Blaine inhaled and held his breath. He knocked on the wooden door. Kurt opened the door with a bouquet of blue forget-me-not flowers clutched in a slightly shaking hand. Blaine felt his stomach clench at the shaking hands. The tone for the evening had already been set before the greetings were even exchanged.
"Thanks Kurt," Blaine said, his voice calm and steady in contrast to his racing heart. "Although, it's a little unorthodox for the host to be giving flowers to the guest."
Kurt laughed, "You know me. Though you might want to reconsider before thanking me.I spilt some red paint on the flowers. So they look a little debauched." His tone was airy but it did little to put Blaine at ease.
Kurt was strange. He surrounded himself with symbolism that could visually be appreciated even if people did not understand said symbolic statements. Blaine knew there was nothing accidental about spilling red paint on forget-me-not flowers. Kurt was meticulous. There was a meticulousness to Kurt's strangeness.
Blaine's throat suddenly felt parched. He avoided eye contact with Kurt, "May I have a glass of water."
He could feel the intensity of Kurt's eyes focusing on his face. His racing heart did little to make him forget his past mistakes and, as such, his momentary lack of composure was expected. He avoided eye contact with Kurt.
The tenseness in his shoulders dissipated with the retreating footsteps. Blaine closed his eyes and heard Kurt arguing with his brother. The words rolling through his consciousness and getting lost in the void created when Kurt left him. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly.
He opened his eyes and saw Finn, who had left the kitchen, staring at him intently.
"I convinced Kurt to make snacks," Finn said by way of greeting. The contours on his face were hard and the hardness was emphasized by his steely eyes. The expression was a grotesque juxtaposition to the usual goofy expression softening the contours of his face. "I think we should talk."
Blaine could only nod his head as he felt his power and control slipping away from him. He didn't have a choice.
He entered their house with tense shoulders and his eyes downcast, symbolizing the acceptance of his loss of control.
"You hurt my brother," Finn said simply. There was no emotion in his voice.
"I know. I've apologized. I can't think of anything else I can do," Blaine replied, his voice steady and his shoulders tense.
"You can leave," Finn said in that strange monotonous voice that did little to ease the tension from the room.
Blaine looked at Finn shocked as he continued, "It doesn't matter if you did or didn't mean to hurt him. You hurt him in the worst way possible. You need to leave so he can stop holding on to some fairy tale of what your relationship symbolizes. Perhaps at some moment in time, it really was a fairy tale that had a predestined happily ever after ending."
Blaine said nothing as Finn sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Suddenly, Finn looked much younger and much older than he actually was. Blaine looked away and remembered that a year ago, he had lost everything. Suddenly, the subtle juxtaposition of his previous naivety to his current maturity made sense. He wondered why it had taken him so long to notice. He wondered if anyone else had noticed. A deep ominous feeling settled in Blaine's chest. It was becoming harder to breathe. Exhale and Inhale.
"But it's time to grow up and put the fairy tale away. The clock is ticking and forever has an expiration date. So if you ever loved him then let him live," Finn said as he stared intently at the coffee table. This was coming from the guy whose two girlfriends had cheated on him with his best friend. This was the guy who once thought he was going to have a daughter, only to have that illusion shattered once he learnt to love a child that was never his. This was the guy who had cheated on his team mate with his ex-girlfriend.
Finn was one of the few people who would ever be unlucky enough to understand that forever had an expiration date. People shielded themselves in armors of happily ever afters, only to have the scythe of reality pierce through.
"Coffee and salad are being served," The tenseness in the room momentarily forgotten as Kurt entered the room with an air of exaggerated flamboyance.
"Dude, when I said snacks I meant comfort food filled with sugar," Finn looked at the salad with disgust. "Anyways who serves salad with coffee."
As the two brothers sat bickering over what constituted as the perfect snack, Blaine could feel his carefully erected veneer crumbling. Finn's threat hanging precariously in the air and the words creating a noose around his neck that kept tightening with each passing second. He couldn't breathe. Exhale and Inhale.
His mistakes flashing to the forefront of his brain as memories of happier times came into a fuzzy focus before fading into the void created after Kurt left him.
"Hey Blaine, are you ok?" Kurt asked in concern.
Blaine stared at him as though he was seeing Kurt for the first time. He could see the weight of his mistakes bearing down on hunched shoulders that made him seem smaller. He could see pain simmering in those concerned eyes. He seemed to be folding into himself as though trying to fade away.
Cheating. Attempted assault. Emotional manipulation...All successful attempts at exerting his dominance.
And perhaps, for the first time, he really was seeing Kurt for the first time. Suddenly, Kurt looked much younger and much older than he actually was.
"Yeah," Blaine was surprised his voice did not reveal his inner tension.
"Well I was just telling Finn that I had decorated our apartment in white and blue violets and then two weeks before our anniversary, I burned them in the fireplace. It was very romantic and therapeutic," Kurt rattled on happily as though he didn't notice the panic in Blaine's eyes.
Finn laughed, "That seems like something you would do."
Except Blaine and Kurt both knew that Kurt had not decorated their apartment as such. They both knew that Kurt surrounded himself with visual aesthetics as a means of making a statement that had symbolic meaning.
Two weeks before their anniversary was when Kurt found out Blaine had cheated.
White violets symbolize innocence and blue violets symbolize fidelity. Blaine spat on their relationship and Kurt retaliated by subtly telling him goodbye through the added detail of burning shrinking violets in the fireplace. This was goodbye.
Blaine glanced at the blue forget-me-not flowers clutched tightly in his hands. They were, once upon a time, worn by Madame Pompadour as a sigh of faithfulness to King Louis. It was a tidbit of history that, at the time he had learnt it, seemed meaningless. But now the implications weighed on his shoulders.
He looked closer and noticed the flecks of red paint. It was too late to realize how much he actually loved Kurt. This was their end. Blaine exhaled.