A/N: I loved writing for Klaine Week last year, so I wanted to contribute again this year. Choosing the Anniversary prompt was easy, writing it in canon verse was not. But this is me writing it, so rest assured I found a way to keep it from breaking my heart completely. Enjoy :) xoxo
Blaine literally falls out of bed at the sound of his alarm. Stubs his toe on his bed leg on the way to the shower. Then he accidentally uses his body wash as shampoo because he's too busy swearing about the pain in his toe to focus on which bottle he grabs. After he's dries off he realizes his favourite jeans are still dirty because he was too tired after Glee rehearsal last night to do laundry. He almost grabs a pair of sweatpants in utter defeat but stops himself when his eyes fall on his wall calendar. He crumples to the floor in a heap of sadness and takes deep, soul shuddering breaths. Tells himself he can do this. That this will be the one and only year to be like this. But at least he knows now why today is a bad day, it's March 15th.
After allowing himself five minutes to wallow, he dresses quickly in a simple pair of jeans and polo shirt. No bow tie. Not today.
He makes it through the day. He avoids the auditorium, doesn't linger at his locker and is grateful there's no Glee club after school. He doesn't know how, but he survives. The day never gets worse but it never gets better either. But he's used to that feeling now. He's hovering somewhere in a nether land between being okay and being great. He knows what he needs to get across that threshold, and well, it's beyond his control. So he's finding a way to co-exist with a heart that's pieced together with phone calls and bros helping bros and hope. Hope that he isn't sure he has a right to have.
He arrives home to his empty house. He grabs a spoon and a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream he has stashed at the back of the freezer for emergencies. He already deemed today the perfect day to eat ice cream out of the container in the middle of the afternoon while lying on the couch watching bad reality tv shows. Blaine gets through half through half the ice cream container when the doorbell rings. He debates about even getting up to answer it. It's not like it's going to be for him. It's probably some package for his Dad that got sent here by accident. But when the chime sounds again, he can't bring himself to ignore it.
Blaine opens the door. And he's right about it being a package, but he's wrong about who it's for. He accepts the long thin box with a thanks and a tip. He closes the door and takes the box with him back to the living room, where his ice cream is waiting. When his curiosity gets the better of him, Blaine slowly lifts the lid off the box. His hands begin to shake the second he sees the single red rose nestled inside. Blaine grasps the stem and gently removes it from it's tissue paper cocoon. He lifts it to his nose and inhales the sweet smell, while his other hand gropes around the box, looking for a card. There isn't one. It doesn't matter. He knows who it's from. His tears wet the petals as relief floods through him. He thought he might have overstepped, but now he knows he wasn't the only one who wanted to mark today. Even if it is a non-anniversary.
Kurt leans against his apartment door. The exhaustion from today washing over him. He doesn't even have the strength to pull his key out of his pocket and unlock the door. He considers knocking, he can hear Rachel singing inside. He laughs at his own ridiculousness. He's survived worse than a three hour dance class in the last six months, surely he can let himself into his apartment.
"You got a delivery today," Rachel calls out, to the tune of the song she'd been singing. "I put it on your bed, in case..." she trails off.
"In case what?" Kurt inquires. He can't fathom what the delivery could possibly be that she felt the need to hide it.
"Um, in case you weren't alone when you got here," Rachel raises an eyebrow and draws out the word A-L-O-N-E.
Now Kurt's interest is really piqued. He pulls off his boots with a new wave of energy and rushes to his side of the loft. He pulls the curtain aside and gasps. He shouldn't be surprised, he knows he shouldn't be. If he had the thought, then surely Blaine did too. But seeing the box that clearly contains flowers, does something to his heart.
He glides over to his bed and sits down gingerly beside the large white box. It's tied with a satin red bow that he knows he'll be adding to the shoebox tucked under his bed. He lifts the lid and inhales deeply as the perfume from a dozen long-stemmed red roses fills his room.
Kurt gazes down at the roses, feeling intoxicated by their scent. And for a moment, his heart doesn't remember the pain. It doesn't remember the betrayal. It doesn't remember that this isn't a day of celebration. Instead, his heart feels full to bursting with happiness, with love, with forever.
And before that moment passes fully, he reaches forward and plucks out the little white envelope tucked neatly between the thorn-free stems. His fingers tremble as he slides the card out. He takes a deep breath and consciously refuses to make space in his mind for the flashback of a different bouquet of roses, and a different card, trying to push it's way through and destroy this feeling. He wins the fight and stays in this moment, as he reads the card written in Blaine's simple script: Seasons may change, winter to spring, But I love you, until the end of time.
Kurt closes his eyes and let's himself float back to the rooftop he had envisioned only a week earlier, as he lays down on his bed surrounded by the roses. The exhaustion from today overwhelming him. He hears their voices joined in a perfect harmony, sees them dance together in a sweet embrace, and hears his mind soothe his aching heart with whispers of how this can be the one and only March 15 that doesn't find him lying in Blaine's arms. That all he has to do is believe.