Kurt is sitting at their kitchen table, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, when Blaine pads into the room. His hands tighten ever-so-slightly around the mug as he looks up at the sound of his husband.
"There's fresh coffee," Kurt says simply, his low voice sounding still too loud in the unsettling stillness of the kitchen air.
"Thanks," Blaine murmurs quietly, grabs himself a mug and makes his way to the coffee maker to pour himself a cup.
Kurt doesn't say anything else. What is there to say? He fucked up. He fucked up and it's in Blaine's hands now, and he doesn't know what he can say to make this better.
Everything he does just seems to make things worse.
Blaine joins him at the table, sits down across from him and takes a sip from his mug before placing it on the table in front of him and wrapping his arms around himself. Kurt watches him carefully, and it takes a moment before Blaine finally looks up to meet Kurt's eyes. They're a sea of emotion, but Kurt still can't quite tell what Blaine is thinking.
Once upon a time, Kurt and Blaine could have an entire conversation with just their eyes.
He shouldn't be surprised with where they are now. Had he really expected that he could have that for forever? After all they've been through?
He's never been that lucky.
"I want you to come to therapy with me." Blaine's tone is sad, defeated, a little desperate.
Kurt bites the inside of his cheek. This is… better than he'd expected, if he's being honest. He'd been up all night worried, convinced Blaine would wake up this morning and tell him to leave. And if he's even more honest, he couldn't have blamed him. Because it's not just this, it's not just the kiss, it's everything over the last year. So that Blaine wants Kurt to go to therapy with him means he still wants to try.
On the other hand… it's therapy. And Kurt has tried that. They have tried that. It didn't work then, so while Kurt knows the intention is good he has a hard time imagining it working now.
"Blaine," he starts, carefully, because he doesn't want Blaine to think he doesn't want to try, but he really, really doesn't think this is the answer, "we've tried that. I don't think–"
Blaine doesn't let him finish before he's speaking again. "I want you to come to therapy with me, or I can't do this anymore, Kurt."
Blaine's voice is harder now, an edge to it.
"You can't…"
"This isn't working. I know it and you know it. It hasn't been for a long time. And I can't… Kurt, I can't keep doing this if you're not going to try." Blaine's voice is watery, he sounds on the verge of tears, but he manages to keep it level.
"I know, I will try, Blaine, I promise, I just don't–"
"No, Kurt. This is it. This isn't… I'm tired, Kurt," Blaine interrupts again, voice breaking on Kurt's name. "I'm tired, and I love you, so much, but I can't keep doing this. I'm sorry. It's this or it's nothing."
Blaine really is crying now, but he continues to hold Kurt's gaze. It's like a challenge and a plea all at once, and he loves this man, has loved this man for so long, has been through hell with this man and he can't lose him. Especially not like this.
They've lost far too much already.
"Okay," he agrees, because there really is no other option.
He'll try. He'll try because he loves Blaine, and because he can't stand to lose him, can't lose what feels like the only real thing he has left. And, really, Blaine deserves better than Kurt, better than what Kurt can give him, but for reasons Kurt can't possibly fathom Blaine still, somehow, wants him, too. So, Kurt will try to be what Blaine wants, what he needs, what he deserves, for as long as Blaine will have him.