in Blaine’s eyes deepen; but it was okay to cry now, because Kurt was right there to kiss those tears away.

“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” It was barely a whisper, but the way Kurt’s eyes lit up to Blaine’s words made his stomach do that funny thing he didn’t feel for a long time.

“It isn’t a dream? I’m not going to wake up and you’ll disappear?”

Blaine’s smile was sad, but when Kurt grinned back his heart warmed and his own smile grew.

“No,” his lips brushed Kurt’s once more. “Don’t ever think like that, not anymore. I’m here.”

Kurt took their clasped hands to his face, kissing Blaine’s knuckles.

“You have to promise you won’t do it again.”

“I promise.”

“You have to mean it, Blaine. You have to promise you won’t leave again, no matter how hard it gets.” Kurt looked at him with a pleading expression on his face, eyes still shining with the tears that insisted on coming, one of his hands clutching at Blaine’s neck.

“Always. I promise. I’m not giving up on us, not anymore.” He said, and he never meant anything more.

Kurt’s smile could light up the entire city. “Always?”

“Always.”

The promise was sealed with a kiss and, in that moment, Blaine knew that driving five hours from Ohio to New York was the best decision he’s ever made. He smiled through the kiss when he felt Kurt’s little jump and his legs coming to settle around Blaine’s waist. His hands found Kurt’s thighs and he was happy to realize he could still support the boy’s weight; even if his shoulders seemed broader and his legs seemed even longer, Kurt was still the same way as he remembered – if not even more gorgeous, God, he’s so gorgeous – and they could still do this, they could still be together and kiss and cling to each other because they were allowed to. They were allowed to love and to whisper small promises of forever and to piece themselves back together.

Because even after a year, Kurt was still so clearly, completely, most definitely the love of Blaine’s life.