(...)

“Blaine.”

You don’t want to look up at him, acknowledge that he is leaving. You don’t want to have to register the sadness, the regret. Yet you do. You look up into the blue eyes that you have always loved. You look up at them and try not to cry when you see the rush of emotions that pass through his eyes as they gaze at yours.

“I-” But you cut him off. You know what’s he’s going to say and normally you love hearing those words but now you can’t bear it.

Instead you put your lips to his and kiss him; trying to put everything you want to say but can’t in that one kiss. You pull back and whisper, “I know. Me too,” and without another word you walk away. You can’t bear to see him leave and take your heart with him.

(…)

“Blaine.”

You don’t want to look up at him, see the pity splashed in his eyes. You don’t want to see the hurt, the guilt the apology as you turn to walk out the door. Yet you do. You look up into the blue eyes that you know you will always love. You look up at them and almost cry because they are completely devoid of emotion.

“I’m-” But you cut him off. You know what he’s going to say and you don’t want to hear it.

“I know. I get that you’re sorry but maybe you should think about that next time before you cheat on me,” and without another word you walk out of the apartment you two have called home for the past three years, your suitcase trailing behind you and your heart broken.

(…)

“Blaine.”

You don’t want to look up at him. You don’t want to have to be happy for him that now he’s famous and has a fiancée. Yet you do. You look up at those eyes you still love because you always knew you wouldn’t stop loving them. You look up at them and see genuine curiosity and concern.

“Hi, It’s good to-” But you cut him off. You know you can’t talk to him without bursting into tears.

“It’s good to see you too. Congratulations on your engagement. Excuse Me,” and you walk away from him. You barely make it out of the bar before you burst into tears and start running home, the stitches holding your heart together slowly starting to unravel.

(…)

“Blaine.”

You don’t want to look up at him. You don’t want to have to look up into his eyes and acknowledge that it’s his wedding day. Yet you do. You look up at those eyes you love and see the love in them, the hope but most of all the regret.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reciting vows-” you start to talk but he cuts you off. Or rather his lips do.

One kiss and all of the feelings that have been repressed for so long burst everywhere. He pulls back and whispers, “I couldn’t do it, not since I saw you at that bar.” You don’t say anything, preferring to kiss him, your heart finally starting to mend properly.

(…)

“Blaine.”

After so long, trying not to look up at him, you do and you do it with a smile on your face.  You look up and rest your chin on his naked chest, while his finger curl their way through your hair. You look at his eyes and notice that he’s looking at you the same way he used to look at you.

“I-” But you cut him off. You know what he’s going to say and he’s said it so many times before.

You instead put a finger to his lips and whisper, “I know. Trust me, I know. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I love you, you love me and this is our wedding night. So I highly suggest, Mr Hummel-Anderson, that you shut up and kiss me.”

He laughs and moves his hands to your cheeks to pull your face closer, the cool gold of his wedding band pressing gently against your skin.

(…)