Well, hello. First of all, I changed this fic from my old OTP to Klaine. I'm sorry, okay? Especially for any slip ups.
Second. HERE ARE THE WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC. First, there's incest between two brothers that aren't of blood relations. If that's still classed as incest but whatever. There's mentions of alcohol and drug abuse. Then there's mentions of physical abuse toward a child and sexual abuse toward a child. There is also crappy smut (between two underage kids, saying that. Well, not in my country but whatever) and underage drinking. There's lots and lots angst because I love angst. It's completely AU, alright.
And it's Kurt's family that is crappy in this, not Blaine's. Because it's AU and I can do whatever I want ;)
Oh and I have a Tumblr, there's a link on my profile if anyone's interested yaaaaaay.
Okay, enjoy, and drop me a review on your thoughts!
Shooting stars, eyelashes & 11:11
Life had always been hard for Kurt.
The Anderson family remember the first time that they met Kurt. At the Children's Home. He looked permanently tired, dark circles under his eyes, his cheekbones clear, skin a sickly grey colour, hair hanging limply around his face. His big glasz eyes didn't sparkle like a child's eyes should sparkle. They were dull, they were lifeless. Empty. He looked haunted.
Kurt came from a violent home. His father an abusive alcoholic, step-mother a drug abuser. Every night, his father would come home drunk, reeking of booze and fags, lipstick trails down his neck and on his collar. He would be at the pub from the morning until closing time, drinking and drinking and drinking. Arguments would erupt, Kurt's step-mother would be left bloody and bruised on the kitchen floor, and if Kurt tried to help her at all, it would be his turn for a beating. It happened often. Under his shirt, his body was a nasty shade of purple, tinged with yellows and greens and blues and reds.
Several times, Kurt ended up in hospital. "He tripped down the stairs… he fell out of a tree… he slipped over in the bathroom… he's a clumsy little child, bless him…" Lies, all lies. Disgusting lies that slipped off the tongue easily because they were so used to lying. They were used to covering up how Kurt got his bruises and cuts and broken bones. No one noticed his broken heart.
But then they started neglecting him. He was left for days in his room without food and water. The room was cold and damp and dark, they couldn't afford paying for the heating or electricity as all the money was used to fuel their addictions… That didn't matter to them when the drugs were pumping through the bloody rivers of their veins, twisting their bitter insides to something nastier and more vile.
There was always noise, there were always people coming and going. Kurt would be dragged down from his room late at night to entertain the crowds of strangers. This wasn't harmless entertainment… this was sick, twisted, cruel. This was something that a child should never have to go through. And at the end of the night, as Kurt ran back to his room to cry and hide away, he felt dirty, he didn't understand what was happening. All he understood was that he wanted to get away from here… far away. He wished on shooting stars, eyelashes & 11:11.
He just wished and wished and wished. There was no harm in wishing, right?
One day, his prayers were answered. Police stormed the house, searching for drugs and such. Riot gear. Guns blazing. Shouting. Banging. Kurt hid under his bed in fear, hands held tight over his ears. It never ended, the noise never ended, running through his mind, pushing towards insanity, ringing, ringing, ringing... Suddenly, the door in his bedroom flew open, a beam of light from a torch making a circle on the floor. A pair of footsteps stopped in front of him and a face appeared, shining the torch in Kurt's face. The officer clearly did not expect to see a young boy's scared face peering back at him.
"Oh my God…"
Hands reached out for Kurt, pulling him out from under the bed. He was filthy, unwashed, his long chestnut hair matted, and as the hands wrapped around him, pulling Kurt into a comforting hug that he had never received once in his life, you would have thought that he had been saved.
But he was not out of the woods yet.
No one really knew what happened to Kurt. He never spoke. He didn't interact with the other children in the home. He didn't interact with the carers, he didn't interact with the doctors. They said he was uncooperative but he didn't know how to open up. All alone in his dark little world he stayed. Kurt wanted someone to love him, really truly love him. Wishful thinking. He was worthless. No one wanted him. He deserved the years of pain and sexual abuse. Who would want him?
The Anderson family wanted him.
When William & Maria were told that they couldn't have any more children due to health reasons, they turned to adoption. They already had a little boy called Blaine, but he wanted a brother to play football with in the gardens in the summer, to play video games with on the rainy days, to be best friends with, to love, adore and cherish memories with.
That was when they met Kurt.
"He's a special case… a broken little boy… won't talk to any of us here… we don't really know what has happened to him… the reports don't tell us much."
The carers' eyes always lingered over him longer than necessary, doubtful. They were wasting their time. They usually recommended other children to the people who visited, never mentioning Kurt. Lost cause, they said. He'll never get better, they said. But Blaine took an interest to the boy in the corner. He was different, odd. And that made Blaine all the more desperate to know him.
And after that first meeting, the shine came back.
Kurt and Blaine had a close relationship. They played for hours, laughed and shared jokes together, adventured through the forest at the end of the garden. Blaine comforted Kurt when he awoke screaming from the nightmares and held him until the crying ceased and he fell asleep once again.
It was one of those nights again. Kurt screaming, jolting awake in a cold sweat, hands shaking, eyes glazed. Blaine casually climbed out of bed, kicking the covers aside calmly and slowly approaching the writhing figure tangled in the sheets in the other bed. He knew not to make sudden movements when Kurt awoke from one of his nightmares; the fast movements freaked him out more than usual when he was in that state. Pulling him into his arms like a baby, Blaine carried Kurt back to his own bed, snuggling up under the sweatfree sheets, propped up against the headboard. Sometimes they didn't speak, just clung to one another until the need of sleep grew heavier and their eyelids began to droop.
But tonight, Kurt broke the silence.
"Blaine?" he murmured softly, unsure whether the older boy was still awake or not. He could feel the steady thud of Blaine's heart against his ear. Theraputic.
"Mmmm?" the boy finally mumbled in reply, wide awake. He always made sure Kurt fell asleep first. Didn't want to leave him alone in the dark.
"Pl-please don't let me go." Kurt's words came out a stutter, a nervous habit which he had adopted. He felt safe in Blaine's arms and he was always scared that one day he was going to let go.
Blaine's hands ran through Kurt's hair which was longer from when he first met him. The Children's home had cut it short and Blaine loved it this length. He loved running his hands through it, absent mindedly twirling it around his fingers when they watched movies together... nestling his face into it on nights like this. "I'll never let you go. I promise."
With this... Blaine leant forward, pressing his lips softly to Kurt's. It was brief. Gentle. Probably innocent... but neither of them slept for the rest of the night, confused thoughts swirling through their minds, Kurt's ear still pressed against Blaine's heart.
"Blaine, what are we doing?"
They were getting ready for a meal out with William & Maria to celebrate Blaine's birthday, black bow tie affair. It had been a couple of years since the first kiss and many followed after that. Sneaky pecks before bed and sometimes a little more, feelings and hormones getting a bit out of control. There were on the brink of their teenage years now, after all.
"We're getting ready to celebrate my birthday, I don't know about you," he chuckled, flashing a cheeky grin, fingers nimbly tying the bow around his neck. That grin always made Kurt's heart acheand gave him the urge to brush his fingertips along Blaine's very welcoming cheekbones.
"Oh ha, ha," Kurt's voice dripping with sarcasm. "That wasn't what I meant, idiot." He struggled to do up the buttons of his shirt, hands still shaking from Blaine's smile which could break a roomful of hearts with one flash. He huffed, giving up, dropping his hands by his sides.
"Well, what did you mean?" Blaine murmured, eyes boring into his brother's as he approached, gently running his hands down Kurt's exposed sides, stroking his protruding ribs before smoothly buttoning up his white shirt.
A moan escaped from Kurt's lips, although Blaine was unsure if it was from exasperation or from the feel of his warm hands on his bare skin. "You know... this. We're meant to be brothers. Do other brothers do this?"
Pulling him closer by his hips, Blaine leant in resting his cheek against Kurt's jaw. He breathed out slowly, tickling Kurt's neck and making him shudder softly. "Of course other brothers do this... I think. I don't see that there's anything wrong with it. Our love is just stronger than other people's." He pulled back to flash the smile before grabbing Kurt's own bow tie and delicately tying it around his neck, hands lingering longer than necessary upon his skin. He stroked the contours gently before pressing his lips to the hollow at the base. "A lot stronger."
"A lot. Now come on, before Mom and Dad come investigating to find out where we've got to," Kurt smiled in return, sliding a hand down Blaine's arm to hold his hand at the bottom. He leant in to press a gentle kiss to Blaine's lips, who pressed furiously back, craving Kurt's taste on his tongue. But Kurt pushed him away, left hand pressed against his chest. "Later, okay?"
The rest of the night passed by uneventfully before they fell into bed later on, just gently kissing through the night. And as Blaine slumbered with his head resting against Kurt's heart, he counted the stars through the bedroom window and wished on the single shooting star that shot through the velvet sky that he could believe that other brothers spent nights like this on a daily basis.
Kurt's hands shook angrily as his eyes skimmed over his Facebook feed, the tell-tale wall posts springing tears into his eyes. Logging out, he tapped in Blaine's account details, mouse hovering uncertainly over the 'Login' button before giving in and tapping the mouse, immediately checking Blaine's inbox. And what he read made him sickto the stomach. Message after message of endless flirting. Love-yous, kisses and hearts on the ends. What had this been to him? Had it all been a fucking joke? He was the one who had pushed it in the first place, started the ball rolling. And now it was someone else's lips that pressed against his, not Kurt's. He hadn't known, hadn't seen the signs. He felt so. fucking. stupid.
The laptop was closed on the floor by the time Blaine returned late at night from the party. Blaine was more popular, he wasn't going to deny it, and got invited out a lot more than Kurt did. Not that he had minded before this. A long night with a good book, his iPod and a copy of Vogue sounded perfect to him. But now, Kurt wished he had gone to these parties just to keep an eye on his brother. What a fool. He kept his back turned to Blaine as he crept in, trying to ignore him as Blaine slipped into his bed behind him, snaking his hands around his waist. Kurt stiffened as his brother's hands attempted to sneak beneath the elasticated waist band of his pyjama bottoms. He only just noticed the stench of alcohol swirling around the room. Underage drinking at it's best.
"Piss off, Blaine," Kurt growled angrily, slapping the fumbling hands away and shuffling away from Blaine as far as he could, pressing himself his back against the wall. Blaine just followed fervently, not giving up that easily.
"Please Kurtsy, baby. A boy has neeeeeeds," he whined in return, words slurring slightly, eyes looking at Kurt out of focus. "We're sixteen now, we can do shit like this." He fumbled for Kurt's pyjama bottoms again, tugging them down at the front, exposing him. Blaine had never managed to get him an eyeful like this before and the blood rushed straight down to his crotch. Fuck.
"Being sixteen doesn't make us legal," Kurt spat, anger flashing dangerously behind his eyes. Of course, Blaine was well past the point of being sober and didn't notice any warning in his tone or anything.
"It does if you live in England..."
"We don't fucking live in England, Blaine, now let go and let me go to sleep." But Blaine was too busy tugging at his own jeans zipper, unable to yank it down far enough due to the bulge at the front. He wasn't listening nor paying attention to Kurt, he just wanted to experience what all of the other kids were talking about at the party that night. Kurt never let them do stuff like this. Too far. Crossing the line. But Blaine neededit now. Of course, it wouldn't be the same as what the other kids were saying. They didn't do it with their siblings, let alone with someone of their own gender but he'd read enough about it online to know about gay sex. They'd gone past the point where they had figured out that, shit, making out with your brother wasn't right, even if you weren't blood related. But they were also beyond the point of caring.
"Blaine, please we shouldn't do this..."
Then all of their clothes were on the floor beside the bed and they were kissing furiously, clutching at eachother as if they're lives depended on it. Kurt tore at Blaine's back, nails digging in as the bottle of lubricant was produced from the top drawer of their bedside cabinet, along with a condom. By the looks of it, Blaine had been stocking up in hope of this happening in a long time but it couldn't bother Kurt at that moment, he was too busy trying to mask the moans that rose in his throat as Blaine worked two lube coated fingers inside of him. This wasn't something they wanted their parents to overhear. Kurt didn't need much prepping due to his awful childhood of sick sexual abuse. As Blaine expert-edly rolled the condom over his erection and coated it with the lubricant, he flipped Kurt over onto his stomach, pushing into him slowly. He could feel Kurt wince and tighten around him, clearly not liking the sensation at first, nearly pushing him over the edge just like that. As he slowly pulled out then pushed back in, Kurt let out a low moan, which Blaine was sure their parents had heard, earning a hand to the back of Kurt's neck and pushing his face into the pillow, quitening the moans as Blaine built up a rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. Harder. Faster. Stronger. One hand tangled in Kurt's hair, tight at the scalp, grip growing tighter as they groaned together, closer and closer. Slipping a hand underneath him, Blaine stroked Kurt quickly, pushing him closer and causing Kurt to come over Blaine's hand, his own stomach and bedsheets, shaking and moaning pitifully with his face still pressed into the pillow. And Blaine quickly followed suit, filling up the condom and filling up Kurt with warmth.
As Blaine went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Kurt pulled back on his loose pyjama bottoms, curling up in Blaine's bed to avoid his own stained, sticky sheets. He pulled the duvet tight around him, still feeling the adrenaline pumping through his body but also feeling overwhelmed from all of the emotions inside. He felt exhilarated. He felt excited. He felt happy. He felt... alone. Afraid. Sick. Worried. He hadn't brought up the messages and he wasn't sure if he wanted to now... he hadn't brought up the lipstick he'd spotted on the corner of Blaine's lips or the strong scent of female perfume lingering on his skin that mingled with the alcoholic stench. He curled onto his side, looking at the clock. 11:11. And once again, he found himself wishing. But this time, he wished that he could could get through all of this without his heart being broken at least once. And he was pretty sure that that wish was not possible.
And not only did he cry that night for Blaine, but for himself, that familiar pain once again and for the memories of his childhood that plagued his mind.
Kurt's hands fumbled with the bow tie, a pair of different hands snaking around from the back of his neck to slap his own away, tying it up with ease. The other boy's reflection in the mirror in front of him made his heart thud heavily, the chest of his white shirt fluttering. Blaine could feel Kurt's pulse where his hand still rested on his neck and grinned.
"You never have been very good at tying bows, have you?" he smirked, stroking down Kurt's collar and smoothing out any creases on his shoulders and back. Blaine leant forward and pressed a soft kiss just below Kurt's ear, whispering gently. "You look so beautiful tonight. As ever. I'm so glad you're my date."
Kurt closed his eyes in pain, his thudding heart stopping painfully for one split second before spluttering back into life. He pushed Blaine's arms away from his neck and turned around, leaning against the mirror with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "But you're not my date are you? Not really. We can't dance together, walk hand in hand, anything, like all the other couples'll be doing at prom... it's going to fucking suck tonight. Dancing with you was the one thing I was looking forward to tonight and it's not going to fucking happen!"
Stepping forward, Blaine pulled Kurt's hands away from his face, gently touching and stroking his cheeks, tracing his cheekbones and jawline. Looking deeply into Kurt's eyes, Blaine leant in and kissed his lips, hard, slipping them open with his tongue. A groan escaped from the younger boy, Blaine's lips pressing harder against his to stifle the sound. His hands slipped down Kurt's side, stroking his hips before grabbing his thighs and forcing them apart, before lifting his feet off the ground. Kurt wrapped his legs tight around his boyfriend's waist, arms slipping around his neck. Their lips grew more hurried, anxious, as for that night, they wouldn't be able to make out under the twinkling lights of their school's hall, twirling through the dancefloor with the other couples. Then suddenly, Blaine's lips were gone, his cheek pressed against Kurt's with his eyes closed. He set Kurt back to his feet and slipped a hand over his eyes.
"Don't look. Promise me you won't." Kurt nodded quickly and covered his eyes with his own hands once Blaine's slipped away. He could hear clattering, Blaine obviously searching for something. The sound of a plug being pushed in the mains, the sound of a plastic case opening and the sound of the lid of the CD player in the corner shutting... then the most beautiful sound floated out from the speakers. It was soft, gentle, like a lullaby, a peaceful tune that forced away all of Kurt's worries, drifting through the room and encasing Blaine and Kurt in their own little bubble. Kurt began to remove his hands from his eyes, but freezing quickly with a cough from Blaine. Kurt felt a hand slipping under one of his own, pulling it away from his face. With his eyes still squeezed shut, Kurt felt something slip onto his wrist and looking down, saw the most lovely bracelet wrapped around his bony wrist. Tears springing into his eyes, he looked up at Blaine, the most radiant smiling filling his face.
"Oh wow, Blaine. I love it, thank you so much!" Kurt croaked, throat filled with a lump he had never experienced before. Some of the feelings he felt even now felt so new... so fresh.
"You're welcome, baby," Blaine smiled, drawing circles on the back of Kurt's hand with his thumb. "I was going to give you it after prom but y'know, now felt perfect." Blaine moved closer towards him, moving Kurt's free hand to rest on his upper arm whilst he wrapped his around Kurt's back, snaking up towards his neck to nestle in his hair. He started swaying to the music, forcing Kurt to do the same. "If we can't slow dance at prom... we'll do it now."
Kurt's tears begun to flow freely down his cheeks, dipping slightly to rest his head against Blaine's chest, listening to the heart that belonged to him. "This is perfect, Blaine. Thank you."
Sighing happily, Blaine stroked the back of Kurt's hair, pressing his lips to the top of his head and still swaying to the soft lullaby. "I know, baby. I know..."
Luckily for Kurt later that night, he didn't spot Blaine sneaking off into the toilets with a girl in tow, the grin that he usually saved for Kurt fixed upon his face. And it wasn't until bedtime, when he was gently tracing the curve of his brother's spine with a single fingertip, the guilt finally kicked in.
What Kurt doesn't know can't hurt him.
They were running through the woods at the bottom of the garden. Darting between the trees. Hand in hand. The darkness beckoning them. The night time didn't judge their relationship. Other people would have if they had known. Daddy William and Mommy Maria still hadn't figured it out yet, although they did keep bugging them over the fact that they were both 'single'. "All of your friends are leaving home and marrying... you're both still here!"
They didn't need to leave home when the one that they loved lived there too.
They paused to make out pressed up against a tree, Blaine's hands either side of Kurt's head, pressing against the bark. Breaking away, Blaine pushed up onto his toes and leant his forehead against his brother's (his boyfriend's), breathing heavily, the heat of his breath causing Kurt to close his eyes blissfully. He cherished moments like this, when they could spend hours in the dark together, just feeling, just loving, just being. Sometimes they were tainted with real darkness though. Kurt knew what happened on those nights that Blaine stayed out late. But his lips always remained shut.
Blaine's lips pushed against Kurt's again, hard and cold. "I love you, Kurt. God, I love you, I love you," he panted, pressing kisses against Kurt's jaw and throat, running his cold nose down his neck. Blaine's hands pushed slowly up Kurt's tight shirt, gently thumbing his ribs like all those years ago.
Kurt smirked down at Blaine, he lovedthe way he stroked his ribs. Pushing Blaine, Kurt pulled down the neck of his shirt, latching his teeth and lips over his exposed collarbones. He bit down hard, sucking and flicking his tongue across the skin, moaning very softly and very gently. Letting go, Kurt moved back to admire the purple, reddish mark he left on the skin, bold and proud. Nudging the other side of the t-shirt neck aside, Kurt leant down again to latch his teeth onto the other bone... but froze. Bringing a hand up to prod the yellowing bruise, the feeling of sickness rose up Kurt's stomach and throat, thousands of thoughts running through his mind in one go.
"What is that, Blaine? What the fuck is that?" he voice rose angrily and shook slightly on some of the syllables, managing to keep his voice stutter-free at least.
Blaine laughed. An edgy laugh. And it rung through the trees and through Kurt's ears, the sound making the vomit rise further up Kurt's throat. Pushing his hands away, Blaine tried to cover the bite mark back up, voice with a certain edge to it. "It's a love bite, Kurt... you done it."
"No, I fucking didn't! I done this and this and those!" Kurt roared, yanking up Blaine's shirt and pushing down the waistband of his jeans to indicate the bites on his hips, ribs and nipple. "I knew it, Blaine. I fucking knew it. You're messing me around and making me look like a fool!" He shoved Blaine backwards and stormed through the trees, angry tears welling up in his eyes. "Fuck you, Blaine."
Blaine stumbled through the forest after Kurt, tripping often, yelling apologies and explanations, begging for him to listen. Kurt feigned deafness, he was sick of being made a mug, as if it were tattooed across his forehead. And when he felt Blaine's hand successful twist around his wrist, he spun, slapping a big red hand mark right onto Blaine's cheek.
It felt as if time had frozen. They both stood staring at one another, shocked, Kurt's hand still held away from his body, as if it was the criminal, as if it had swung and slapped Blaine on it's own accord.
Then everything fast forwarded, Blaine storming away, Kurt the one left begging for forgiveness frozen to the spot until the darkness devoured Blaine whole, swallowing him from sight. Leaving Kurt all alone, with nothing but one of Blaine's tear soaked eyelashes stuck to the palm of his hand...
The make up sex was rough and rather violent that night.
"Kurt, what are we doing?"
Déjà vu. Many years had passed since that night in the woods... and a lot had changed. No one knew how Kurt was still breathing and how his heart hadn't completely shattered under the pressure.
Yet, like many years before, there he was Kurt, fumbling with the bow tie with shaking hands. A little lost boy once again.
"Getting ready to go back downstairs before your new bride realises you're missing, that's what we're fucking doing," Kurt huffed, managing to tug his tie on and completely refusing Blain's help. Over those painful years, Blaine had upped and left the family home, found a nice, lovely girl to marry and here they were, shut inside Blaine's luscious hotel suite where they'd just had frantic, furious sex on the king sized bed... Where later on, Blaine would be entertaining his new wife. Kurt should've known that one day he wouldn't be wearing a wedding ring on his finger that Blaine had slipped on. Their relationship had been fucking incest. But Kurt liked making himself believe that it would happen. He couldn't bring himself to face the disappointment.
Kurt always ended up disappointed.
"You knew what I meant. We're over, so why do we still feel the need to fuck like rabbits whenever we get the chance?" Blaine snapped back, slipping the carnation back through his button hole and de-crazying his hair in the mirror before smoothing back down the bedsheets.
"Because your new wife doesn't satisfy you the way I do? Because you're clearly gay as you enjoy the feel of your dick up someone's ass too much, yet you still deny it? Because you're still in fucking love with yourbrother?" he hissed back, hands clenched into fists angrily. "Why did you even what me as your best man, Blaine? To rub it in my face? To get me to lie and say what a perfect big brother you are in my best man speech? 'Oh gee, what can I say about Blaine Anderson? He was such an amazing brother to me when I was introduced to the family... he used to cuddle me to sleep when I had nightmares and helped me when I was crying when my bad childhood plagued my mind... did I mention that he fucked me senseless when we were sixteen years old in my own bed when he came back drunk from a party with another girl's lipstick still stuck to his lips? Did I also mention he sneaked off with a different girl at prom when he was my date!' Yes Blaine, I fucking heard about that!'I also found love bites on his body where someone else's teeth had been on his skin instead of mine and when he had enough, he fucking ditched me for some girl just to prove to himself that he wasn't gay nor that he was in love with his brother. What a perfect big brother I fucking had!'" The words tumbled out faster and faster, the rant growing angrier and angrier. Kurt had gotten past the point of feeling the urge to cry whenever he got angry these days, however, his fists still hadn't unclenched and the urge to hit his once boyfriend in the face was rather overpowering.
The red flush rose up Blaine's neck, his features contorting through anger, transforming before Kurt's eyes. A hand flinging towards the younger man's throat, Blaine smashed him into the wardrobe, teeth gritted, close to Kurt's ear. "Don't you fucking ruin this for me. I love her. She's my life now, not you. Now get over your fucking jealousy and grow the fuck up. She satisfies me, I'm notgay and I don't. fucking. love. my. brother!" He spat out the words, Kurt flinching from fear with every syllable. "You're the one who crawls into my bed and fucking bends over without having to be asked twice."
"It's because I love you," Kurt muttered lowly, glaring hatefully down into Blaine's face. "Because I still fucking love you, Blaine, and I can't let go. You helped me out of the darkness and what have you done? Pushed me right back in. Back to square fucking one, Blaine." The sobs rose in his throat and clutched at the hands that were still tight around it, trying to prise Blaine's hands off so he could hold one tightly. "Tell me you love me, Blaine. I know you still do. Please. I thought you wanted me. You were the one who made the first move all those years ago, just don't do this..."
Blaine's eyes were still. Stoney. Unreadable. Reaching up, he pressed a single kiss to the corner of Kurt's soft, pale lips. "I lovedyou, Kurtsy. And I still do." He pushed Kurt's hair away from his forehead, hands lingering in his hair. "But only as a brother." Smoothing down Kurt's collar, Blaine smiled sadly, the first sign of being a little bit broken beneath the surface. "C'mon, before they notice we're missing. The speeches'll be soon..." Stepping away towards the door, he paused with his hand on the knob without turning back. "You can say those things if you want in your speech... I guess it's the least I deserve. Come down when you're ready."
He swung open the door, stepped out and gently closed it behind him with a soft click. Leaving Kurt alone in this beautiful hotel room which now just reeked of sex and broken promises. Walking around the room in a daze, Kurt paused in front of the mirror, tears streaming down his face. Stepping closer to his reflection, he gripped a single eyelash and pulled it from it's base, the pain barely noticeable due to the sharp stabbing where his heart should have been. Scrawling a quick note on the hotel stationary, Kurt slipped off the bracelet on his wrist. The bracelet he had worn every day since prom. Even when Blaine broke his heart and pushed him aside. He laid the single eyelash underneath the swirly handwriting and placed the bracelet on the pillow he knew Blaine would be sleeping on later that night. And, like his once boyfriend had, he turned his back on it all. Resisting the urge to inhale Blaine's scent on the clothes hanging up in the wardrobe. Resisting the urge to go down to the reception and create a scene. Resisting the urge to stay in the building all together.
He walked away from it all.
And when Blaine returned to that suite with his bride that night, discovering the bracelet, he slipped it onto his own wrist and cried as he clutched the note to his chest.
'You promised you wouldn't let me go... Have a wish on me.'