[A/N} The story's content is heavy. At least for me. Disclaimer: I do not own the Glee universe, nor do I own to characters. First quote is from Glee S03E05 (The First Time) which we all probably know. Rated T because I feel more comfortable with that rather than K+ or K. Genered as H/C and Romance because I don't know what else.

{While We're Still Young}

"Don't you think now is the time to be adventurous? While we're still young."

"Care to enlighten your fiancé as to where exactly you have been?"

Blaine froze on his feet as the previously dark and silent room suddenly turned bright in the night. However, it was the coldness in Kurt's voice that literally cut through Blaine's very soul, causing the shorter man to gulp and nervously fidget with his engagement ring on his left ring finger.

"O-oh," Blaine stuttered inarticulately. "H-hi Kurt, why're you still awake?"

"My previous question has yet to be answered," Kurt replied in a nasty sneer. The fashionable young man folded his arms impatiently over his chest and raised a brow. "I'm waiting."

"I—," but Blaine couldn't finish. He didn't even know what he was supposed to say. No words of truth could ever build up a very fancy sentence. The truth was horrible. Kurt deserved to know the truth, but Blaine gathered they would both be better off without this particular one.

Blaine had known for long that this conversation was inevitable. In fact, he hadn't thought it'd last for as long as it did, considering Kurt's impatience and constant worry. Two and a half months Blaine's act had lasted, and it was a wonder his boyfriend had let him have so much time.

"I—Kurt," Blaine stuttered weakly. He dared a glance at Kurt's eyes, which caused his heart to drop. They were so cold; they showed literally no emotion but coldness. How could these beautiful eyes turn into something colder than ice?

Kurt's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Go to the living room. I'll be there in a moment. And don't you dare go anywhere but to the living room." With that, Kurt turned on his heel and walked away. That was when Blaine registered how defeated his boyfriend looked like. He no longer carried the same posture as he had half a year ago, and his hair was way more ruffled than Blaine had ever seen it. Even after lovemaking it was more in place. And as he remembered the cold stare, he also remembered the empty look, the red puffed eyes with a slight hint of dark purple underneath.

Blaine's face scrunched up in pain as he realised he was the reason why Kurt looked like he did.

Deciding not to push his luck further – dearly wishing to avoid as much Hummel-rage as he could—Blaine silently tripped towards the living room and curled up on the black couch. His heart hammered fast and hard in his chest because he was only moments away from his doom.

Kurt wouldn't ever want me after I've told him, Blaine thought sadly, feeling the tears prickle his eyes. He blinked furiously to get them away.

And that's when his ears detected the sound from a faucet being turned on. It came from the bathroom. Blaine let the tears fall, because he knew that Kurt was crying. Kurt seldom cried, but when he did, he went to the bathroom, locked the door and turned on the faucet to prevent his sobs from getting heard.

You've caused him a great deal of pain, Anderson, Blaine's mind whispered nastily. Do you think he'll take you back? After all you've done to him, do you think he'll take you back? We both know Kurt, right? We both know he isn't much for second chances. What's saying you'll get one?

Blaine decided it was time to push those thoughts away. He wiped away the remaining tears and sniffled. What would he say to Kurt anyway?

Oh, hi, Kurt. The reason I've been avoiding you for the last couple of weeks—

What I've been up to? Oh, nothing special, just avoiding you because I can't stand looking into your eyes and participate in the conversations in which you're planning for our future—

And we don't have a future, Blaine sighed at the last thought. Tears threatened once again to break through, but as he heard the faucet turn off, he quickly wiped his eyes and sniffled before rearranging his position to a more presentable perch. He unfolded his legs, letting his feet meet the wooden floor and folded his hands above his thighs.

A moment later, Kurt strode in but he lacked the usual elegance. The taller didn't say anything as he sat down on the far end of the couch. Blaine sighed at the act, but said nothing either.

For a few minutes, they waited out each other. Usually Blaine always started the issue in these talks, because Kurt was so stubborn. But today, right now, he couldn't. He couldn't open his mouth without feeling the tears in his eyes and the bile rising. So Kurt finally gave in. Perhaps he realised Blaine's inability to start this time, and showed some mercy, or perhaps he was just too tired to keep up his stubborn act.

Blaine didn't know why he believed it was the latter.

"Well?" Kurt snapped, folding his leg over the other. "I'm still waiting. Where've you been?"

Blaine couldn't answer. He turned his face away and stared at the photo-wall which Kurt had created. There was Quinn Fabray smiling to the camera, with Puck beside who made a rude gesture with a certain finger. Brittany on her bed, carefully petting her cat with Santana by the computer; The Warblers gathered in a group photo where all the boys smiled widely into the camera; Rachel and Kurt somewhere in New York; Kurt and Blaine right before their first time in bed – all the memories were there, on that wall. And it stung Blaine's chest to look at it, feeling the memories radiating from the wall, but he couldn't face Kurt.

"Let me rephrase it then," Kurt continued, sounding more irritated by each syllable. "Where do you find more satisfaction to be, rather than home with your fiancé?"

"Kurt," Blaine croaked, wetting his lips nervously. He pleaded with the help of his eyes for Kurt to understand, for Kurt to still love him. "Kurt, I never—"

"Is there someone else?" Kurt interrupted and stood up abruptly. His face was flushed and he turned away from Blaine, walking towards the windows that showed them their backyard.

"What?" Blaine exclaimed, surprised by the question. "Someone else? Where on earth did you get that impression from? I'd never—"

"Well, is there?" Kurt repeated, still refusing to look at Blaine. "Because lord knows where you've been these past few months. You're not there when I wake up; you're not there when I go to bed. Sometimes you're not there when I wake up in the middle of the night to turn in bed and wanting nothing more than to see you lie beside me. You don't call me other than to say you'll be late. You don't look me in the eyes and you don't tell me you love me. So provide a poor heart an answer: Am I second to the best? Is there someone else? Don't you love me anymore?"

Even though Kurt sure knew how to make the words shred a soul into pieces, Blaine did detect the insecurities and desperation in Kurt's voice. Blaine detected everything from the sadness to the anger.

"There's no one but you, Kurt," Blaine said as he shook his head. "I thought you knew that." He mentally berated himself for saying that, because he knew he hadn't showed Kurt any of his love for a while.

"Well, excuse me for doubting you," Kurt sneered and turned to face Blaine. The coldness was slowly replaced by a frown. "Then why?"

Yes, why, indeed. Blaine too wondered why he hadn't just told Kurt immediately. He didn't understand why he had acted so foolishly, risking the only thing that kept him going.

Blaine bit his lips and his eyes darted downwards.

"Is it your cousin? Has something happened to him?" Just before Blaine started to act out of character, his cousin Alan had been in a serious car crash. He'd survived, obviously, but the doctors were still unsure what would happen to him. "Or is it your dad? Has he called you lately?"

Blaine shook his head and heard how his breath hitched. He tried to even it out; he tried to breathe calmly, but he couldn't. He was confronted by his fiancé and he had to answer his questions lest he wanted to become a single man in his late twenties.

"I—Kurt, there's something I need to tell you," Blaine whispered, swallowing the bile. He'd practised on this speech for a while, with different turn-outs and different wordings. He knew it wouldn't go the same way as in his imagination, but he had a start. He had a ground to kick off from.

"I can see that," Kurt replied, but it was only a flat reply. None of the previous venom or coldness was present.

Blaine took a shuddering breath before continuing. "The reason I've been avoiding you is because—," Blaine swallowed and swallowed and swallowed. It honestly felt as though he has a stone in his throat. "—because, I—," he tried to blink away his tears, but it was all in vain. His cheeks had already gone wet. "—because I'm d-dying, Kurt. I'm d-dying. I've g-got can—," Blaine swallowed again, "cancer."

And with that, he couldn't say anything more. He broke down crying, curling himself again and tried to pull off his hair. He wouldn't have any hair left soon anyway, he thought angrily. Because in all the sadness he carried because of this heavy knowledge, Blaine was furious. He was furious because he would most probably not survive the cancer, and he would therefore leave Kurt alone. It was agonising, because he'd do exactly what Kurt's mother had done two decades ago. He didn't want that. He'd promised to grow old with Kurt; to stay with him forever.

He'd promised so many times. He'd trusted himself to keep that promise. And now he broke it.

"What type of cancer?" whispered Kurt.

"Thyroid cancer. It's sp-spread. That's why I had aches before."

"Oh," Kurt's face fell. He knew about that type of cancer. It was malignant. "How long?"

"About—about two years, they said." Blaine broke down again. His shoulder shook violently as he tried to hide his face from Kurt.

He never noticed the comforting embrace he received. He never noticed the gentle lips, kissing him to on his bare skin and he never noticed when the black surrounded him.

He never noticed when Kurt repeatedly whispered the words he so dearly needed to hear.

"I'm here with you, Blaine. I love you, and I'm with you because of that. We'll get through this together, OK?"

- Finite Incantatem.

[A/N} I will not continue to write on this story. You're the one who will decide whether Blaine will survive or not. This subject is too heavy for me to deal with, and I only wrote this for the sake of my own. I needed to vent.

[MSG} On a happier note, this is only a preparation for my Glee & Harry Potter crossover. I'm usually not a fan of crossovers, but I'm comfortable enough in both fandoms to write it. It's supposed to be humour and romance involved, with a hint of a heavy past. It's the way I write. I can't write without at least a hint of angst. I've the first chapter finished, and I will write until at least the third chapter. After that I'll publish the first, revise Art of Suicide and also finish the story's next chapter. Then I will write on chapter four and five on my crossover and publish the second chapter. That is my plans for 2012, but I am yet unsure how I will deal with the time. The reason I've been so very off during the year is because of personal issues more than writer's block and time limits. Especially the time in December through March is heavy for me to deal with, which is why I wrote this story; to deal with my personal demons. I think it was wise of me, so that I can move on. Thank you for your time.