A/N: I saw a Tumblr post that made me think about my grandmother again, and inspiration struck me to write another one-shot in this verse. I wrote this in an hour and didn't edit at all, so sorry about any mistakes.
"Hi, Blaine," Kurt says, settling into the chair opposite his husband.
"Why hello there," Blaine says cheerily, the tone he uses to greet just about everyone nowadays.
"How are you today?" Kurt asks, watching Blaine's face for any cues that he recognizes who Kurt is today; he never knows when he walks through these doors if his husband will remember who he is or not.
"Oh, I'm doing fine," Blaine response, still cheery, but Kurt can tell that Blaine doesn't remember him today. He'd never ask, Kurt knows this, but he also knows when his husband doesn't know him.
"It's a beautiful day," Kurt says, standing up against from his seat, "we should open a window." He should be used to this now, should be used to the days that Blaine doesn't recognize him, but it's still new, still feels like a slap in the face each and every time, never gets easier. He hopes someday it will, but for now, he needs to push those feelings down; he doesn't want to upset Blaine. It's not Blaine's fault that he can't remember, it's nobody's fault, it's this disease, stealing his memories slowly, so slowly that sometimes Kurt forgets it's happening until Blaine forgets their granddaughter's name, forgets the house they lived in together... forgets Kurt's face.
Kurt cracks the window open, feels the warm summer air as it breezes inside. "There, that's better, isn't it?" he asks, more to the room than to Blaine in particular, just for something to say.
"That's lovely," Blaine responds happily.
"Why don't we put some music on?" Kurt asks, walking across the room to the small radio on Blaine's bedside table, flicking it on without waiting for a response. It crackles to life, the sound of Love Me Do by The Beatles filling the room. Kurt smiles quietly to himself; The Beatles always make him smile, memories of Blaine's spectacular proposal, how happy he felt, how happy they both were.
He returns to his chair, sits and watches as his husband bobs his head along to the music, and Blaine looks so happy, peaceful, and he feels selfish for wishing that he wasn't, wishing that their situations were reversed, that he could be blissfully unaware and Blaine would be here, visiting him every day and playing him music and hoping each day that maybe he wouldn't have forgotten anything new. He doesn't really want that, not really, he wouldn't genuinely wish this on anyone let alone his husband, he just... can't help but think about how fair it is that it's always him who has to lose the ones he loves.
He doesn't even noticed the song change, is just pulled from his thoughts as Blaine sings,
"You make me feel so young,
You make me feel like spring has sprung,
Everytime I see you grin,
I'm such a happy individual."
He stares back at the man in the chair across from him. Blaine isn't looking at him, has his eyes closed as he sings softly along with the familiar song.
"The moment that you speak,
I wanna run and play hide and seek,
I wanna go and bounce the moon,
Just like a toy balloon."
Blaine bobs along with the music, a soft smile on his lips as he continues to sing, and Kurt can't help but join in.
"You and I,
We're just like a couple of tots.
Runnin' around a meadow,
Picking up all those forget-me-nots."
Blaine's eyes flutter open and he looks across at Kurt, a surprised grin on his face as he realizes he's no longer singing alone.
"You make me feel so young," Blaine continues, keeping his eyes focused on Kurt now.
"You make me feel there are songs to be sung," Kurt responds, and he can't help but grin a little more widely as he does.
"Bells to be rung, and a wonderful fling to be flung," they together, and their voices aren't what they used to be, but it doesn't diminish the warm feeling in Kurt's chest that singing with Blaine always brings.
They duet the rest of the song, singing some lines together, switching off for others, and they've sung this particular song together so many times that it feels like second nature at this point, seamless transitions, not a word forgotten or fumbled. The song ends, and they're smiling broadly at each other, and for a moment Kurt does feel young, feels like he did before this disease starting to slowly chip away at their lives together.
"I used to sing that song all the time with my husband Kurt," Blaine, says, a fond, soft smile gracing his lips. "He has a beautiful voice. Something like yours, actually," he adds thoughtfully.
"I'm sure you sounded great together," Kurt replies, ignoring the ache in his chest at Blaine's words, trying to hang on to the positive, that Blaine remembers this song, remembers him, even if he doesn't realize that Kurt is sitting right across from him. At least Blaine remembers that he exists.
"We did," Blaine says wistfully. "He's wonderful. You should meet him."
"I'd like that," Kurt says. "Maybe someday."
"Yes, maybe someday," Blaine agrees.
They fall into relative silence again, Blaine humming and singing along to the radio. Kurt just watches and listens. It's easier this way, easier when they don't talk because he can pretend that this isn't happening, can pretend they're just enjoying a comfortable silence in their home, can pretend everything is as it should be and their life together isn't slowly, painfully unravelling before his eyes.
"I had better get going," Kurt says after a while, standing and smoothing the front of his shirt. "I have some errands to run."
"Oh, okay," Blaine says with a nod. "Well, thank you for stopping by."
"Of course," Kurt says, smiling tightly back. "I'll be back tomorrow, alright?"
"That sounds lovely," Blaine replies with a smile.
He makes his way to the door, pausing for a moment by the radio before he decides to leave it on and continues to the doorway. "Bye, Blaine," he says softly, turning back to see his husband still sitting in his chair, eyes closed again as he hums along to the music, seemingly not even aware Kurt is still in the room. He purses his lips, not sure if he should speak up or not, but he ultimately decides to leave his husband be; Blaine looks happy. It's a nice image, a happy image, and it's probably better that Kurt leaves with this picture of Blaine in his mind, rather than the goodbye of a man who doesn't remember Kurt is his husband.
He pulls the door over, leaving it open just a crack to the nurses will be able to look into the room to check on Blaine as they walk past, and makes his way out to his car.
He settles into the driver's seat, lets his had fall back against the headrest and stares up at the ceiling before he starts the engine, takes a deep, steadying breath. It's okay. He's okay. It could be worse, he reminds himself. At least Blaine is happy. He can't recognize his husband, but he's happy, and that will just have to be enough for today.
Maybe tomorrow will be better, he thinks, tries not to hope too hard as he lifts his head, takes another deep breath, and turns the keys in the ignition.