The room was grey, the early morning sky taking on a slate color outside the windows of the bedroom. The clock read just before 5:30 AM and the city was numb, hovering in limbo between the night life and early morning traffic. The city wasn't the only thing that was numb.

Blaine lay naked under the sheets with Nathanial spooning against his back, one arm draped across Blaine's nude waist. His eyes were glazed over, empty of spirit. He had been staring at the wall for hours unable to sleep, unable to think, barely able to breathe. He lay awake stewing in his guilt, renewing a wave of dread each and every time he closed his eyes or even so much as blinked.

Nate nuzzled the back of Blaine's neck in his sleep, sighing contentedly as he cuddled against his back. He had been doing that every once in a while once he had finally fallen asleep and it made Blaine feel that much worse. Nate was content, happy, floating on cloud nine. Blaine felt like scum; worse than scum, he felt like a monster. He came to Nate with the sole purpose of using his body to forget. To forget his feelings for Kurt, to forget about the way Kurt moaned against his skin, to forget about what he had done. He thought the only way for him to forget about Kurt was to convince himself that he was in love with Nate, to make himself love Nate at whatever cost. He used Nate, it was selfish and he knew it. A tear trailed down the bridge of his nose and fell onto the pillow under his head.

Unable to bear the self-inflicted torture any longer, as quietly and carefully as he could, he moved Nate's arm from his waist and untangled their legs. He slowly slid away from Nate, edging himself off the bed as to not wake the sleeping man. He didn't stir. Blaine rose from the bed and squinted in the dim light, trying to find his clothes where they had been flung about the room a few hours ago. He had to search the room, treading the floor on silent feet. His clothes were intermixed with Nate's and trailed from the bedroom and down the hall. He dressed as he went, as quickly and quietly as he possibly could. He found his shirt last, piled in a heap in the hallway, the wrinkles already set in. He shrugged into his shirt and buttoned it up, not bothering to tuck it in. He peeked through the doorway to the bedroom and found Nate just as he left him, fast asleep with a smile on his face. Blaine's stomach felt heavy at the sight, another lead block of guilt crushing his chest.

He left the bedroom doorway, leaving Nate alone in the bed and tiptoed down the hallway and out the front door as quietly as he could, clicking the doorknob in place with the slightest sound. He let out the breath he had been holding and shakily took in a fresh lungful of air to clear his brain.

Blaine shuffled out of the apartment building and began walking down the sidewalk, not willing to wait there for a cab. He needed to be doing something, standing on the side of the curb alone with only his thoughts waiting for a cab would do nothing for his raging emotions. He ignored the looks he received from early risers who were out for a morning run or were taking their dogs out for a walk before they went to work. He knew he must look like hell, he sure as hell felt like it. His whole body felt dirty, a layer of invisible grit and guilt coating his skin. He could feel his hair sticking up in all directions and his clothes had been in a heap on the floor multiple times tonight so they were wrinkled beyond belief. But as bad as he looked, he felt a thousand times worse.

The sound of car tires filled his ears and he turned just in time to hail a yellow cab as it barreled down the street. The tires squealed on the pavement as it came to a stop next to Blaine. He slid into the back seat and issued his address to the cabbie as he pulled away from the curb. Blaine sank into the cushion of the seat of the cab and let out a heavy sigh, letting his head fall back against the headrest.

"Rough night?" the cab driver grunted, taking in Blaine's appearance through the rear-view mirror.

"You have no idea," Blaine croaked, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

The cab ride only took a few minutes, just enough time for Blaine to run through the night's events and stir up a whole new wave of depression. He felt sick, enough to where he felt as if he would vomit. He pinched the bridge of his nose to keep the tears from spilling over and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Cold shower, coffee, tums, and aspirin," the cab driver said, "best way to beat hangovers I've come across."

"Thanks for the advice," Blaine muttered, trying to keep the exasperation from seeping into his voice. If only a hangover was the worst of his problems.

"No problem," the cabbie replied pulling the taxi over to the curb, "here we are."

Blaine stepped out of the cab and handed the driver his fare, muttering a quick thanks to the pleasant man. He dragged his feet up the stairs and into the building, stepping into the elevator just as the doors were closing. He pushed the number to his floor and slumped against the wall, hitting his head on the metal. His head did hurt, though he couldn't be sure if it was from the alcohol last night or the mental and emotional stress he brought on himself. Maybe the cabbie was right, aspirin was definitely a good idea.

The elevator ride to his floor was short but not short enough for Blaine who just wanted to melt into the wall and stop feeling. The doors opened and his neighbor stood waiting just outside. She took one look at him and had to hide the cringe she made with a fake smile.

"Good morning," she chirped stepping into the elevator as he left it.

Blaine grunted and stalked away from the woman. He had never had to experience the walk of shame the morning after, but he was pretty sure he felt it now. Shame, guilt, depression, nausea, hurt, soreness, self-loathing, filth: he felt them all as he opened the door to his empty apartment. He flicked on the light and squinted, the brightness hurting his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was the vase of flowers on the center island of his kitchen and he felt light-headed; Nate had given him those. He took deep breaths and cleared his head, he really needed aspirin or maybe just another hard drink. He left his kitchen and went into his bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. It was already creased, so he rolled it up and threw it on the bed, followed by his pants soon after. He grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom, he felt dirty and needed a shower desperately.

As soon as he turned on the light in the bathroom and saw his reflection in the mirror, he almost choked on his tongue. He shook his head and did a double take, letting his reflection sink in. His hair was sticking up in all different directions, no rhyme or reason to any of the dark curls as they wildly jutted up from his scalp. His eyes had bags under them from not sleeping, but his face wasn't why he wanted to shatter the mirror into a million pieces and never look at his reflection again. His lips were red and swollen to be sure, but that's not what really drew his attention. Bruises. Everywhere.

A few small circles of light purple dotted his upper arms and shoulders, those he knew were Nate's. The rest belonged to Kurt. Dark purple bruises blotched over his neck, faint bruised teeth marks still visible on the flesh. The bruises didn't stop at his neck, they trailed to his collarbones and down his chest ending at his hips with finger marks and hickeys where Kurt had dug his fingers in and sucked at the flesh. He turned around to study his back in the mirror and saw raw scratch marks raked over his shoulders and all the way down his spine.

He looked at every bruise and could feel Kurt's mouth against his skin, he could feel Kurt's breath ghosting against his flesh. Goosebumps raised over his arms as he studied the bruises in the mirror, memories of Kurt's apartment flooded his head. The touches, the heated kisses, the passion, the sighs, the moans, Kurt whispering his name… He felt everything Kurt did to him, he felt the kisses and the touches he had been drunk off the passion and the heat of Kurt's body.

He felt nothing with Nate, just the physical. It was just sex, emotionless sex. Blaine used it to try and forget about how it felt to have Kurt in his arms again, to have Kurt sigh his name in the darkness, but it didn't. It just brought a painful point to Blaine's realization. He loved Kurt. Not just lingering feelings left over from years ago. He still felt the passion, he still loved Kurt with all his heart. Any feelings he had for Nate were abysmal compared to the white hot intensity of what he felt for Kurt. And here he was in the eleventh hour, the day before Kurt's wedding to another man, covered in Kurt's hickeys.

Blaine stripped down his boxers and stepped into the shower, feeling the need now more than ever to be clean. He scrubbed his skin raw, trying to wash away any memories from last night. He scrubbed his scalp until it hurt, washing the gel out of his hair and relaxing the curls that had been distressed the night before. He stood under the water of the shower for a long time, letting it wash away his feelings and take them down the drain.

After a while, he emerged from his shower, skin red and tingling. He studied his bruises in the mirror once again, hoping they wouldn't be as much of a shock since he had already seen them. He still caught his breath when he saw his reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror, the deep bruises standing out behind the haze. He wrapped himself in a towel and shuffled tiredly into his bedroom, glancing forlornly at his bed and wishing he could sleep, but his mind was racing and work beckoned.

He walked over to his closet and picked out blue jeans and a black button-down shirt, hoping the collar and sleeves would be able to hide his bruises. He put on his shirt and boxers went into the bathroom to check his appearance. The sleeves were long enough to hide the few bruises along his arms. He glanced at his neck and sighed. Most of the hickeys were below the line of his collar, but the deep purple ones Kurt made on the favorite spot of his neck peaked out just slightly if his collar wasn't laying just right. He silently wished he had cover-up as he smoothed down his collar over the marks.

He shrugged into his pants and ran a comb through his hair, not bothering to do any styling with it. He took his damp towel from the bathroom and into his room and threw it into his clothes basket. He glanced at his dirty clothes on his bed and considered just leaving them there, but he wanted last night out of his head and those clothes were just another reminder. He picked the pants and shirt up and threw it into his clothes basket, the light bundle making an uncharacteristically loud thud. He glanced at his nightstand, his cell phone still resting where he had left it, so the sound wasn't made from his phone in the pocket of the pants. He went over to the clothes basket and grabbed his dirty pants. He reached in one pocket and pulled out his wallet, obviously the culprit of the noise, but he checked the other pocket just to make sure his keys weren't there.

His fingers closed on a square plastic device. His brow furrowed and he pulled out his hand. Blaine audibly gasped and dropped it to the floor like it was burning his hand: Kurt's cell phone. Memories from last night, which he tried to suppress, came bubbling to the surface. Kurt had asked him to hold onto his cell phone before they went to the bar since his pants were too tight for the device to fit into his pocket. Shaking, he slowly picked it up off the floor, rolling it over in his hands and pushing one of the buttons on the screen. It lit up and showed four missed calls and two text messages. Blaine resisted the strong urge to open them, but he couldn't bring himself to look at the messages that were probably from Glen… Whose fiancé Blaine almost made love to last night.

Blaine groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would have to return the phone to Kurt today. Maybe he could put it off until the wedding tomorrow when he would have to face Kurt. Maybe Kurt would stop by the shop, but he doubted that after what happened last night; or what almost happened last night. He placed the cell phone in his pocket and took it with him just in case. He finished getting ready for work and slipped into his shoes, numbly tying his laces.

His whole body felt numb, whether that was from the lack of sleep or the emotional exhaustion he couldn't sort out. He glanced at the clock, right on schedule to get into work. He went into the kitchen and snatched the aspirin bottle from the cabinet and poured two pills into his palm, swallowing them without water. Blaine kept his eyes off the vase of flowers as he made his way for the door of his apartment, not even glancing at the guitar on his way out.

The walk to work was a listless one as he tried to shut his feelings off, he'd had enough of dealing with them in the last twelve hours. He let his attention wander to sounds around him, anything to just keep his mind off last night. He listened to the birds in the trees, he listened to the garble of cars and pedestrians, anything and everything all at once to blot out last night.

Once he got into the shop it got easier, he forced himself to focus on opening for the day. He took his time getting everything together, dragging every action out so he wouldn't have any free time before the customers came in. Elise came in a bit later than usual while Blaine was elbow deep in a bowl of biscotti dough. Seeing he was busy, she bid him a quick good morning before taking the mop and heading back into the main shop. He heaved a sigh of relief, dreading the moment he would have to tell his best friend about his night from hell. He wished he could just keep it inside and not have to re-tell it to anyone, but he knew he couldn't keep it from Elise, maybe she could help.

The customers came in fast and numerous the minute the shop opened, all getting their fresh Friday morning coffee for the last day of work before their weekend. That kept both Blaine and Elise very busy for the better part of the morning, both scrambling to keep up with all the orders and baking more pastries. As the morning wore on, less and less people began entering the shop, making for a lull in business. Blaine stole away into the back room to take advantage of the extra time and make more baked goods which were selling rather quickly today. Elise was manning the counter as he made his third batch of scones, stirring a cup of walnuts into the thick batter. He grabbed a spoon and began scooping mounds of the dough onto a greased baking sheet, careful to make them all the same size and shape.

"That's our third batch of scones today!" Elise exclaimed storming into the backroom with a huge grin on her face. "It's exhausting but the business is fantastic!" Blaine nodded and half-smiled without looking up from his work. "It's not even noon yet, you look tired already," she grinned, gesturing to the bags under his eyes. Blaine set the empty bowl in the sink and grabbed the tray of unbaked scones, he turned towards the double ovens and bent to open the lower one, sliding the tray into the preheated oven. "What's that?" Elise asked.

"What?" Blaine asked closing the door of the oven and setting the timer.

"That," she asked pointing to his neck. He straightened up and wiped his hands off on his apron. She waltzed over to him and yanked the collar of his shirt down a little and smirked, "what were you up to last night? Or should I say what were you and Nate up to last night?" she asked stepping back with a wink.

Blaine could feel the color drain out of his face, his stomach turning uncomfortably and bunching up in nauseating knots. He took a shaky breath through his nose, "it's not from Nate," he whispered.

"Wha—" her eyes bugged out of her head and her mouth fell open, "Blaine, you didn't…"

Blaine nodded and a choked sob crept up his throat, the tears he had been desperately holding in seeping through his lashes and running down his face. He buried his face in his hands in shame, not even trying to keep his sobbing under control. He felt arms wind around his shaking shoulders and he buried his face in Elise's shoulder. She squeezed him tight, trying to hold the pieces of him together as he was shattering into a million bits. She shushed him and cooed in his ear to try to keep him calm, but he had been holding this inside for too long, preferring to feel numb than anything at all. He trembled from head to foot, exhaustion from not sleeping coupled with his tumultuous emotions wreaking havoc on his frazzled mind. The bell chimed from the other room, signaling the entrance of a customer.

Elise pulled back, "I'll be right back," she whispered, planting a kiss against his temple. She dashed into the other room to talk with the customer.

Blaine sniffed and quieted his sobbing, taking gulps of fresh air to sooth his sputtering lungs. He slumped down on one of the stools next to the baking counter and buried his face in his hands, concentrating on breathing evenly. His emotions were dangerously frayed, unable to make sense of any of them, all amassing together in a confusing mess of tears. He finally calmed his sobs with one final whimper, but let the tears keep flowing, knowing they needed to be released, he couldn't keep them in any longer. He felt a hand brush against his shoulders and took his hands away from his face. Elise smiled held out a paper towel, rising it and gently dabbing at the tears on his face. She threw it out once it was too damp and handed Blaine a dry one.

"Thanks," Blaine rasped, his voice rough.

She straightened up and leaned against the counter across from Blaine, "what happened?" she asked gently.

Blaine drew a breath and dabbed the fresh tears from his face. "Last night was Kurt's bachelor party," he began, letting himself remember everything he was trying to push out of his mind, "Kurt was pretty drunk, so I took a cab with him to his apartment to make sure he got back safe. We got there and I gave him aspirin and water and I was about to leave, but Kurt fell and I tried to catch him but he ended up falling on top of me and…" he took a shaky breath, his heart fluttering spasmodically, "he-he kissed me." Fat tears began rolling down his cheeks in rivers again. "We-we went into his bedroom and started fooling around, neither of us r-really thinking clearly enough to stop…"

She raised a hand to her mouth, "you had sex with Kurt," she gasped.

Blaine shook his head, "no," he cried. "Right as we were about to, I-I snapped, realized what I was doing, and left his apartment."

"Blaine you were drunk, people make mistakes," she reasoned, trying to help soothe him.

He shook his head numbly, the tears still flowing, "I wasn't drunk," he whispered, "Kurt was plastered but I was only a little buzzed, completely in control of my actions."

"But you stopped," she rationalized, "you didn't actually have sex."

"Not with Kurt," Blaine murmured dropping his eyes to his hands.

Elise was silent as he let his words sink in, he could almost hear the gears click into place in her head as she came to the realization, "Blaine…"

"I went over to Nate's after I left Kurt. I needed to forget about him Elise," Blaine looked up, panic in his voice as he tried to explain. "I-I used Nate. I used him to convince myself that I loved him and-and that Kurt meant nothing to me anymore…" he was sobbing again, burying his face in his hands, "I used him," he whispered in between sobs.

"Blaine," Elise murmured placing a hand on his knee, "I'm so sorry."

"Me too," he sniffled, "I feel so guilty. I've ruined two relationships because I was selfish. I'm a horrible person."

"Don't say that," she whispered hugging his shoulders.

"It's true," he whimpered, "I hate what I've done. I hate myself."

"Everyone makes mistakes Blaine, that's life. You make mistakes and you move on, learning from them and growing. No one is perfect. You are a wonderful person, nothing can change that. You're my best friend, nothing will ever change that either."

Blaine shook his head, "the worst part is it didn't work."

"What didn't?"

"I used Nate to try and convince myself I'm in love with him. It only made me realize that I never could love him because I'm still completely and hopelessly in love with Kurt," he wiped the last of the tears from his salt stained cheeks.

Elise peeled back the collar of his shirt a bit, revealing more of the deep purple hickeys along his neck and collar bone, "these could be Nate's then," she suggested lightly touching her fingers to one.

Blaine shook his head, "Nate wasn't really into the foreplay. It was just sex, there was no real feeling, no passion. With Kurt," Blaine shook his head, "I felt like I was flying."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I can't lead Nate on any more. I—" the bell on the door to the shop rang again and more voices floated into the shop from a new group of customers. "Come on," Blaine muttered standing up. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Elise nodded and squeezed his shoulder before leaving the back room and greeting the customers. Blaine took a deep breath and went over to the sink, splashing his face with cool water, cleaning the dried salt from his face. He toweled off his face and took a deep, calming breath before leaving the room and going back to work serving coffee.

It was just before noon by the time the intermittent crowds slowed and stopped coming into the shop. Blaine and Elise hadn't brought up their earlier conversation again and Blaine fell back into his feeling of numbness, only feeling slightly better for talking about it. Though he felt a bit better, he couldn't keep the memories from breaking into his subconscious again, no matter what he did to try and keep them out.

Once the crowds stopped coming, they got worse because he didn't have enough to do to distract himself from them. He tried to busy himself in the back room with Elise as they washed dishes and reorganized shelves, taking inventory and making a list of things to order for the shop. That didn't fill enough of their free time, so they both grabbed cloths and cleaning bottles and started washing all the tables in the front room, cleaning off the crumbs and coffee rings from each of them. They had about half of them done when the bell above the door rang once again. They both looked up at the same time and both of their faces fell.

"Good afternoon, handsome," Nate exclaimed as he came into the shop. In his hands was an extravagant bouquet of a dozen red roses. Blaine felt nauseous all over again at the sight, guilt washing over his whole body as he dropped his cleaning cloth onto the table he was washing.

"H-Hi," he stammered as Nate came over to him. Nate dropped the roses on the nearest table and swept Blaine up into his arms, planting tiny kisses anywhere his lips could reach. He eventually caught Blaine's lips and kissed him deeply, his lips curving up into a smile against Blaine's stiff mouth. Blaine felt sick, shame curling in his limbs, he pulled his face away from Nate's as soon as he could. Nate smiled down at Blaine again and planted a kiss on his forehead as he reached over for the roses.

"For you," he cooed, letting the beautiful bouquet fall into Blaine's arms. Though they were just flowers, they felt like lead in his arms, the gesture making Blaine's skin crawl with his own shame.

"You shouldn't have," Blaine muttered staring at the roses in his arms.

"Of course I should have," he smiled pressing his lips against Blaine's again, "I love you."

Blaine felt like he was going to vomit, he could taste the bile in the back of his throat and his head felt woozy. He took a deep breath and bit back the nausea, forcing a smile onto his pale lips.

"Baby are you alright? You look unwell," Nate asked cradling Blaine's face in his hands.

"I'm just tired," Blaine lied, "I didn't sleep last night."

"I know," Nathaniel growled, grazing his teeth over the shell of Blaine's ear. Elise loudly cleared her throat, making her presence known. A blush crept up Nate's neck and he smirked down at Blaine whose face was still devoid of any color. "Hello Elise," Nate called over to her at the counter.

"Hey Nate," she replied shortly, spraying the counter and running a cloth across the surface. The atmosphere got a bit awkward after her interjection, Blaine and Nate just standing in the middle of the shop without saying anything.

"You want to go outside?" Nate asked taking Blaine by the hand.

"Sure," Blaine replied, trying to keep his voice normal and even. Nate led him outside by the hand that wasn't holding the bouquet of roses, seating himself across from Blaine at one of the picnic tables outside the shop.

Blaine set the roses aside and folded his hands together on the table top and fixing his eyes on them. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? How was he going to start this conversation? And here Nate was, blissfully unaware of the thoughts swirling in Blaine's head or the hickeys from another man tucked under the collar of his shirt. Kurt's hickeys. Blaine's stomach turned and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, what have I done?

Nate reached across the table and unfolded Blaine's hands, taking them in his own, the smile he walked into the shop with never leaving his face. "Blaine," he grinned wider, eyes smoldering in the afternoon sun, "I love you so much. Last night was…" he shook his head and blushed, "incredible." Blaine gave a small smile and focused his eyes on the wood grain of the table, unable to bring himself to meet Nate's eyes. Nate squeezed his hands, "hey, are you okay? You're awfully quiet."

"Tired," Blaine repeated himself, quickly looking up at Nate before locking his eyes back onto the table under their hands. Physically, mentally, and emotionally tired. How was he going to tell Nathanial that?

"Something's wrong. What is it? I thought that after last night that—" Nate's mouth fell open, "oh God Blaine last night. It wasn't good for you was it?"

"Nate I—"

"Oh I should have known! It's just that it was great for me, I never thought to ask if it was good for you. You hated it. I was terrible wasn't I? Was I too rough? Not rough enough? Was it too fast? Too slow? It was bad wasn't it? You were so quiet the whole time! I-I didn't think anything of it!"

"Nate there was nothing wrong with you," Blaine cut him off.

"What's wrong then? You're not acting like yourself," Nate pleaded squeezing both of Blaine's hands. "I thought that after last night everything would be perfect, last night was perfect. You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

"Yeah..."

"Please tell me what's wrong," Nate asked again, "was it something I did? Was it something I didn't do? Help me help you."

It was now or never. Blaine took a deep breath, "Nate last night was a mistake," he murmured, barely audible over the crowds passing by. He dared to peek through his lashes up at Nate to gauge his reaction. His face was pale and his mouth hung open like a fish gasping for reprieve on land.

"I thought that's what you wanted," he reasoned, "you-you came over at 2:30 in the morning and pounced on me in the doorway of my apartment. What was I supposed to think? You should have stopped me if you were uncomfortable."

"I know how it happened," Blaine said, exhaustion seeping into his tone, "but it doesn't change the fact that it shouldn't have."

Nate cocked his head to the side and eyed Blaine, "I'm still confused, I thought you wanted that, you said last night you wanted me."

Blaine took in a deep breath and swallowed hard, shaking his head.

"I-I don't understand," Nate stammered. He looked like he had just been slapped across the face, hurt clear in his brown eyes. Blaine opened his mouth to say more, but Nathanial held up a hand, "okay. Okay, no problem," Nate said putting on a brave face and a smile, he gripped Blaine's hands tighter. "We can take things as slow as you want. If last night was too much, we can take it nice and slow. I won't rush you to do that again until you're absolutely positively sure it's what you want," he nodded to himself and brought one of Blaine's hands up to his lips.

"Nate," Blaine choked, tears welling up in his eyes. "I can't."

"Y-You don't have to until you're ready."

"No," Blaine murmured, "I can't do this. Us."

Now it was Nate's turn to drain of all color and take on a greenish, nauseous looking hue, "what?" he whispered in a strangled breath.

Blaine blinked back the tears in a feeble attempt to keep them back, though a few managed to spill over. "I can't do this anymore. It's not fair to anyone, and I think it's time we stop kidding ourselves."

"Kidding ourselves? But last night—"

"Was a mistake—"

"I told you we can slow down, we can be celibate if that's what you want—"

"Nate—"

"You told me you loved me!" he cried, tears gathering in the corners of his brown eyes. He released Blaine's hands and slammed them down on the table.

"I lied," he breathed, not much louder than a whisper. "I don't. I thought that last night would change things, but it just made everything all too clear."

Nate looked up at Blaine through the haze of tears clouding his vision, the tears overflowing his lids in thick unrelenting rivers down his cheeks. He tried to wipe them off on his sleeve, but the moment he did, they were replaced by fresh ones.

The sight ripped Blaine's heart out, twisting the knot in his stomach and spilling more tears over his cheeks. He hastily scrubbed away the moisture on his cheeks and ever so gently pushed the bouquet of flowers across the table and let them slide to a stop in front of Nathanial's trembling fingers. Nate let out a quiet sob and let his fingers trail over the soft red petals of the closest rose.

"I'm so sorry, Nathanial," Blaine whispered reaching across the table and taking one of Nate's shaking hands.

"What could I have done?" he asked peeking up at Blaine through his tear-laden eyelashes.

Blaine sniffed and took a breath, "it was nothing you did. You were perfect. More than perfect. Anyone would be lucky to have you. I-I just wasn't ready for this relationship like I thought I was."

Nate grasped Blaine's hand tightly and closed his eyes, trying to fight the tears that wouldn't stop running down his face. He ran his free sleeve across his cheeks again, sweeping up the latest wave of tears. He looked back up at Blaine with misty eyes, "it's Kurt isn't it?" Blaine couldn't meet his gaze. "I knew it. I had a feeling when you started spending so much time with him that you still had feelings for him, but I just told myself I was just being jealous. What are you thinking? He's getting married tomorrow, Blaine."

"I know."

"Then why are you doing this? Why are—" Nate took his hand away from Blaine's. "You didn't…"

"What."

"Y-You didn't sleep with him, did you?"

Blaine sighed and dropped his gaze, his chest feeling heavy.

"Blaine?" Nathaniel murmured, his tone hedging on the verge of a snarl.

Blaine couldn't meet Nate's glare, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out, slowly nodding his head.

He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes and look at Nate, feeling ashamed. He didn't see the look on Nate's face, but he heard the sharp slap across his face from Nathaniel's open palm and felt the hot sting on his cheek as his head snapped to the side. He grit his teeth and sucked a breath through his nose in surprise before turning back to Nathanial and letting his eyes flutter open.

"I deserved that," he nodded, feeling his stinging cheek grow warm as the blood rushed to it from the slap.

"You're damn right you did," Nathanial choked, angry tears in his eyes. "How could you?"

Blaine opened his mouth, but no words came out. He had no excuse for his actions.

"When?"

"We fooled around after his bachelor party," Blaine admitted.

Nate was shaking his head, "wow," he laughed.

"Nate—"

"We could have been happy together, you know that?"

Blaine shook his head numbly, "you could, I couldn't."

Nate sniffled and took a deep breath, "fucking Kurt," he swore. "I loved you."

Blaine shook his head, "I wish I could say I had the same feelings, but I don't. It wasn't anything you could have done, it's all me. I-I never meant to hurt you…"

Nate heaved a shaking sigh, and rose to his feet, lifting the bouquet of flowers as he went. Blaine stood too, keeping a few feet between himself and Nate. Nathanial looked down at the bouquet in his hand and sighed, slamming them into the empty trashcan next to the table. "I can't believe this," he muttered, thrusting his hands into his pockets. He glanced over at Blaine, "I can't believe you."

"I am sorry, I didn't want to hurt you, o-or lead you on… I had to be honest with you, and honest with myself. I did care for you. But the truth is, I never really got over him. I shouldn't have gotten you involved, but I thought I could love you, I really did," Blaine shook his head. "But I still have all these feelings for Kurt that I need to sort out. I am deeply and truly sorry Nate."

Nate nodded and sniffed, wiping his eyes one last time. "So this is it. This is goodbye."

"Yeah," Blaine nodded dropping his eyes.

"I never thought that it would come to this," Nate admitted, dropping his gaze to the sidewalk.

"We can still be friends."

Nate shook his head, "I don't think so Blaine, at least not right now. It-It hurts."

"I understand. I'm sorry," he said again, knowing that there would never be enough sorrys to fix what he had done.

"Me too," Nathanial sniffed. "I-I've got to go. Goodbye Blaine."

"Take care Nate." Blaine held out his hand and grasped Nate's briefly, eliciting a pained half-smile from Nate. Nathanial dropped Blaine's hand and walked away with his shoulders slumped, dejected and hurt.

Blaine watched him go, expecting to feel the guilt wash away and for him to feel relieved. He didn't. He felt worse. He felt terrible, monstrous even, for breaking Nate's heart. Just twenty minutes ago Nathanial was on cloud nine, the happiest Blaine had ever seen him. Now he was crushed. Blaine was all too familiar with that feeling and he felt despicable for inflicting that kind of pain on someone so genuinely caring.

He felt horrible for leading Nate on like he did, but ending things now was the right thing to do for everyone, especially Nate. Blaine couldn't bring himself to lead him on any longer, Nate deserved better. Maybe one day Nate would want a friendship with Blaine, but Blaine wouldn't blame him if that day never came. He hoped it would though, maybe one day he could make it up to Nate somehow. But for now, he just watched Nathanial Wise get lost in the crowd as it swallowed him up, never taking so much as a single backwards glance at Blaine or the coffee shop.

You did the right thing. He deserves better. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, using this reasoning to try and clear his heavy conscience. He wiped the salt from his face again and reentered the shop.

Elise was at the counter, watching him come through the door. He scuffed over to the counter and Elise planed a hand on the cheek that Nate had slapped, the flesh still a little pink and warm. "That went well," she said with a forced smile, trying to bring any sort of grin to Blaine's face.

His lips twitched up a little before they fell again. "I told him about Kurt. I broke up with him," Blaine murmured, fresh waves of guilt crashing over him as he said the words. "I just broke his heart."

Elise nodded, "it was for the best," she replied softly, placing a reassuring hand on his arm.

Blaine leaned against the counter and crammed his hands in his pockets, heaving a heavy sigh. His hand closed around Kurt's cellphone in his pocket and he felt the pit open up in his stomach again. He pulled it out and let it rest on his open palm, more missed messages flashing on the screen.

Elise nodded toward the phone, "Kurt's?" Blaine nodded, flipping the device over in his hand. "What are you going to do now?"

Blaine felt good about his resolve. He curled his hand around the cell phone and stuffed it back into his pocket. "I'm going to return this to Kurt."

Elise nodded, "you think you can handle that?"

"What I just did to Nate took a lot and I'm afraid if I don't go now, I'll never have the strength to face him," he sighed, untying the strings of his apron from around his back.

"I can look after the shop by myself. Go," she urged with a smile.

"Thanks Elise," he smiled, hugging her tight.

He left the shop and hailed the nearest taxi he could, hopping in and giving the directions to Kurt's apartment. He didn't know what he was going to say and his brain was too frazzled to think of anything. He took deep breaths and took Kurt's cell phone from his pocket, nervously turning it over and over in his hands. Would Kurt be home? Would Glen be there? Would Kurt talk to him? Would he even answer the door? Blaine had no idea, all he knew was he needed to talk to Kurt.

The cab rolled to a stop in front of the apartment building Blaine had been to just last night and he paid the driver. He skipped up the steps taking them two at a time until he hit the main lobby he had sprinted through less than twelve hours ago. Instead of going up the stairs he escaped down last night, he took the elevator up the Kurt's floor and stepped out on the correct landing, his pulse racing and thudding loudly in his ears. He took calming breaths as he made his way down the hall, coming to a stop in front of the familiar door. He closed his eyes and took deep breath, letting it out slowly, and rose his fist to the wood and rapped his knuckles against the surface.