Our Love is All We Need to Make it Through // KLAINE

Chapter Twenty Two

*** WARNING: THIS CHAPTER MAY BE TRIGGERING. DEPRESSION AND SUICIDE ARE DESCRIBED HERE, PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION. ***

*Blaine Anderson*

Kurt's chest rises and falls underneath my head as we lay, a book propped in front of my face as I lay down on his bed, reading. My head rests on his chest, his soft breaths soothing, the only sound other than my iPod playing quietly on his iPod Dock on his dresser.

Kurt's eyes are closed, almost falling into a light sleep, judging by his deep breathing.

"Blaine," Kurt says suddenly. I finish the sentence I am reading, then close the book and settle it next to me on his bed. When he doesn't continue to speak, I sit up slightly, propping myself up onto my elbow to look at him. He is gnawing on the inside of his cheek, looking distraught.

"What is it?" I ask softly, troubled by the look Kurt is wearing.

Kurt intakes a shaky breath, then sits up, dangling his legs over the edge of his bed, his back to me.

I move so I am sitting next to him, peering at him curiously. "Kurt, what's the matter?" I grab his hand in effort to calm him.

A panicked thought can't help but cross my mind. What if he doesn't love me?

It's such a stupid, angsty, selfish thing to assume. It isn't as if all Kurt's life does is revolve around his relationship with me. However, ever since he told me he loved me at Sectionals, he's been apprehensive to say it back, as if it's a lie. I do my best to ignore it, but in actuality, it's what nags at me day in and day out.

"I don't want to ruin our perfect day." Kurt says after a long moment, shaking his head, as if clearing the negative thoughts out of his mind, convincing himself not to voice his worries. This is a gesture he does often. It makes me wonder what really goes on in Kurt's mind.

Kurt, generally speaking, is happy around me. He smiles, he laughs, he is animated while speaking. But I'm not an idiot. I can tell when he is hiding something away, when he replaces a real smile with a fake one. Of course, it isn't an all the time thing, but it happens often enough that it makes me worry about him. I can see bits and pieces of the real Kurt slipping through whatever barrier he has built up around himself.

I've almost asked him numerous times, more times than I can count on both hands, but I never really come out and ask him what he's hiding. I've hinted at it, subtly asked, but Kurt strategically evades the questions.

Lately, however, it seems inevitable.

There's almost an invisible wall between us, keeping us apart. Whatever the reason behind it is, I don't like it. Kurt is the best thing in my life, the thing I look forward to after a long day, the one thing that's for sure. And I can't lose him.

"Don't worry about it," I say, coming back to reality, where Kurt is avoiding my gaze. "Seriously, what is it?"

Kurt responds with a curt shake of his head, more determined this time. "It's nothing." he plasters one of his almost-perfected fake smiles onto his face. If I didn't know him as well as I do, it could pass for the real deal.

I open my mouth to speak, but Kurt interrupts me by pressing his lips firmly against my own, colliding in a clash of teeth and tongues.

His palm rests on my thigh, his other holding the back of my head. I wrap a hand around his waist and pull him close to me, breathing in his scent, savoring every moment as if it's our last.

I am the one to pull away, our foreheads leaned together, our arms still not moving their position. "Kurt," I murmur. "Please, what's bothering you?"