Note: This little drabble was written because it has been years since that dreadful episode aired, and I still refuse to believe that Blaine would cheat on his soul mate under any circumstances.

It had been their third failed phone call of the day, with Kurt talking non stop about New York and all the new friends he was making, his job at vouge and all the new names and guys and girls and guys whilst simultaneously steam rolling over all attempts of Blaine trying to talk about his life at Mckingly.

Blaine was starting to feel more like Kurt's journal than his boyfriend. Blaine, admist all of Kurt's hurried byes and talk to you laters tried to sneak in his I love you, but before he could even finish, he heard the ever familiar dial tone indicating that his boyfriend had hung up.

Blaine missed their clichéd and slightly nauseatingly cheesy 'you hang up' 'no you hang up' moments. Thinking about them made Blaine cringe even as they warmed his heart, but at least they were infinitely better than being cut off.

Blaine looked at his watch, he had 3 hours before his speech for the class president was scheduled, but his heart wasn't really in it. Lately, it seemed his heart wasn't really in anything. Unsurprising, considering most of the time it felt like it was in New York in the back pocket of a pair of deliciously skin tight jeans of his even more delicious boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Kurt was still his boyfriend... Right?

The doubt hurt Blaine more than he thought rejection might. Ever since sophomore year, if there had been one thing Blaine had always been absolutely sure of, it had been his relationship with Kurt. They were soulmates, Plaine and simple. They would graduate, move to New York, get married, become famous performers, have a child and name him or her either Tracy or Hepburn or maybe even Little Feta and become the poster couple for the LGBT community, a real power couple, and they would live happily ever after.

It was all planned and talked about extensively. Blaine hated doubting it. His hands trembled when he took out his phone again. Might as well just clear eveything up. Ignorance might be bliss in some cases, but Blaine could do with a reality check right about now. Especially if he was just making a future with Kurt all up in his head.

You can tell me if you want out. It would hurt less than having to question it evrytime I think about you.

Blaine didn't know if the text made him sound like a victim, or just plaine vindictive. He did know that his text was honest, and honesty was really all Blaine needed right now. So, he hit sent and switched his phone off. If the answer was going to break him, he would rather he at least gave his candidate speech before breaking down in tears and heart break.

When Kurt's phone pinged with the personalized bling of Katy Perry's Teenage Dream, it brought a smile to his face. It faded just as fast when he read the context of the text.

Oh God.

Kurt was pretty sure the panic that was bubbling in his chest was going to consume him any second now. He tried calling Blaine immediately, running to hide in the men's room so that Isabelle Wright won't fire him for taking personal calls during his working hours. But, it was futile anyway, Blaine's phone was switched off. So Kurt did the next best thing, he booked the next plane ticket to Ohio.

When he knocked on his boss' door, he didn't have to fake the absolute devastation on his face, neither did he have to lie about the life or death emergency his wording implied. Kurt wasn't sure how he was going to survive if he lost Blaine. Isabelle looked completely horrified for him. And gave him permission to leave immediately, while also giving him 2 days of payed leave. Kurt couldn't bring himself to feel guilty. Every single one of those perks seemed justified considering what he was facing.

The potential end of his future. The loss of the love of his life, his best friend. His soulmate. That's what he was facing.

Blaine had fixed the collar of his shirt for the fourth time in the last five minutes. The lack of bow tie made it almost too easy to breathe, it made him feel empty rather than confident. Then again, maybe the empty feeling wasn't exactly the bowtie's fault, but that was the only reason he was about to give to the fact that he felt like he chest was about to collapse in on itself.

He took one last breath as the announcer called out his name, but they air felt hollow. He walked over to the podium and launched in on his practiced speech, words falling from his mouth as if the lips remembered the sounds he was supposed to make, because his mind was still on the heavy, switched off cell phone that sat in his jacket pocket. He wanted the moment to freeze, because he had promised himself to check his messages right after he got off stage, but he had no idea how he would handle the answer he was sure he would get.

I'm sorry.

This isn't working out.

Kurt is so beautiful. He's strong and brave and loud. He would thrive in New York. He's probably met tens of beautiful boys just like him. Why would he still want Blaine? His 18 year old, comparatively inexperienced high-school boyfriend.

I just don't love you anymore.

Blaine closed his eyes against the thoughts in his head and the applause in front of him as he closed his speech. He did a little unsure half bow with a murmured Thank you and was just about to get off the stage when a voice called out,

"Wait!" Blaine stopped breathing.

He turned around, and there, standing in the middle of two blocks of seated students on either side, was Kurt, his Kurt, panting as if he's been running a marathon, his clothes, even though as impeccable as always, were rumpled to a mess. He looked as if he had been crying, or how he'd looked after that one party they had gone to, where Kurt had thrown up over and over again after drinking too much. Blaine remembers every detail too perfectly, because he had been the one to rub Kurt's back after each session of dry heaving.

Kurt looked like a mess. A beautiful mess. Blaine's mess.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, but Kurt walked over to the raised platform instead of answering him, ignoring all the students and teachers and some of the raised cell phones that were no doubt recording all of it.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." Kurt said, and yes, he definitely had been crying. Blaine felt like he would fall over any moment as he looked up at Kurt's reddened eyes, his bone pale face. The pink on the tip of his nose which was the tell tale sign of his break down more than anything else.

Kurt's arms came around Blaine's shoulder just as Blaine's knees forgot how to support the rest of him.

"I'm sorry that I made you feel, even for a second, that I don't love you, when in reality you are the most important person to me. I love you more than anything, more than anyone I have loved, or could ever love in my life."

Blaine was definitely not breathing now. May be he had somehow gone to heaven. The microphone attached to Blaine's shirt amplified Kurt's words and made the following silence even more deafning.

"You are my soulmate. The love of my life. And no amount of people we meet, or the distance we have to live through, is ever going to change that." Kurt leaned in till their foreheads touched, and for the first time, Blaine realized he was crying. They both closed their eyes simultaneously, and Kurt breathed against his lips,

"No matter what happens or how much time goes by, we will always belong to each other. And I'm never saying good bye to you."

Blaine's voice came out squeaky and slightly broken as he whispered an equally soft "Okay." Which was ironic because he doesn't think he had ever felt so complete in his life.

~fin~

Also, Kurt and Blaine did move to New York, they did get married. They also adopted a really pretty baby boy, named him Tracy Anderson-Hummel, calling him little Feta every now and then as a sort of a nickname.

Kurt became one of the most sought after Broadway stars, and Blaine was the next teenage sensation in the world of pop. They also became the poster couple for the LGBT community. People adored them. And they adored eachother.