Blaine rushes up to his room, tears off his suit jacket, button-down shirt, and bowtie, and leaps backward onto his bed, laughing with excitement. His cheeks are sore as his ear-to-ear smile has now become a permanent fixture on his face, but he can't stop.

It's a physical impossibility.

He wraps his arms around himself, imagining that Kurt's arms are holding him instead. Damn this long distance relationship. After today – especially after today - they should be spending the night in bed together, fooling around and holding one another.

Blaine can't wait till he graduates and moves to New York City so he can sleep every night beside his fiancé.

Beside his fiancé Kurt.

Blaine says the word out loud, connecting it to the name to hear how wonderful it sounds.

“This is Kurt Hummel,” he says, his voice trembling with traces of his never-ending smile, “my fiancé.”

It sounds even better the hundredth time.

It had been the most exceptionally magnificent day of his entire life, and now that he's finally alone, he lies still and closes his eyes, replaying it over and over in his head.

Blaine Devon Anderson had asked the love of his life to marry him, and Kurt Elizabeth Hummel – his amazing friend, his one true love – had said yes.

He said yes.

Despite everything – the pain, the heartache, the tears, the obstacles that Blaine thought might keep them apart for good – Kurt had said yes.

After the singing and dancing had ended, and the rose petals had been swept away, he and Kurt spent an emotional afternoon catching up with their friends from McKinley and Dalton. The two of them had eaten lunch with Blaine's soon-to-be-father-in-law, and finally, after a dozen kisses, countless happy tears, and more ‘I love yous' than they'd ever spoken, Kurt boarded a plane back to New York.

Kurt would be back at his loft in a few hours, and then the two of them would Skype.

Blaine might even get cyber-lucky.

He's so elated, he considers the distinct possibility that his heart might pound right out of his chest.

On the drive back home, his heart racing, his head spinning, wondering if any of what happened had even been real, he got the brilliant idea to order some flowers and send them to Vogue for Kurt as a surprise. He rolls to his side and pulls his laptop out from underneath his bed. He was thinking a dozen -no, two dozen - flowers, but what to get?

The days of yellow and red roses are over.

He goes to his favorites and selects the bookmark for iFlowers.com. Blaine is thinking lilies, or maybe tulips? He'll have to see if they're even available this time of year. The iFlowers.com home page comes up, but before Blaine can start choosing his flowers, a pop-up window appears. A banner that covers the whole page displays in big red letters the words, “How angry is she?” with three pictures of flower arrangements, each progressively bigger than the one before.

Blaine chuckles and shakes his head. He has to admit, that's definitely an attention getter. He wonders what Harris Poll results told them that this was the season for husband's pissing off their wives. Blaine hits the X in the corner of the box and continues his search. After page three, he sighs and rubs a hand over his face, his enthusiasm almost completely gone, not only because he's at a loss as to what new flower to get for Kurt (roses had always been their thing), but that stupid pop-up window keeps showing up.

That first time, it was kind of amusing. The second time, it was annoying. But the third time, it stung.

The last time Blaine ordered flowers for Kurt on this website was after he told Kurt about cheating on him.

He'd almost forgotten.

He doesn't want to call it quits. He wants to do this for Kurt. He wants to change, to improve, to be a better man, and part of that plan is to shower his fiancé with love and attention, to show him with actions more than words that he appreciates the second chance he's been given.

Besides, he just wants to order Kurt some fucking flowers. It shouldn't be this hard.

He glances over the pop-up at the top of the screen and sees the cheery phrase We have recommendations for you!

Blaine smiles, closing the pop-up and clicking on those words. This might help. He'll enter in some keywords and something interesting should come up. He's already debating whether cut flowers are the ticket or maybe something more along the lines of a lucky bamboo when another box opens on his screen and his smile disappears.

Sending flowers to a loved one? Add a card to match the occasion! Based on your last order, we recommend:

I'm sorry.

Please, forgive me.

Let's start over.

Give me another chance.

Blaine's lips pull into a tight line and tears prick hot behind his eyes.

No matter what he chooses, iFlowers.com seems to be under the impression that Blaine screwed up.

Well, he did screw up. He screwed up big time. He hurt the one person in his life that meant the most to him, and he almost lost him.

Almost.

Blaine wouldn't have blamed Kurt if Kurt never spoke to him again, but not only did he speak to him, he forgave him. He became his friend again, he hung out with him, and in the end, here they were, engaged. Maybe Blaine didn't deserve a second chance. For the longest time, he didn't feel that he did.

But Kurt did, and now that Blaine had that second chance, he was going to do everything in his power to endeavor to deserve it.

So, fuck you, iFlowers.com, he thinks as he closes out of the browser window, opens a new one, and looks up florists with a triumphant smile on his face.

He isn't about to stick with anybody who doesn't believe in second chances. Blaine is going to be ordering flowers for his fiancé from somewhere else from now on.