Hi! So, this is my first attempt at a Fanfic. I'd really appreciate some feedback - be it a review or just constructive criticism, it'll all be graciously accepted. I love Glee, especially the Klaine pairing. I think they're adorable and I hope I've done them justice. This isn't a one-shot, by the way. I have envisioned it to be a multi-chapter fic, so please tell me if you'd like to read more of it! Oh, and thank you for reading!

And just so nobody is confused - this is set after the break-up.

There are many things in life that one should be afraid of – some of those things are daily occurrences and cannot be controlled or defeated. Then there are the type of fears whose existence people are divided on yet they all agree that if they did exist, they would be best left alone and not interfered with; for example, an alien invasion, Nessie and what would happen to mankind if Rachel Berry had a twin.

A Kurt Hummel scorned falls into that category. Not many people were aware that his temper could be that bad, but you can bet your bottom dollar if they did, they'd be less that inclined to offer him a shoulder to cry on. Truth be told, it wasn't very often that he got this truly, exhaustively pissed, but he could and he currently was and that was probably one of the reasons why the people he loved were more than a little cautious to approach him with sympathy and a giant heart shaped cookie. There were only two instances before that had caused him this more frustration and all out grief – the day his mother died and the first ever time he had been denounced due to his sexuality. All in all, he was pretty good when it came to controlling his anger; however, there were certain subjects that caused his anger and emotions to take on a life of their own. Blaine Anderson just happened to be one of those subjects. And Blaine Anderson cheating was definitely one of those subjects.

Those very three words in the same sentence, Blaine Anderson and cheating, still didn't seem real, but unfortunately for Kurt and his heart, they were reality. It had been three and a half weeks since Blaine had surprised Kurt in New York with a bouquet of roses and an uneasy air about him. Kurt knows Blaine better than anyone - or so he thought; he knew straight away that there was something wrong. But looking back on it for what felt like the millionth time, all of the things that had flooded Kurt's mind, reasons why Blaine might have been acting strangely, all seemed so…innocent. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine he would be standing in front of his perfect boyfriend and hearing the words, "I was with someone". It still felt like a bad dream. But it wasn't and that made the hurt all the worse.

One hundred percent of his anger wasn't levelled at Blaine though; a little more than half was aimed at himself. Blaine had cheated. He had gone behind his back and did the most heinous of crimes that a partner could commit. And Kurt knew all too well that if it were anybody else that had done that to him he would have pushed them straight out of his life and dealt with the pain and anger in a more mature and positive way, and sooner or later he would just get on with his life and start anew. But because Blaine wasn't just anybody, Kurt knew that it wasn't going to be that easy – if at all possible, if the past three weeks were anything to go by. Blaine was Blaine, his Blaine, his everything. He had been his first boyfriend, his first love; he had been his first lover. Kurt had given Blaine everything from his heart and soul, to his body and ultimate trust and he had betrayed him in ways that he couldn't express. All Kurt wanted to do was stop thinking about that and focus on moving on with his life – he was living in New York City, his dream had come true. He was working for Vogue magazine and was making a great start to life in his most beloved passion – fashion. He wanted nothing more than to let those wonderful thoughts swamp his mind but all he could think about was Blaine.

He hated himself for what he was doing to himself, but it felt like he had no control. He still slept in Blaine's shirt and he couldn't bring himself to throw away any of his belongings, although he pretended he had done so to show his family he was just fine and not the blubbering mess that he actually was. He could still hear Blaine's voice ringing in his ears – that sweet, sultry voice that sent shivers running through him. He hated to admit it, but he could still feel Blaine's touch in his sleep. The way his hands would smooth down his hips, his fingers stroking his skin with should tenderness and care; how his lips were like magnets to Kurt's most sensitive areas and how Blaine knew every movement and whisper that would reduce Kurt to putty in his hands. They weren't the touches of irrelevance or forgery; they were the touches of love and honesty. And that was undoubtedly what hurt the most - he knew Blaine loved him. That's what made him cheating should a difficult thing to comprehend. The love they had wasn't puppy love or a false esteem; it was a real heart swelling passion that Kurt didn't know could occur between two people until he met Blaine. And it wasn't like Kurt couldn't understand someone else wanting Blaine, of course he could. Blaine was incredibly handsome and sincere. His passion for the things he loved – the ones he loved, was admirable. That was one of the many reasons Kurt loved being Blaine's boyfriend, it meant that somebody else couldn't be and as cruel as that sounded, it made Kurt feel special. No one had ever looked upon him as sexy or desirable – well apart from Chandler, but that was a total mistake. Blaine made him feel wanted and appreciated. It was a feeling Kurt would never get bored of. But knowing he had cheated made that feeling turn on its head and it was beginning to work in reverse. He was beginning to feel needy and, though the thought of it still made him blush like a virgin, he was yearning for Blaine to touch him again. Somewhere, anywhere…screw that, everywhere. He wanted him more than ever and it was becoming an annoyance and a problem. And that was what lead him back to the place he had been all the past three and half weeks – hopelessness aka square one.

He couldn't face Blaine, he didn't want to and then again, he did. It was utterly confusing and it was giving him headaches and heartaches that were none too pretty. He had to come home. As great as New York was, he couldn't stay there and suffer while Rachel continued to bellow in his ear about how horrible Blaine was and how crappy relationships are and how love is so over-rated. He didn't want to be bitter, especially to Rachel – she was, after all, one of his best friends. But what Rachel and Finn had, whatever it was, it wasn't love. Heck, if Kurt knew anything about love, Rachel and Finn didn't even have a relationship. They were so on again and off again, it was a rollercoaster of chaos and it was bound to end with someone in tears. Kurt and Blaine were never on again, off again – Kurt hated that, as did Blaine. They were very much on, and although they fought and disagreed and sometimes couldn't make time for each other due to their respective commitments, they were always a couple. But Kurt needed some space and time to think about things and himself in general and the only place he felt he could do that in was home. Of course it was painful knowing that Blaine wasn't too far away and it would be easy to just get up and go find him, but he wouldn't, he promised himself he wouldn't.

It didn't help that earlier Sam had dropped off a box of Kurt's things that Blaine had placed askew in his bedroom. Sam had dropped them off to Finn at Blaine's request because, according to Sam, Blaine wasn't exactly jumping at the idea of meeting Burt and the double-barrelled end of his shotgun. Kurt had told Finn to tell Sam to tell Blaine that he didn't want to see him or have anything to do with him – though it wasn't close to the truth, he felt the need to keep his walls up. Blaine wasn't going to intervene when Kurt said no, he wasn't like that. Finn had done the brotherly thing and opted to throw the stuff away without Kurt seeing them if he wished, but Kurt refused stating it would be best if he did it, to get closure and all that. You could pretty much guess that the box of various items didn't even make it close to the trashcan. Instead it was hidden under his bed where it couldn't be found by anyone other than himself. He pulled out the scuffed up fruit crate from under his bed and began to sift through its contents. He had gone through all of this stuff almost a dozen times before, but if seemed that, as of right now at least, this was the closest he was going to get or allow himself to get to Blaine. Staring down at the various framed photographs, some from prom two years ago when Kurt had humiliatingly won prom queen surfaced from the clutter, and picking them up he began to reminisce on the night. It could have been the worst night of his life – public humiliation in front of the entire school, but thanks to his quick wit and Blaine's calm reassurance they made it a night to remember. Smiling slightly at the voice in his head, 'Why can't I dance with the person I love at my prom?' Back then, it had seemed as close to impossible as one can get for a gay couple to dance at the school prom, but thanks to Blaine, that had happened.

Another photograph, this time one of him in his Dalton Academy uniform poked through the bundle and Kurt's stomach flipped. This was the first photograph of Kurt that Blaine had asked to keep; and because it had special significance to him, he had made a special place for it on the right bed-side table – or as Kurt more familiarly called it, his side of the bed. He vividly remembered waking up the morning after they slept together for the first time and it being the first thing that had caught his eye.

After some time, the box was finally empty, all apart from a small stack of loose photographs and a rolled up piece of paper with an elastic band around it. Picking it up to examine it, Kurt could feel something hard hiding in the middle with the paper wrapped around it like a present. Kurt identified Blaine's elegant handwriting on the wrinkled paper immediately. Pulling the elastic band from around the paper he unfurled it unwrapping a ring box from underneath it. Straining his eyes, he tried to read the writing that had been scribbled over. He could plainly make out his name written several times. However, the rest was too difficult to read. That was until he turned the page around. Written there, again in Blaine's elegant script was a paragraph, again, starting with his name.

"Kurt. I don't know if I tell that I love you enough, but, I do, a lot; probably too much. I thought that I could somehow find a way to make it through this year with you not being here and come out the other end stronger and more mature. But the truth is it hurts so badly. Having to wake up every morning knowing I'm not going to find you right there beside me or waiting for me in the living room or in the parking lot – it makes my days just that little bit harder. Not being able to physically touch you, see you when I want; having to schedule a time to talk to you, I don't know how much longer I can go through that without going crazy. Kurt, you give me something to believe in. I didn't know that this could be real, this feeling of needing someone so badly that it physically pains. You have given me something to work for and dream about. You have given me a future. And I want that future to be with you. I'm not perfect and I've made mistakes and I'll continue to make mistakes but I know in my heart that, as human as I am, there's something about what I have with you that is out of this world. Kurt there's one way, just one way that I'm going to get through this year…

I've bought the ring, now I just need an answer. Are we ready?"

Kurt was sure his heart wasn't beating. His breath had hitched in his throat and his hands were trembling. Blaine was proposing…

"This doesn't make any sense" he whispered, a tear slowly streaking down his cheek. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, he finally realised he was holding the ring box in that hand; the box that was holding his potential engagement ring.