OK, so, I just thought that I'd try this out :) I love Kurt and Blaine (Klaine) and I repeat several of the quotes that Kurt say from Glee, so... I'm like a Mega-Fan now. So, I've never written a Klaine FanFic before, but I will try my very best. This is just a little One-Shot, but I might turn it into something more. By the way, Blaine's awaesome :) So's Darren Criss! I Less-Than-Three him ;)
Chapter 1
"Blaine?"
"Hmm?"
"What happened at your Old School?" Blaine Anderson shut his eyes. He didn't want to have to relive those painful memories, not again... "Blaine?" Blaine's eyes shot open.
"Kurt, you don't need to know what happened at my old school."
"But I want to, Blaine, you're my boyfriend."
"Nothing happened at my old school."
"Well then, why did you move to Dalton?" Crap. "Come on Blaine, you can tell me anything." Kurt sat next to him on the bed, and sqeezed his hand. The two boys had been doing their homework, before planning to engage in a heated make-out session.
"Kurt, look, I've waited so long to find someone, boy or girl, that's like you," Kurt smiled at him. "And I just can't lose you."
"You're not going to Blaine. Tell me." Kurt turned his Glasz (A mix of green, blue and grey) eyes on Blaine. Blaine couldn't say no.
"OK, fine. But, if I find it too painful, you have to let me stop, OK?"
"OK." Blaine took a deep breath.
A Thirteen Year old Blaine smiled to himself. He'd just passed his Grade 3 Guitar Exam with Flying Colours, his mother was making Steak for Dinner later on, and his best friend, Damien, had just managed to get Chloe Spencer to go out with him. As a result, Damien had listened to Blaine go on and on about the latest Harry Potter book/Movie, and not said a word about how dorky he was. Of course, Damien never meant it personally.
Blaine was just about to peer up the road for the School Bus, when he felt a sharp twinge at the back of his head. He turned around, rubbing the back of his head, and looked down. Down by his feet, lay a small stone. There was a menacing laugh, and he looked up.
"Hello, Anderson." It was Daniel Bills. He was in Blaine's year, but was twice as large as Blaine, and on the Football Team. Blaine didn't hate him exactly, but they weren't best mates.
"Hello Daniel." Blaine said pleasantly.
"So, I hear that you're gay." Daniel said softly. Blaine stared at him.
"W-What makes you say that?"
"Well, homo, I heard you and that gay boy Damien at Break." Daniel spat.
"Damien's not gay." Blaine said, ignoring the flecks of spit that hit his cheek. He took a deep breath. "So, Dan, what's wrong with me telling Damien. He's my best friend."
"Yeah, well, not all of us sane people want to hear about your faginess."
"Is that even a word?" Daniel slammed Blaine up against a nearby wall.
"Listen to me, Lady, don't talk to me!"
"You started talking to me!" Blaine felt a strong hand contact his cheek.
"I said, Don't Talk to me, queer!"
"Like I wanted to! And what's with the name calling?"
"I'm calling you gay, dumbass." Blaine almost punched Daniel right back, when he remembered that there was no point; Daniel was, unfortunately, stronger. So, with great loathing, Blaine turned away from Daniel, and carried on waiting for the bus.
"By the next morning, everyone at the school knew." Blaine sighed. "At first, everyone just sent me dirty looks, and ignored me. Sure, I wasn't used to it, I mean, I'd been pretty popular there. But it wasn't too bad after a while." Blaine sighed again and looked up at Kurt. "If you still want me to go on, I will." Kurt nodded.
The First time it happened, he'd been left alone to put away the P.E equipment. He didn't mind helping out Coach Adams, as he was one of the nicest teachers at the school.
Just as he'd finished putting away the last of the batons for Relay, he heard footsteps approach from behind him. He spun round, expecting to see Damien try to pull a prank on him, or something of that nature, but instead, he saw one of Daniel's friends, Jordan Samuels, flanked by two of his cronies, Mark Taylor and Dean Roberts. Blaine always though that the three were like Draco and Crabbe and Goyle from his Harry Potter books.
"So, this is the queer we've heard so much about." Jordan drawled. Yet another quality that reminded Blaine of Draco Malfoy; that, and the light blonde hair and grey blue eyes.
"What do you want, Jordan?" Blaine asked. Blaine knew that's what Harry would of done. However, Blaine also reminded himself that, unlike when he was in his room, he wasn't Harry Potter. Jordan didn't answer him.
"What do you think you're doing here, all alone with no Damien to protect you, fag?" Blaine frowned, half worried. It was well known that Damien was now the Quarterback on the Junior High Football Team. No one messed with Damien, who was now the most popular thirteen year old in school.
"What do I need to be protected from?" Blaine asked. It was immediatly afterwards that he realised that it was a stupid move to make.
"This." And with that, Jordan pushed Blaine into the P.E Cupboard. Blaine landed with a thud, banging his head (cushioned by his then un-gelled curls) on the hard wood floor. He could see Jordan and his cronies pushing the door to the cupboard so that it closed. "See ya homo!"
"NO!" Blaine yelled, struggling to get up, but to no avail; he was caught on Netball nets. The cupboard went pitch black dark. Blaine struggled for a few minutes, untangling himself from the nets, before banging on the door, yelling to be let out. No one could hear him though. "HELP! SOMEONE HELP!" He knew it was fruitless, as everyone was probably getting Lunch. Blaine sighed to himself. His lesson that day had been the last that had would of been taught. Blaine groaned, and felt tears sting his eyes. It was Friday. No lessons until Monday. Blaine sniffed, hungry, alone, and hopeless.
"So, you spent the whole Weekend locked in a P.E Supplies closet?" Kurt whispered, eyes full of tears. Blaine laughed harshly.
"No. It was only when my parents rang the school when I never came home that they found me. See, Coach Adams knew that he'd last seen me at the P.E Lesson, and he asked Damien whether I'd been seen since. It was a well known fact that Damien and I went everywhere together." Kurt blinked at him.
"D-Did you love him?" Kurt asked. Blaine's expression softened.
"Only like a brother. We grew up like that, you see."
"Do you still talk to him?" Blaine's eyes filled with tears.
"I-I'm getting there."
"Seriously, Jordan locked you in there?" Damien whispered during French. Blaine nodded for the seventh hundred time.
"That's what I've been saying since Saturday Morning, Damien."
"You should of told your parents this, Blaine, he could of gotten expelled."
"Well, I didn't really want to, I told them something better."
"What, that you tripped over your own feet and the door just closed becuase of the wind?"
"It could of happened!"
"Boys!" The pair looked up at their teacher, Mrs Powers. "Have you translated the piece on The Streetdancers in Paris?" When the boys looked at her blankly, she elaborated, with, "Tecktonik!" Blaine and Damien's mouths opened in understanding. "So, how much work have you done, Mr Anderson?"
"I've found out that Tecktonik is a dance and a style of clothing that originated in Paris. Oh, and it's got things like Fluorescent clothing." Madame Powers nodded in approval. As soon as she had gone, Blaine and Damien, who had forgotten what they were talking about, started up a conversation about which of the Order of the Phoenix from Harry Potter were better.
When Blaine reached fourteen just half a year later in November, he celebrated grandly. After school, he and Damien had planned to go out to the cinema with a few of their school friends (Mainly the ones who weren't popular, but Blaine didn't care, they were awesome) and then afterwards, go for dinner at Breadstix. Blaine's parents had then agreed that Blaine and Damien could come back and have a "Sleepover", as it was a Friday night.
The night had started off great. The five boys had headed off to the theatre, bought popcorn and drinks, and settled down to watch the movie, which had been very "Awesome", as Damien and Blaine put it. They had then headed off to Breadstix.
Just as they'd finshed their meal, however, none other then Daniel showed up, with Susan Davies on his arm. By this time, she'd dyed her hair and lost a lot of weight. As soon as he spotted Blaine, however, having fun with several of his friends, he marched over there, leaving a bewildered Susan standing there.
"What are you doing here fag?" Daniel growled. Damien stood up, looking pissed off.
"Get outta here, Dan." He growled. "It's Blaine's birthday, and we're here to celebrate him reaching fourteen." Daniels eyes flickered to Blaine and his friends.
"Some friends; a cripple, a black and an Asian. What a crowd." Blaine and his friends ignored the insulting comments. "Look, Anderson, you shouldn't be allowed in here, you should be kept outside with the dogs."
"Oh, like you?" Damien asked, dark eyes flickering with a taunting light. It all happened fast; Daniel and Damien were suddenly locked in a fight. Daniel had Damien in headlock; Damien kicked Daniel's thigh; Daniel was hitting Damien on the nose; Blaine had stood up and pulled the two apart; Daniel and Blaine were now fighting. Daniel struck Blaine across the face, hissing, "Aww, poor little faggot!"
"Gentlemen, stop!" Blaine felt Daniel being pulled off him. He looked up, through the black eye that was now forming, and saw the Owner of the Resteraunt. "Now, I'm going to have to ask you all to leave."
"But sir, that bloody pig came over here and called Blaine a-" Blaine put his hand round Damien's mouth.
"We'll be going now, sir." Blaine said. "Come on, Dame, let's call my parents so that these guys can get home." After they'd paid for their meal, the five left.
"Why did you stop me from telling the Owner what happened?" Damien asked. He was sporting a bloody, but not broken, nose, and was holding an ice pack to it. Blaine was also holding an ice pack to his eye.
"One, Daniel's not worth it. Two, not everyone's as accepting of gays as we are." Damien's eyes widened.
"So, you're definitely gay now? It's not just a phase?"
"No, Dame. Don't worry, I don't fancy you, that's like incest, but I've known I was gay for a while. I told you ages ago."
"Yeah, but we were little kids then, Blaine, who said things to make eachother giggle."
"So, are you going to go all homophopic on me?" Damien stared at him like he was mad.
"Of course not, Blaine. We're best mates. Like in Kindergarten, and you gave me the last of your Crisps. Or, that time when I cut my knee from falling from that tree in my back yard, and you held my hand when they had to give my leg all them stitches." Damien reached out and patted Blaine's arm. "If you fancy boys, you fancy boys. It's simple." Blaine would of cried, if he wasn't a boy.
"Thanks Dame."
"So, you just told him?" Kurt asked. "Without thinking that he might be against gays?"
"Kurt, Damien had been my best friend since I was little. I couldn't keep secrets from him."
"So, what happened that was really bad that made you leave your old school?" Blaine sighed.
"Well, for a start, everyone started throwing things at me in the Cafeteria..."
"Seriously, I'm not going in there Dame."
"Look, Blaine, if you don't eat something at lunch, you're going to starve."
"Damien, I've just washed my hair, I don't want to have to wash it again because it's got mashed up boiled egg in it."
"Look, you know that whenever I see someone doing it, I teach them a lesson."
"Yes, but Damien, violence isn't the answer."
"Come on Blaine, I'm not going in there without you." Blaine sighed.
"Fine."
As the two walked into the Cafeteria, all eyes turned to stare at them. Blaine and Damien, laughing and chatting awkwardly, grabbed their food and sat down at the nearest table.
"OI! HOMO!"
"This school really lacks creativity." Blaine smirked nervously, turning around. He was immediately hit by a soggy white mess. He brought his hands up to his face and wiped the mixture away from his eyes, so that he could glare at the jock who had done it. The jock was grinning.
"You like mashed potato, Queenie?" He asked, cackling as he and his friends stood up and began to leave. Damien was staring at him, mouth wide open.
"Er, what a bastard?" He supplied. Blaine, trying to ignore the tears in his eyes, just stared at Damien, then picked up his bag, trying (but failing) not to drip mashed potato on his bag, before vailently walking out, ignoring the jeers and catcalls of everyone else.
"Kurt, do you want me to go on?" Blaine asked. Kurt, who had been breathing heavily, nodded.
"Seriously, they threw food at you?" Blaine nodded. "Ruined all of your outfits?" Blaine bit his lip to hide his smile, and nodded again. "How terrible." Blaine smiled.
"Yeah, but I was more worried about my parents finding out about it getting in my hair."
"And Damien didn't go after him?" Blaine blinked, and slowly shook his head.
"No, he didn't..." To avoid any more questions, Blaine carried on.
Blaine thought it would end there, but no. Soon, the kids at school, especially the jocks on the Football Team (Except for Damien), started shoving him into lockers, tripping him up in hallways, and locking him in cupboards. The girls also used their gossiping skills, and soon, a rumour existed that Blaine had been seen in one of the French Classrooms, trying to rape one of the younger boys. No one spoke to Blaine, in fear of being caught up in the trouble. The boys soon started requesting that Blaine changed in a different room, in case he started trying to "convert" them. The excuse they used, however, was that Blaine was calling them names and rude words. So, Blaine decided to tell a teacher, knowing it was probably useless, but better then nothing.
After Friday's P.E Lesson, Blaine stayed behind while all the other boys (Including Damien) ran off to lunch. Just as Coach Adams came in, he swung his bag on his shoulder and walked up to the Coach.
"Ah, Blaine, shouldn't you be getting lunch?" Coach asked, looking up at him.
"Yes sir, but I wanted to talk to you." He took a deep breath. "Listen, I'm not doing any of the name calling here, it's the other boys."
"What do you mean Blaine?" Coach Adams frowned at him.
"Listen, they've all started...being cold to me." Blaine concluded. "And..." Blaine realised the problem would never be solved right if the Coach didn't have full details, so he pulled on a brave face. "They're all doing it because I'm gay."
Coach Adams looked down a minute, and then looked up again, looking sympathetic.
"Listen, Blaine," He put a hand on his shoulder. "You can't just say that you're gay, and not expect the other boys to not react. It will all blow over in time." Blaine doubted that.
"But sir-"
"Blaine, I'm sorry, but...Hey, if you're gay, then your life is just going to be miserable. Sorry Blaine." Blaine looked down, ashamed at the tears in his eyes. "Now, go get some lunch, chat with Damien, have fun before your afternoon lessons."
"He just did nothing?" Kurt asked, open mouthed, White faced. "Nothing at all?" Blaine shrugged.
"What do you expect? All the teachers say that."
"What happened next?"
Blaine had been needing the toilets since third period, and it was a relief when the bell for Lunch finally ran. Running to the nearest boys toilets, he hurried into a cubicle, only to stop dead in his tracks.
All across the cubicle doors, there were numerous drawings, words, and other graffiti. When Blaine looked closer, he saw the figure that had been drawn on the cubicles.
It was him.
In the first one he looked at, a felt tip drawing, two big burly characters were holding down a dark-haired figure, while another one was standing above him with a knife. In another one, he was lying on the floor, while several people were (by the looks of it) pissing on him. The third one he looked at was of him, in what looked like a childs drawing of a house...
He was hanging on a noose.
Blaine suddenly felt sick. Running all over the walls were words like QUEER and HOMO. But the one that stuck out the most, and for once, hit him hard, was the large, prominent FAG. He, forgetting the urge to pee, ran out of the bathroom, and to his Lockers, hoping to find Damien standing by his adjacent locker, grinning. He found Damien, standing there in the corridor, looking appalled. Blaine soon saw why.
All across Blaine's locker were grafittied words, just like in the toilets. FAG. QUEEN. HOMO. QUEER. FREAK. COMMIT SUICIDE. Blaine felt a sick pang in his stomach with every word. Damien, aknowledging his prescence, turned around.
"Blaine, I didn't-"
"Forget it." Blaine said.
"I swear, Blaine, I didn't-"
"Yeah, well, you didn't stop your mates, did you?" Blaine spat.
"Blaine, I didn't know... I would of stopped them..."
"Just don't talk to me." Blaine turned away, tears welling up rapidly in his eyes.
"Blaine!" But Blaine ignored him.
"Blaine, why don't you invite Damien around anymore?" Blaine didn't answer his mother. "Blaine?" Blaine's head snapped up. "Why don't you invite Damien around anymore?"
"Oh, we just...grew apart." Even as Blaine said it, he felt a pang, knowing that Damien wasn't his Best friend anymore. "That's all."
School got worse and worse. There was the Sadie Hawkins Dance incident. Whenever teachers backs were turned, scrunched up balls were thrown at him. Whenever they were alone in the boys toilets, the boys would force Blaine to stay there, until he finally peed - in his pants. Whenever Blaine walked home, the boys followed him home, jeering and calling him names. No one wanted to talk to him. Damien never looked his way. The other boys that had been there for his fourteenth started in with the name calling - not because they hated him, but because they simply didn't want to suffer the bullying themselves. Life looked hopeless.
Then one day, the routine broke. No one called him any names. The girls chatted with him animatedly. Nothing was thrown at him. He could pee in the toilet. No more grafitti (Which Blaine had found daily sprayed on his locker) and best of all, Damien sat with him all through lunch.
"Are you OK, Dame?" Blaine asked. Damien had been looking down all through lunch, and only smiled lightly whenever Blaine said something funny.
"Yeah, I'm great." Another weak smile. "Listen, Blaine, I'm really sorry about what's been happening the past few weeks. I spoke to all the jocks and all that, and they're going to leave you alone. Not completely, not everyone might listen, but we're doing our best." Blaine smelt something fishy- but that could of easily been the fish he was having. Blaine nodded, and finished his lunch.
By the end of school, Blaine began to doubt that the bullying would really reach the scale it had again. Maybe Coach Adams had been right - the bullying was just temporary.
All of that changed when he started walking home.
"Blaine?" Kurt asked. "If you don't want to go on, don't." Kurt sighed, looking angry with himself. "I shouldn't of asked you, I'm being a bad boyfriend by asking you."
"Kurt, you're not being a bad boyfriend." Blaine put a comforting hand on Kurt's. "It actually feels quite good to tell someone." Kurt smiled. "Anyway, I'll go on, but..." Blaine hesitated. "If it gets too much for you, just tell me, and I'll stop right away. I promise." Kurt nodded.
"Whenever you're ready, Blaine."
What a perfect day, Blaine thought, No bullies, no whispers, no-
"Look, there he is!" Blaine swung round.
"GET HIM!"
"IT'S THE QUEER!" Blaine felt thick meaty hands clamp his arms, which were like twigs in the grasp of the hands.
"Hey! Let go of me!" Blaine yelled. He felt someone strike him across the face. The left side of his face was flaming. He looked up, and saw Jordan Samuels standing there, smirking at him. And - Blaine refused to believe it - Damien was standing there, looking awkward, and uncomfortable.
"Nice to see you again, Fag." Jordan said smugly.
"What do you want?" Blaine asked. He was slapped again.
"Speak only when you're spoken to, girly." Jordan carried on smiling smugly. When Blaine didn't react again, Jordan glared at the two beefy jocks holding Blaine. "Well, go on then, hit him!" Blaine flinched as a hand came speeding towards him. However, no blow came. Instead there was just hash laughter. Blaine opened his eyes. They were all laughing at him.
"What a pussy!" One of the ones holding him laughed. Jordan's laughter sharply stopped, and he smirked.
"Yes...he is..." He smirked even more at him. "And boys, you know what real men do to pussies..." Blaine didn't like where this was going. When they said that word...it was what they called all the girls at school's...
Blaine gasped in horror.
"That's right, faggot. We pound them." Blaine felt a strong punch to his stomach. He began to struggle, but the punches just increased in amount, and intensity. Blaine could have sworn that he felt at least two of his ribs crack. Then, just like that, the punches stopped. Blaine looked up, struggling to see through his now black eye. Jordan was smiling evilly. "Now, Anderson, I trust that you've seen our artworks in the boys toilets?" Blaine nodded. "Well, now you'll understand that what was happening to you in the pictures - it's happening to you now." Blaine's eyes widened. "Now," Jordan said softly. "Dear Damien here is going to choose the first that's going to happen to you."
Damien stepped forwards. He looked close to tears. Blaine knew he had no choice but to participate.
"Which one will it be?" Jordan asked softly, and dangerously, in a voice that said if Damien tried to help Blaine, he'd be subjected to the same torture.
"I-" Damien hesitated. "W-What are the options?"
"Stabbing him, pissing in his mouth, or hitting him on the head with a baseball bat until he dies from blood loss." The last one must of been new.
"I... Pissing in his mouth." Damien whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek.
"Your choice." Jordan nodded to the other two boys. They both let go of Blaine, barely giving him a second to breath, before pushing him onto his back. "I think Damien here should do the honours." Damien backed away, shaking his head. "No? Alright then, I'll do it." Jordan unzipped his pants slowly. Blaine looked away. He didn't want to look at Jordan's "Junk", no matter what all the boys said. At first, he felt a little trickle entering his pants. And it wasn't his urine.
"Kurt, if you're uncomfortable..." How could Blaine have been so stupid as to tell Kurt what had happened?
"I'm fine, Blaine." Kurt whispered. He gripped Blaine's hand. "Go on Blaine." Blaine sighed, and carried on.
"Eww, look at that tramp." The other boys sniggered. They had just peed in his pants, hair, and mouth. Blaine felt dirty. Tainted.
"Please." Blaine choked. "You've had fun, please, just let me go."
"Not a chance, pretty boy." A kick to the ribs. A snap that only Blaine could hear. "Come on, I have an idea."
"A new one?" Nick jeered.
"Hell yeah." Slowly, Jordan pulled two things from his jacket; a lighter, and a sharp knife. Where he got that, Blaine didn't know. "Now boys, let's not kill him. We could get in trouble for that." Sniggers. "Now, Blaine, we won't need to continue, if you just say those magic words; You are Straight." Blaine glared at him weakly.
"I. Am. Gay." He said bravely. Clearly, for the three torturers, this was the wrong answer. His response earned him a kick down below.
"Oh, Anderson, I suppsoe we're going to have to do this the hard way..." Putting the lighter away in his pocket, he brandished the long curved blade of the knife he was carrying. Blaine flinched at the sight of it. Jordan pulled Blaine's coat off, and pulled the sleeve of his sleeve up. "One more chance Blaine..."
"Get lost." Blaine hissed.
"Right then." Jordan pushed the knife through Blaine's skin on his arm. Blaine screamed and thrashed in pain. "If you carry on thrashing, it will just make it more painful, Anderson." Damien was looking away, all but sobbing. Blaine looked down at his arm. The letter F was sitting there, ugly and bleeding. "I was right, Nick, the Faggots blood is a different colour." Harsh laughing. More pain as the knife sliced through his wrist. Soon, three Letters resided there. F.A.G. FAG. Blaine sobbed helplessly.
"You deserve every bit of this." James bent down and whispered in his ear. Blaine couldn't hear anything but the jeers.
"You learnt your lesson, Anderson?"
"P-Piss O-Off." Blaine sobbed. Kick in the jaw.
"So be it. Damien," He turned to look at the other boy, who was sobbing like Blaine. "Watch very carefully about what happens to faggots who are too sinful to realise that they should be destroyed." He pulled out the lighter. "Now, Nick, you have the lighter fluid, don't you?" Nick nodded, and pulled a carton out of his school bag. Shit Shit Shit Shit Shit...
They were opening it now, and pouring it all over his body. Well, Blaine thought, at least my death will be quick...
"STOP!" Blaine could hear Damien scream, just as Jordan flickered the lighter. All of the boys looked at Damien, who was running up to the jocks. He went and pushed Jordan. "YOU BASTARD! LEAVE HIM ALONE! HE'S DONE NOTHING WRONG!" Jordan stood there appalled. Then, he nodded to James and Nick. The boys went and grabbed Damien from behind.
"Alright then, Damien. It's your turn." Jordan put the lighter to the bottom of Damien's trousers. The flame was slow, not like it would of been on Blaine. Blaine closed his eyes to shut out Damien's screams.
"BLAINE! RUN!" Blaine could hear Damien scream. Before any of the jocks could react, Blaine was up, with his school bag, and running down the road as fast as he could, terrified. The Jocks did not follow him.
As soon as Blaine was far away enough, he pulled out his cell phone, which he'd left in his bag. He dialled 911, and sobbed down the phone that he needed an Ambulance, that he and his friend had been brutally attacked, that he was bleeding heavily, and that Damien was burning to death slowly...
"So," Kurt whispered. "W-What happened?" Blaine, who had tears rolling down his cheeks, shook his head.
"It was a blur. The Ambulance came, and Damien was badly burnt. I was violently sick and all that, but we were safe."
"D-Did Damien get better?" Kurt asked, a tear leaking from his eye.
"No. He died a week later. His burns were that bad, that he just passed away in his sleep." Blaine choked out a sob. "The first few weeks after were unbearable. I thought about ending it all, you know, cutting myself. They never actually charged the bastards, you know? They were all too worried about my cuts." Kurt noticed Blaine finger the left sleeve of his Blazer.
"I-Is that word still there?" Kurt asked. Blaine nodded. Slowly, he shrugged off his blazer, before pulling up the sleeves of his crisp white school shirt. The scar was still there, red and blotchy, and most importantly, ugly, and forever there. Kurt clamped his hands to his mouth. "Oh, God... Blaine, I-I didn't..."
"It's not your fault I got caught by a bunch of Homophobes." Blaine sighed. "So now you know, you probably want to break up with me." Kurt sat there, looking appalled.
"Why would I want to do that?" Kurt asked.
"Becuase I-I'm ugly and scarred, and no guy wants a boyfriend - or girlfriend - like that, Kurt." Kurt took a deep breath and smiled a breath taking smile at Blaine.
"I do." Blaine blinked at him. "As Fleur Delacour said; "All these scars show is that my boyfriend is brave". And that's you Blaine. Harry Potter. The brave Prince Charming. And I wouldn't want you any other way."
"I love you Kurt."
"I love you too, Blaine."
OK, I'm British, so I'm not so sure about a lot of American High School things. :)
Hope you enjoyed it.