Little oneshot for you that my friend asked me to write. Hopefully it turned out okay, so review.

Silly you.

Adorable, handsome and cute. The first three things I thought when I saw you on that staircase. Looking so cute and confused that it was hard not to be drawn away. And the hesitant way you bit your lip as you spoke to me, not quite brave enough to meet my eyes. I was drawn to you instantly.

That same day I sang to you, the entire room might have been full of cheering and students but in my eyes, there was only you. The way your eyes lit up and that smile. Instantly knowing that this song was for you, and only you.

We went for coffee and you opened up to me. Confided to me, your deepest secrets, how scared you were. And I supported you, gave you the courage you before didn't have. You repaid me with that breath-taking smile once more as you clutched your drink and I knew then. I was falling for you.

You called me a week later with a secret only I could hear. You cried on the phone as you told me, and I just wished to wrap you in my arms and tell you "It's going to be all right." We later confronted the bully who had caused you so much pain, I wished to shout and scream, hurt him like he had hurt you. But I knew he was just confused, just like we had been.

You transferred to Dalton and I couldn't decide whether to be sympathetic or to jump and scream from happiness. So I did both. You joined the Warblers, and I was finally allowed to stare at you in awe as you performed with that incredible voice.

We hung out every day. We sang, we laughed and we talked. I was your best friend, but I wanted to be more. I craved to be more. To kiss you and hold you. But I was scared, scared of rejection and losing our friendship. Wes told me I should chase after you, claim you as mine before any other guy got the chance.

So then I found my own courage. And I told you. In that old, small coffee shop we had found, I watched your shocked face slowly process the news. The way your lips curved into a smile and your eyes twinkled with delight. I took you home and kissed you. A proper first kiss. Like magic. You lent towards me, craving for more and I had to laugh at how adorable you were. One more quick peck on the lips and I rushed off, before I was chased off by your dad. You'd told me how scary he was.

Not much changed after that. We still remained best friends, but I was allowed to hold you just that bit longer, to brush my hand against yours and to quickly kiss you in abandoned corridors. You didn't understand how lucky I was, to have you in on my arm, where I could proudly show you off. It was more than just a high school crush.

We told your dad, and he was happy though reluctant. I bonded with Finn over football and we'd spend hours discussing players, while you'd sit there, leafing through a Vogue magazine. And every few seconds our eyes would meet and you would smile that beautiful smile.

The day you gave yourself to me was special. I took proper care off you and made you feel like the most important person in the world. Because to me, you were. You moaned and writhed beneath me, eyes filled with want and lust, arching your back, begging for more. And somehow, you still managed to look like the most perfect person ever. Because to me, you were the most perfect person ever. Although you definitely denied it if I ever brought it up, with that adorable blush coating your cheeks.

"I love you." The day you said those three words my heart exploded. If someone, one year ago had told me this is what love felt like, I wouldn't have believed them, I would have laughed in their face and said they were deluded. Yet here I was, sweeping you off your feet and kissing you desperately, whispering "I love you, I love you." Over and over again until you laughed and pulled me closer.

We both graduated and moved into an apartment in New York. Both of us chased after our dreams, of me singing and you designing. And at first it was tough, with both us working in jobs we both hated with long hours that kept us apart. But we knew it would be worth it. Every night, we would curl up the sofa, watching an old musical. But I would never really pay attention, too busy placing soft kissed against your neck and inhaling your beautiful scent. I think you caught on to me though, when you came home with horror movie I truly hated and I didn't even notice. You laughed at me when you told me and watched me squirm and blush in embarrassment.

The day you forgot where we lived was when it began. The day that the first crack appeared in our life. You had called me, clearly confused, and I had picked you up. We had sat in the living room, till we both laughed it off as a weird happening after a tiring day. I would say "Silly you." And hold you. But deep down, I knew it was just the start.

Years later, we had children. Not of our own blood, but through adoption. We had dreamt of a family since high school and here we were. Me, you, Sophie and Chris.

They were beautiful, and I could swear they had your eyes. But that was impossible, you had told me, laughing.

And then you forgot Chris' birthday. And another crack appeared. 12th August. You always remembered because you'd begin planning birthday parties weeks in advance. And you couldn't understand why. But I could, because I knew what was happening, I knew that one day, all this, all we had built, would slip away from your memory. There was nothing I could say, so I'd just say "Silly you". How long till you forgot who I was?

Throughout the next few years "Silly you." Became a regular saying in our household. You forgot my coffee order, something you promised you'd always remember. The day that Mercedes called was the worst. I held the phone out to you and you'd just look at me blankly and ask "Who's Mercedes?" Mercedes the best friend who called you every week, who came to every New Year's party and who you spent hours talking to about nothing. How could you just forget? It wasn't your fault, and I knew that. But I couldn't bear to tell Mercedes, so I told her you were feeling ill, and she accepted my lie, promising to call next week. But I knew you wouldn't remember her next week, or the week after that.

We had our first big argument a few weeks later. You wanted to throw out some old clothes. But I couldn't let you. Those clothes had been your life, you had cherished them and proudly shown them to anyone who would listen. Marc Jacobs, Prada, the list went on. But you no longer saw any point in them, wanted to throw them away to 'free up more space'. I had replied with my usual "Silly you." Before I had packed up the clothes and stored them back safely in the basement.

That night I cried when you fell asleep, I curled up and wept silently trying not to wake the kids. Because I was losing you. I think you knew I was crying, because your breathing was slightly uneven, but you didn't turn around and try to comfort me. Because you knew it too, you knew that day would come, when you turn round and ask "Who are you?"

So now we are, 65 years down the line since we first met, since we shared our first kiss. We're granddads to five gorgeous children, but you don't remember them. You hardly remember anything now, lying there in bed covered in white sheets, breathing heavily with my wrinkled hand grasped tightly in yours.

We had dreamt of growing old together, and we had. Just not how we had planned it, the cracks that appeared in our life became more frequent as had we aged.

You look at me with those eyes, eyes that had brought me so much happiness and had captivated me since we first met. Now those eyes had lost their light, and were now empty, soulless and full of sadness. I visit you every day, and very day I remind you who I am. "I'm Blaine, remember me, your husband." I say every day and pray for a different response from the usual "I don't remember you." But it never comes, so I smile and place a kiss on your forehead, run a hand through your grey hair, and look into your eyes before replying. "Silly you."

'I love you.'