A/N: I wrote this because I told my friend that I was going to write something fluffy and light and I just love to torture them. :D This is not light and fluffy, please don't be fooled. Also note, I have been posting some old works of mine, but this is recent.
TW- past death
Twelfth Anniversary
"Hey, Kurt," Blaine says as he walks over, lips smiling around the name. He sets the bag he was carrying down first and then finds a place for himself to sit.
Sitting on the ground wasn't his favorite, especially so early in the morning because the light dew was still hanging onto each blade of grass, and he's forgotten their blanket so now his butt really was going to get wet. Which was fine because he didn't have any other plans today, so he didn't have to look presentable to anyone else. He knew that Kurt understood.
It was his and Kurt's twelfth year anniversary and just like every year before then, he came prepared. The twelfth year is linen- or silk-themed, so he had the perfect gift for his husband. It was a silk, light blue, neckerchief that matched the color of his eyes; Blaine even knew what outfit he'd wear it with - it is a pair of off-white, almost blue, glitter sequin pants with a simple white button up top. His hair would be done up, standing upwards from his forehead, and his long pale neck would be elegantly wrapped in the piece of silk that Blaine held in his hands.
"It's nice, isn't it?" Blaine asks, presenting the gift to him. The fabric was warm from where he was still holding onto it. His smile grows bigger and he doesn't even have to hear Kurt's answer to know what it will be, Of course it is, you picked it out.
Blaine sets the gift in front of him and reaches into the bag that he brought. There were packages of food that Rachel had helped him prepare this morning - just little things like cheese, crackers, little sandwiches with the crusts cut off - but he ignored those for now and went for the wine bottle.
The two wine glasses that he pulls out clink together harshly and he looks up at Kurt quickly and guiltily lifts up half of his mouth and one shoulder. "Oops," he breaths, "I'll be more careful now though. You don't have to worry."
He sets the two glasses on a relatively flat surface and turns the bottle of wine over in his hands. Allegrini Amarone della Valpolicella Classico, just like they had on the date they went on two days after Blaine's 21st birthday, when they were both legally able to drink. Kurt had wanted to celebrate by both of them having their first drink of wine together and it was so fruity and bitter, a nice blend. Then Kurt had bought the entire seventy dollar bottle to take home with them, but Blaine had accidentally knocked it off the counter and it tumbled to the floor and broke. Instead of drinking wine while being naked in bed, the two of them stayed up late that night trying to get the dark purple stain from the wooden floor so they would get back their safety deposit from the landlord.
"I won't spill any this time, promise," Blaine whispers, lips softening from the memory. He hopes that his husband could hear the playfulness in his voice.
He doesn't remember if Kurt had gotten mad at him or not that night. He doesn't think so, but it was so long ago it seems that it's hard for him to remember the details. It hadn't even been an anniversary or anything, just a regular date night for the two of them.
He just remembers them both going to work the next morning with slightly stained hands and a new favorite memory while he pours a little bit of the liquid in both glasses. Blaine's favorite memories are always the most recent ones that they made because he loves the idea of growing old with someone. He lifts his own glass up and brings it to his lips.
They have tasted a lot of wines since that first drink, a lot of expensive brands from other countries, but for some reason, Blaine can't remember tasting anything better than this one. It might be because it was their first wine together; or maybe it's because they won't ever taste a different one again.
His heart twinges at the bitter thought as the fingertips of his free hand reach out to trace the engraved stone in front of him. He pushes them away, though, because today isn't about being sad - it's their twelfth anniversary, after all.
"It still tastes as good, Kurt."
A/N: Please leave your opinions; good or bad! Constructive criticism is always welcomed!