After Blaine and Kurt's relationship became intimate, Blaine felt so much closer to Kurt in every imaginable way that he never expected Kurt to start to distance himself from him. He supposed, later, that it was because he didn't expect it to happen that it affected him so much when it did. And once things started on a slow descent downhill, it seemed like nothing could stop it from inevitably, violently, crashing to a halt.

Sometimes he thought it was his own fault, because he told Kurt to go to New York. Kurt didn't want to, at first. Well, he always wanted to, but he also didn't want to leave Blaine. He told him so one night while they pretended to study in Blaine's room and tried not to count down the minutes until his parents made him leave. Sunset. They always made him leave at sunset, like they were certain teenagers developed an insatiable lust for one another only once nighttime came.

"I'm not going to New York," Kurt had said that afternoon. "Not without you."

Blaine said he should, he had to. "It's just one year," he said, and Kurt just shook his head stubbornly and frowned at the page of homework they hadn't thought about for an instant since he'd gotten there and pulled it out of his bag.

So Blaine tried a different approach. He told him just to apply to NYADA, like Rachel already had, just to see if he'd get in. And if he did, if he really wanted to, maybe he could defer for a year. Blaine had absolutely no intention of letting him defer for a year, to stay behind while he finished high school. That was ridiculous. Kurt was amazing and beautiful and more talented than anyone else in the world. He couldn't stay back in Lima, and work part time retail, and help Blaine with his homework, if he could be starting the career Blaine knew Kurt couldn't live without. For whatever reason, Blaine was sure they'd be fine if they had to be separated for a year. He had no hesitation about it, that day, whatsoever.

And Kurt finally agreed with him. "Fine," he said. "I'll apply."

And with that, their relationship slipped downhill a little farther, without either of them knowing it.

The mere process of applying to NYADA seemed to make Kurt giddy with the idea of moving, which was good and oddly sad at the same time. Blaine kept telling himself this was a good thing, it was what they both wanted for Kurt, but his heart kept aching every time Kurt's eyes glazed over and he randomly interrupted whatever Blaine was saying with a certain amazing boutique Kurt just had to check out when he was in New York.

At first Blaine told himself, or bitterly admitted to himself, that he was jealous. But he doubted anyone could blame him. It was basically unfair that he had to be a year younger that Kurt, that Kurt was going to escape midwestern conservative hell and do and see everything a cultured and educated person could ever hope to do and see. Instead of relying solely on Blaine and Rachel, Kurt would instantaneously be surrounded by people who loved the things he loved, who would accept him unconditionally.

And it was the very day that Blaine was sure Kurt was going to forget about him the instant he got to New York, soulmates be damned, that Blaine found out about Chandler.

Well, he didn't find out everything about Chandler all in one day, but he knew Kurt had met someone who obviously delighted him in a way that, lately, only the thought of New York could delight him. It made Blaine feel ten times more dull to Kurt than he usually felt, which was already substantially dull. At first Blaine was sure he was just joke-texting someone in glee club, but then Kurt was texting in glee club, and no one in the room was replying, so the theory was dashed.

And when Blaine finally found the courage to ask in a perfectly executed, nonchalant tone who Kurt was texting, and Kurt said "no one," that he actually, physically felt their relationship fall off a cliff. Maybe it was a little cliff in the grand scheme of things, but never before that moment had Blaine ever thought he and Kurt would break up. Ever.

He remembered again Cooper and his mother laughing at how he and Kurt never had problems. He remembered his father saying he couldn't wait until their relationship was over. Was it possible they knew better than he did? How could he be so stupid, he wondered, and couldn't stop obsessively wondering it until he blew up at Kurt, sang a melodramatic song to him, and then made them go to counseling.

Tears were shed and promises were made. Kurt vowed never to text Chandler again, which wasn't really what Blaine wanted, but he wasn't brave enough to say so. Blaine didn't want to be the boyfriend who dictated which friends his significant other could keep, but apparently he'd turned into that boyfriend. And even though things with Kurt seemed to get better, he still felt, somewhere inside himself, as bad as he did since he told Kurt he could, and should, move away. He wasn't mad at Kurt for anything. He was mad at himself.

Eventually he realized he was obsessing, or obsessively waiting for the day Kurt left and he was alone, so he could wallow and rock back in forth in his room for a year, and it was a future for himself he really didn't want. So he remembered the Warblers. He always remembered the Warblers, but he remembered there had been a time that they constantly talked. Even for a while after Blaine transferred he could call any of them, at any time, about anything, and he realized then that he hadn't spoken to any of them for a couple of months.

He texted quite a few of them in quick succession, even those who had graduated. Wes, David, Thad, Nick, Jeff, Trent; he sent an individual message to all of them. Asked after their parents and siblings and girlfriends, remembering the names of all of them. Asked about school, or college, or whatever each one was doing. Talked about himself, a little bit, at least the good parts. Told every one of them he missed them, and Dalton too, which was true.

A week passed and not one of them had replied. Twelve days passed and he came out of French class to find a missed voicemail. It was Nick, who said in few words that he'd call back later. Fifteen days passed and he never did, and Blaine couldn't get him to answer his phone, either.

Three weeks after he sent the texts, with no real progress to speak of, he was frowning into his locker when Kurt ran up to him and stuck an envelope into his line of sight. It was his acceptance letter. Or his rejection letter. But Blaine was sure he'd been accepted.

"Come on," Kurt took his hand. "Rachel and I are opening our letters together in the choir room. I want you to be there with me."

Blaine let himself be led, feeling a little like his world was crashing down around him. "What about Finn?" he asked, without actually caring about the answer.

"We're not speaking to him right now," Kurt looked back at him. "He broke up with Rachel. Don't mention him or she'll burst into tears."

Blaine sat in one of the familiar, plastic maroon chairs while Kurt and Rachel literally squealed and jumped up and down together, clutching their unopened letters. Rachel said something half beautiful and half inappropriately ridiculous, something about how their lives could truly be starting at that very moment, as soon as they opened the envelopes. "This could be it," she said.

Kurt remembered Blaine was in the room then, and went to him. He sat in his lap, draped an arm over his shoulders and held that damn envelope right where Blaine couldn't help but see it. He put his own arms around Kurt's waist and sunk his chin into Kurt's shoulder. Maybe if he absolutely had to cry, Kurt's thick sweater would soak up his tears before anyone noticed.

"Don't be too cute," Rachel warned them. "I can't handle romance right now."

Blaine ignored her. Kurt rolled his eyes and said something about how he had said the same to her a year and a half ago.

They argued for a minute and finally decided to open their envelopes at the same time. Kurt ripped his open first, and he waited for Rachel to finish, so they could remove the letters at the same time, unfold them at the same time, and read them at the same time.

Blaine closed his eyes against Kurt's sweater. He didn't even want to see the font. He thought about himself and wondered who would sit with him and open college acceptance letters with him a year from then. Probably no one, because Kurt would be gone.

Neither of them spoke. He couldn't take the suspense anymore. He lifted his head and looked from Rachel's face to Kurt's. Both of them were pale, and staring at the words. Blaine didn't know if either of them had read good news or bad news. It was simply big, life changing news.

Kurt and Rachel looked at each other, finally, waiting for the other to speak first. Instead, together, they both said quietly, "I didn't get in."

And for one second Blaine was stupidly, horribly happy. His heart skipped a beat and his lungs felt like they might burst and his fantasy about opening his own letter now had Kurt in it, and Rachel too. Now all three of them could try together, next year, like Blaine felt in his heart it always should have been. He couldn't stand to be left out.

But it was only one second. Rachel was shaking her head, and tears spilled out of her eyes, but instead of lying down and dying, like Blaine was afraid she might, she took Kurt by the collar and looked deep into his eyes and said, "We are going anyway."

And without knowing why, or how, Blaine found himself nodding. And he said, "Yes, you are."

And Kurt looked back and forth between them, and smiled through his tears, and asked Rachel, "We are?"

And Rachel and Blaine both said, "Yes."

"We are," Rachel said.

"You are," Blaine said.

Before he knew it, like only enough time to blink had passed, Blaine found himself in the audience in the auditorium, sitting next to Burt and Carole, waiting to watch Kurt graduate. Kurt and Rachel were mostly packed, their flight booked, an apartment picked out and a deposit already paid for. Kurt had sold one of his favorite jackets on eBay to pay for his half. It was a jacket he'd worn on one of their first dates. He'd sold it easily, happily, without regret. Blaine couldn't stop thinking about it.

Burt shifted in his seat next to him. They'd never really talked, not really. They exchanged pleasantries with each other, but never more than five words since Blaine told him to talk to Kurt about sex. He knew at the time it would probably make things weird and difficult, but he was too naive then to realize it would probably make things weird and difficult forever. It was a shame, because Kurt seemed to think Burt was the greatest father on earth, and Blaine would have probably almost died for the tiniest bit of similar attention. The mere thought of an adult man telling Blaine he didn't judge him and that everything would be okay seemed too good to be true. It still seemed too good to be true, with Burt fidgeting next to him at graduation, obviously trying to think of something to say. Blaine figured it would be about the weather.

"You sure are quiet today," it turned out to be instead.

Blaine looked at him and decided to be honest. He'd always been honest, for whatever reason, with Burt. "I'm sad that Kurt's leaving."

Burt laughed humorlessly through his nose. "Me too." He sighed, like he was about to say something he didn't want to. "Blaine… I wanted to thank you. For convincing Kurt to go to New York. I know it wasn't… in your best interest. It's not in mine, either. But I do think it'll be good for him, you know. To get out of here."

Blaine nodded. He couldn't say Burt was welcome, that would be weird. So he just nodded. That was the end of the conversation.

As all the seniors Blaine had never really known paraded through the auditorium, he wondered if Burt loved his son too much to ever really accept him. Maybe he would always believe it was Blaine who took Kurt away from him. It seemed funny, because Blaine felt like something else was taking Kurt away from him. He felt powerless over it, and blamed for it, at the same time.

When he saw Kurt's face on the other side of the huge room, making his way toward the stage, he couldn't help the tears that welled up in his eyes. When Kurt was close enough to see Blaine, he smiled, and tried to be genuinely happy about being a part of such an important moment in his boyfriend's life. But when Kurt joined his friends on stage, celebrating being finished with high school and ready to leave it all behind, he couldn't help but frown again, and hate it. The senior glee club members were singing and playing music, but all Blaine could hear was his own blood pounding in his ears.

There was a party held afterwards at the Hummel-Hudson house, where the whole glee club filled the basement and ate pizza and screamed, just like normal. Blaine continued to not say much, except when necessary. He was sure his heart was breaking. Maybe a piece of it would fall out of his mouth if he said too much.

At some point Kurt led him upstairs to his room and shut the door behind them. "It's our last night in this room!"

"Oh," Blaine said and deflated even more than he'd already been.

"No, it's a good thing!" Kurt smiled, and Blaine couldn't help but give a sad smile back. He was so happy. "No more sneaking around! I technically have my own apartment already. We just can't go there for a few more days."

"But I'm going to miss sneaking around with you. I'm going to miss this room."

"It's not forever, Blaine," Kurt said, and Blaine hated himself more. Now Kurt was worried. He'd stopped him from being happy. "I'll stay here every time I visit next year, and after that we'll come back every holiday, and sleep next to each other in my tiny twin bed until we're fifty and maybe we'll be too fat to fit then. Or maybe by then we'll host all the holidays at our place." He grinned.

"Maybe," Blaine agreed, but he couldn't keep the pretense up. "Kurt… I have to… I have to go home."

"Why? Don't you want to go back downstairs? Or we could stay up here, and hide from everyone, if you want. Are you sick?"

"No," Blaine shook his head, and felt like falling to pieces. "Yes, maybe. I don't know."

Kurt heard the break in his voice and instinctively pulled Blaine against him, holding him close. He even rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. Patient as ever, he waited for Blaine to say something first.

"I just don't want anything to change," Blaine whispered finally. "I don't want to be left behind. I don't want you to not be here when I might need you. What if I absolutely need to touch you, and talking to you just won't make it better?"

"But I thought you wanted me to go," Kurt said uncertainly.

"I do!" he said, as passionately as he felt it. "I do. But I don't want to stay here without you."

"I won't go if you don't want me to…"

"That's why you have to go," Blaine said. "I wouldn't want you here every day if I knew you secretly resented me for making you wait."

"Maybe I shouldn't. I knew I shouldn't a few months ago. How could I live with myself if I left you here and you had to go back to the hospital?" Kurt pulled away from him, looking more worried than ever. He chewed his lip in thought.

"Kurt—" Blaine began, not knowing how he could talk him back into it, especially now, when all he wanted was the opposite.

"It's not like I'm leaving you behind in perfect condition," Kurt ignored him, beginning to pace. "You're sick. There's something wrong with you, and until we know what it is and how to treat it I shouldn't leave you. Oh my God," he sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. "Being rejected from NYADA was probably a sign. I shouldn't go."

"No," Blaine said feebly. "It wasn't a sign. You belong there."

"Why did I listen to Rachel? I should have listened to you."

"I said the same thing Rachel said. We both want you to go. Look," Blaine swallowed hard, resolved to convince him to go, remembering Burt thanking him for doing it the first time. "What would your father say if you told him you're staying for me?"

"I don't care," Kurt answered, and Blaine knew that wasn't true.

"You do care. He would say you were making a big mistake. He'd say if you stay another year, what's to keep you from staying five or ten years? If you get stuck here you may never leave. You could ruin your whole life."

Kurt stopped pacing and just stared at him. He obviously didn't know what to do, or say.

"What if we promise, at first, to call each other twice a day?" Blaine tried to smile but it felt ridiculous.

But Kurt seemed to buy it. He smiled back, small and unsure. "Morning and night?"

"Then you'll know I'm okay, I made it through the night and the day, and I'll know you're okay, too."

"I'll be fine," Kurt said, certain.

"I will be, too. I just want to be sure."

With that, the New York plans were set back on track. Burt would drive Kurt, Rachel, and Blaine to the airport, they'd spend the weekend. Blaine would help carry things, (or decorate, or something, Kurt said), and when they were settled Blaine would go back, and leave them both behind.

With only two days until they were set to leave, Kurt showed up at Blaine's house to check on his packing progress.

"I don't need to bring as much as you do," Blaine said when Kurt made a face at the one bag he planned on bringing, half empty and abandoned near his closet. "I'll only be there two nights. It doesn't require a lot."

Kurt sighed and sat on the bed next to him. "I can't believe your parents are letting you come with us for the weekend."

"They just want us to break up. They're sure it'll happen once you go. They don't mind letting us have a goodbye weekend if it means… we'll be separated in the end." He could hardly get the last part out. He told himself he had to keep it together. It wasn't fair to Kurt to pull him in two different directions. There was no use in getting into the same conversation all over again. He swallowed dryly and stared at his hands in his lap, lost in his own misery. "The last time we'll be in this room, too, I guess."

"Which is a good thing," Kurt nodded, quietly encouraging Blaine to agree with him. "It's not like either of us had any fun hiding from them. Anyway, I wanted us to say goodbye to your room last. This is where…" he trailed off.

"Where we had our first kiss," Blaine finished for him.

"And where we made love, the first time. And both times since then. I mean, it was only a couple of months ago, but… I just can't do it at my dad's house. We're too close. I think he'd know as soon as we came out of the room. I think he already does know every time I come home from here, but…" Kurt stopped babbling and stared into the distance with a faint hint of nausea on on his face.

Blaine sighed and his shoulders drooped even farther.

Kurt looked at him and smiled again. "But I have my own room in my own apartment in New York! I mean, Rachel will be there, of course, but she doesn't count."

And I'll still be in this room, Blaine thought, where we used to kiss and make love, and try to fall asleep every single night, all alone.

"Obviously her opinion doesn't matter," Kurt went on, when Blaine was obviously frowning too hard to reply to him.

But Blaine couldn't make himself laugh at the joke. He couldn't even crack a smile. He barely heard a word Kurt said.

Kurt decided to try a new approach. He kissed Blaine at the corner of his lips, where he could reach the easiest from sitting next to him on the bed. Blaine turned and kissed him back. No amount of sadness was going to keep him from kissing Kurt, or from pretending all the while that maybe he could project his love so strongly through the kiss that he could stop time and melt into his boyfriend and cease to exist, which he thought at that moment was probably his number one wish. It seemed the best outcome of all possible outcomes.

Kurt had just turned to touch him, had just grazed his fingertips over Blaine's knee, when there was a sharp knock at the door. Kurt jumped back from him.

"Blaine?" Cooper asked from the other side.

Blaine sighed. "Is this really happening again? Why are you here? Go away."

"Why should I?"

"I'm with Kurt."

"Are you wearing clothes?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "No," he snapped.

Kurt laughed into his hand.

"Nice work, little brother."

Kurt laughed harder. Trying to be silent, he put his face into one of Blaine's pillows.

"So go away," Blaine said, trying to be sympathetic that Cooper was exceptionally dimwitted and needed the clarification.

"I'm supposed to tell you to keep the door open. No, I was supposed to tell you that an hour ago. Now I'm supposed to tell you it's time for Kurt to go home."

Blaine looked at the window. "Because the sun went down?" he asked spitefully. "No. He's not going home yet. I don't want him to."

Kurt emerged from the pillow and took one of Blaine's hands in both of his. He kissed the tips of Blaine's fingers and looked up at him with his pretty blue eyes and said, "I probably should…"

Blaine stared at him.

"I don't think Mom and Dad will accept no for an answer. Should I say—"

"Fine," Blaine said to Kurt, stood quickly from the bed, and stomped to the door. He pulled it open with too much force and gestured Kurt should leave. "Then go."

Kurt frowned. "I just meant that I don't want to cause any problems with your parents. I don't want to make them angry…"

"Thank you for considering their feelings," Blaine said coldly, and decided to stare at the wall instead of look at Kurt. He still held the door open, still waiting for him to go.

Cooper stood in the hall, looking back and forth at them, confused.

Kurt hesitated a moment, waiting for Blaine to say something else, to apologize, but he didn't. So Kurt stood, and pressed the wrinkles out of his trousers with the palms of his hands, and almost left without another word passing between them.

But before he'd made it all the way into the hall, Blaine pulled him back by the wrist and pulled him into his arms. Kurt hugged him back, and Blaine knew he wasn't angry, just confused and a little hurt.

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered into his ear, and bit his tongue hard after that so as not to completely fall apart. So he wouldn't start sobbing, or fall to his knees and beg Kurt not to leave.

"It's too late to change my mind now, Blaine," Kurt whispered back.

"I know." Blaine buried his nose into Kurt's shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut.

"You convinced me it's for the best."

"I know."

"We'll be okay. You'll handle it better than you think you can now."

"I know."

Kurt rubbed his back for a second. "I'll see you tomorrow. Dad wants to leave at 8."

"Okay," Blaine took a deep, shaking breath.

Kurt let him go, stepping back a little to smile at him. His eyes were dry, but Blaine's were flooded with tears.

"I love you," Kurt said.

Blaine nodded as Kurt turned and made his way down the stairs, to the front door. He couldn't speak. Cooper was still standing there, with his arms crossed over his stomach, watching them like a particularly compelling television show.

Blaine backed up and shut the door in his face.