A deep, quivering breath and the rustling of the freshly changed sheets filled the room as Blaine turned to his other side on the bed for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Facing the bedroom window now, having a decent through-the-blinds view of the city - the one that never, ever slept did little to dissolve his insomnia. All the bright lights that were so cheerful at day now only depressed him.

New York really was always just as awake at night as any other hour of the day, and even though that guaranteed that he too was never awake alone, it wasn’t quite as comforting in reality as it was as a thought. Yes, the noises of the vehicles were considerably quieter in comparison to the daytime, when the taxi drivers would be honking at each other dozens of times in a row in one block and not care at all who might have been disturbed by this behavior. At this hour the drivers were kind enough to sort of respect other people's desires to have some rest to be able to keep up with the hectic city. But there was still so much background noise that wasn’t really the kind to fall asleep to.

Not to mention his brain was providing him with some background noises of his own, which was really the problem.

His mind wasn't shutting up or down, and it had nothing to do with the city around him.
That was the worst part.

Sleep deprivation was absolutely no new addition to the man’s vocabulary though. More often than not he would go to bed dead-tired, expecting to fall asleep immediately as if that was a thing that ever happened just to find that it truly wasn’t. It never had been. Or maybe it had, once upon a time, long before he'd ever even known what anxiety was and what living with it every day was like.

The fact that the only reason he couldn't sleep was because of his own irrational reasons for exactly why he couldn't was what bothered him the most.

He'd lived in NYC for years. It was home for him now. The city was a big one though, and in big cities many things vary and change often. Blaine admittedly didn't do well with change. He had always adjusted to it, but never liked it. He never had and was slowly starting to accept that he never would.

So if the city regularly changing up wasn't enough to screw him up emotionally, there were several changes bound to happen in his personal life as well that took part. He'd just graduated, so where he was going to be headed next was very much in the blue still. He knew now after talking to many, many showbiz people that he would be able to make it as a performer but because of his tendencies to overcompensate and worry himself out of his mind, he hadn't done anything about the whole thing yet. He'd decided the world could wait a while for his career in acting to start off. He knew his brother certainly agreed with him, telling his little brother to maybe preferably completely forget about it because his big brother was too good for him to ever bypass.

When in addition to his marriage anxiety was one of the few things that were immutable in his life, it was safe to say that it all sent him just kind of spiraling endlessly through his own mind, and that would qualify as a rational reason for why his skills of sleep were so lousy. At least for the time of being.

Blaine sighed and turned back on his back, reaching for a glass of water he knew was still standing on top of his night stand. Instead of grabbing the glass and drinking from it as he’d planned to do though, he accidentally whacked it down from the table, sending it flying to the floor.

Before he could do so much as gasp the glass was clattering against the expensive mahogany flooring of their bedroom, the water splattering on the wood as well as the carpet.

Blaine buried his face in his hands and inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut. The very first thing he could do was to wish and hope and pray that his husband wouldn’t wake up to his sleepless shenanigans.

Kurt didn’t really have trouble sleeping, ever. He could fall asleep in a minute if he was tired enough, and he’d always been more or less envious of this talent of his husband’s. Still, he was probably the lightest sleeper Blaine had ever known and considering he’d spent a good half of the first ten years of his life sharing a room with Cooper who had on several occasions claimed to have woken up in the middle of the night because Blaine was breathing too loud, it was saying something.

Blaine on the other hand, as discovered, was probably the worst sleeper in all of New York City. That was the reason for why he was awake at three in the morning, having not slept an eyeful. If that wasn't depressing enough alone, the thought of managing to wake up his husband who was well gifted with sleeping beauty genes certainly was.

Of course, to nothing but Blaine's utter devastation, the bed shifted then and cold sweat started trickling his forehead.

"Blaine?" Came the quiet, sleepy question Kurt mumbled into his pillow very incoherently.

He let out the breath he’d been holding, frowning. Had he really woken up Kurt by knocking over a godforsaken glass of water?

Blaine reached out to gently touch Kurt's shoulder, shaking his head although Kurt couldn’t see that as his eyes were still very much closed.

"Everything's alright. Don’t worry. Just sleep." He whispered, already getting up from the bed to do damage control on the flooding floor he’d caused. Blaine tossed the covers aside to throw his feet over the side of the bed and stepped on the floor and absolutely not to his surprise, on a patch the water had already managed to flood. Scrunching up his nose at the feeling of lukewarm water in between his toes, he wiped his feet on a shirt on the floor and thanked heavens when he noticed that it wasn’t one of Kurt’s. He nothing but dragged his feet on with him to the linen closet, choosing one of the less luxurious towels they owned to throw on the floor. He went back into the bedroom clutching the green towel so tight against his chest that his knuckles were turning white and then finally threw it on the floor, getting back in bed as fast as he could.

When he did, Kurt was propped up on his elbows, a worried expression clearly visible on his face even in the dark room. "You're still awake? What's going on, is everything okay?"

Blaine shook his head again, only to be stopped by his husband cupping and steadying his face with his warm hands.

"You're having trouble sleeping again" He stated quietly as the realization hit him through the haze of sleep. "I'm so sorry.” The gentle stroke of Kurt’s thumb along Blaine’s cheekbone gave him a chance to take a deep breath and lean into the touch more. ”Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Well, actually, I did” Blaine chuckled humorlessly, not taking his eyes off of Kurt and cocking his head towards the towel that was slowly soaking up the water on the floor. “You're not the one that's supposed to be feeling bad now, anyway. It's me. I decided that the water looked much better on our wooden bedroom floor that we spent a good month choosing than the glass it was in" He shook his head and looked down at his tangled hands, Kurt’s hands still steady on the sides of his face. “I really didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Kurt’s heart ached at the sight of Blaine – he looked so utterly defeated, all of his tired features clear as day in the dark of the night. His stunning, long lashes were fanned on his cheeks, casting even deeper shadows above the dark circles under his honey-caramel eyes. His hair looked like he’d ran his trembling fingers through it a thousand times, and Kurt not for one second doubted that that was exactly the case. The rise and fall of his chest was slow and uneven and just the thought of his husband having to spend hours and hours alone like that was painful. The absolute last thing on his mind was to be worried for his own beauty sleep.

“I hate it when you’re anxious” Kurt whispered sadly, tilting Blaine’s chin up ever so slightly with his fingers.

Blaine weakly raised his brows at him and was just about to open his mouth to say something when Kurt realized how his words had come across. “I don’t hate you when you’re anxious, Blaine. God no. I just really hate your anxiety. So much.”

“Oh” Blaine exhaled, nodding. Kurt shuffled closer to him so that their knees were merely pressing together and tilted his head a little, trying to recall the lengthy conversation he was sure they had had about this in the past.

“Your parents said that to you back then, didn’t they?” He finally asked, every intention to make Blaine feel less awful. Talking about his parents surely wasn’t the way, but he needed to know. "In a completely different context."

Blaine just shrugged powerlessly, taking another deep breath in attempt to get his breathing to even out.

“Yeah. When my parents first really noticed my anxiety they threw all kinds of crap on me for it. They started with telling me that I was making it all up to avoid certain things in life. When I was diagnosed, they told me that I was using the diagnosis, feeling entitled to acting a certain way because of me having anxiety was 'official'. They had convinced themselves that nothing was actually wrong with me at all, because the Andersons were perfect and as an Anderson - so was I.”

“I then proceeded to tell myself the same, although I knew that it was bullshit. That’s why I don’t love it when people tell me that they disagree with what I have, that they don’t like it. Because, well-“

“As if you love feeling the way that you do" Kurt breathed out, tears slowly but surely starting to blur his vision. "How could anyone ever say that to someone? To your own child? I know that your parents were what they were but I didn’t know that they were so heartless.” Kurt exclaimed breathlessly, his eyes shining with unshed tears in the weak glow of the moon and street lights streaming through the blinds.

“No, god. Kurt” Blaine shook his head quickly as much as he could with Kurt’s hands holding his head still, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist and gently squeezing his sides. “Please don’t cry” He practically pleaded, voice cracking, because that was the last thing he needed. The absolute last.

“And they are not bad people, Kurt” Blaine said more quietly, intent on convincing him this though he wasn’t sure that he himself was fully convinced that his parents were decent human beings. "They just didn't understand."

“Understands the struggle or not, no good person tells their child with mental health issues that their troubles are not real. Neither does a good person tell their child that things would be easier for them without their kid’s problem” Kurt ran his fingers softly through Blaine’s flattened, sweaty curls before placing his hands back on his cheeks. “You know none of that is true, right?”

Long, quiet moment.

“It is, though, isn't it?”

This was the question Blaine had kept himself from uttering out loud since the day the two of them had started dating and Kurt had gotten to know Blaine and all that lied behind his personality better – including all of his past and present mental health wobbles.

Blaine had felt more at ease talking about those things with Kurt than he’d ever been with any therapist he’d met and the only thing Kurt had said to him that nothing he’d say would make him care about him any less. He’d told him that it didn’t change anything. Being understood in that way was such a surreal experience to him he hadn't quite been able to process it - hence, not question it that much.

As their relationship evolved, instead of hearing about how horrible Blaine’s occasional anxiety attacks could be Kurt came to first-hand seeing and eventually experiencing them with him. He was always without exception right by his side, telling him to breathe and to breathe, convincing him that everything was going to be alright.

Blaine had felt like the most horrible burden for Kurt then, sure that he was going to get enough of him any time because of how difficult he was and although Kurt told him that he would never do that, he didn’t feel any more at ease. This was when he processed what Kurt had told him in the beginning. He wholeheartedly wanted to believe him, but taken just how much time Blaine's anxiety took away from Kurt's life it was hard. Incredibly so.

After five years of being together Blaine could be almost certain that Kurt was there for him for good. They were soulmates, tied to each other with much more than just the physical representation of their vows to each other. Kurt had chosen to spend and share his life with Blaine. That meant the good and the bad, and Kurt had told him many times it was the best thing that'd ever happened to him - the best choice he'd made. Blaine felt the same way.

But still, now revisiting this topic after the longest time, Blaine couldn’t help himself. All his insecurities, as irrational as they were, came crashing back. Because after all if it wasn’t for his anxiety they wouldn’t have been there, awake in the middle of the night, both on the verge of tears although just one of them was the one with monsters in their head.

They wouldn’t have needed to compromise on their wedding because Blaine got uncomfortable around too many people, either, and Kurt wouldn’t have had to - on several occasions, take time off of work and detach from his crazy hectic schedule just to spend time with him when he couldn’t be by himself.

When Blaine’s question finally dawned to Kurt, he inhaled sharply before capturing his lower lip in between his teeth, eyes sad and desperate on Blaine’s, reflecting emotions not too different from his husband’s.

“No.”

“Really? Because not only would you not be dead-tired tomorrow at rehearsal if I wasn’t bothering you with my anxiety boosted insomnia, I’m pretty sure you would get quite a few hours of your life back ” Blaine was too far in now to escape. At this point it was just him desperately needing to apologize to Kurt for everything he would’ve known he didn’t need to apologize for if he was thinking rationally. But he wasn’t. “Please don’t, Kurt. We both know that many, many things would be a lot easier for us if I didn’t experience the kind of anxiety that I do. And I’m sorry. I really, really am.”

“You know” Kurt started, swallowing what might as well have been sand. He dropped his right hand from Blaine’s face to the side of his neck, not looking away from his liquid-honey eyes. “The first time I met you, I thought that you were perfect. I thought that you were completely flawless and I instantly loved you. Then I got to know you, and I realized you were actually not perfect – and I loved you even more. And that has not changed. It's never even faltered. Never for once has there been a reason for it to. I have loved you for all this time, with all of myself. All of you. Not just the parts that you choose to showcase to the outer world. Even those things that you hide away and hate and the ones that make you feel like you’re nothing and even the anxiety that you feel that drains you and disables you from doing some things sometimes. I love all of that, because you are the person you are today because of all that." "Anxiety disorders are horrible and I hate that you have to deal with one, Blaine, but it doesn’t make me love you any less" Kurt just went on, needing to say everything he was thinking to make Blaine feel better, whilst the man was growing more teary-eyed by the second. "Every couple has their struggles. I know this is yours, but because I love you, it's also mine. Of course, it limits you, but me? You don't ever need to feel like you're a burden of some kind to me. Every second I've ever spent with you I wouldn't trade away. No matter what we were doing, whether it was singing together or me holding you through a panic attack on the living room floor.”

A tear ran down Blaine’s cheek but Kurt didn’t get the chance to do anything about it before Blaine was leaning towards him, arms wrapping tight around him and his forehead coming to rest against his, more of them streaming down his face.

-

After a good twenty minutes of the two of them just sitting there in the silence of their bedroom, holding onto each other, they situated themselves on the bed to try and sleep - together. They were both lying on their sides, Kurt holding Blaine tight against the full length of his body, hands splayed wide on Blaine's chest and stomach. Blaine's breath was evening out as he was finding tremendous comfort in the familiar beat of Kurt's heart and the steady rise and fall of his chest against his back. Blaine held Kurt's hands with both of his, wondering why he had let his insecurities and fears from the past get to him and deny this from himself from the start. Sure, he knew- but anxiety was not going to be getting any more recognition from him for the night.

"I really do love you so much, you know that" Kurt whispered after a while, pressing a light kiss on the back of Blaine's head. "And I could not be happier to be the person in your life who can make you feel a little less crowded in this world. Who can help you calm down. Remind you to breathe. Make you believe that you'll be fine."

There was a long pause, just the sound of them breathing in sync filling up the room, before Blaine spoke. "I know I'll be. Because of you. It's all you."

Though the awkward angle, Blaine shifted enough to meet his husband's lips in a swift though utterly grateful kiss.