He had to do it. There was no other way to prevent what was happening. Over, and over again the scene would play in his mind. Barry would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, gasping for breath at the horror in his mind. Of course the speedster would just tell Blaine it was nothing, just a nightmare relating to his mother’s death. Sometimes that was true. Not for the first time he wished he had been honest with his boyfriend, told him about being the Flash, about being a metahuman. But… he was advised not to, and look where it led them. In the future… he saw the man he loved, the man he was living with, someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with… die. And it was all HIS fault. It was ties to Barry that would get him hurt, get him into this mess; that needed to be stopped. This was the last resort he could think of, the last thing he could do. And man, he would rather take a vibrating hand to the chest than this. Yet he was still going to go through with it, regardless of the fact that he loved him so much. Blaine being alive, and safe was far more important. The smart thing would have been to come clean about everything, except his fear was driving his actions. Calling the shots. Later he would regret it. For now his mind was clouded; he was scared.
So he packed up all his things, bags ready as he sat on the couch, their couch that they used to cuddle, and watch movies on. Shuts his eyes tightly, and tries to keep himself composed. That pain in his chest won’t subside, and he’s trying to not shed tears. He doesn’t get to feel sad, he doesn’t get to cry. This was completely unfair to Blaine, and he deserved better. He deserved so much better than Barry. Selfish, and cruel. He was no hero. Just a scared boy who hasn’t stopped running since that night so long ago. Even if he wanted to be with Blaine, the other’s safety came first, regardless of the fact not that long ago Barry had gotten him a ring. One unbeknownst to him had been left in their cabinet while he was packing his things.
He heard the door open, and knew this was it. This… this was it, whatever happens now was for the best. Blaine could live his life happily, safe, and live his dreams. Fall…. fall in love with someone else ( Barry felt like he might die at the idea ), and…. and be happy. The speedster hears his voice, and tries not to cry. Fuck, he’s going to miss waking up to that sound. And then he sees him, and it’s almost too much. He’ll never have this again. Never. Honestly, he didn’t deserve the time they had anyway. It… it was the right thing to do. Blaine was basically sunshine, and Barry had no right to taint that. None. “Blaine…we… we have to talk,” even uttering those words had been difficult. But they were out, and he couldn’t stop it now. This was it. This was how he loses the best thing, best person that ever came into his life.
Rehearsals, fittings, more rehearsals, a technical difficulty that took over an hour to fix. Blaine was abuzz with the excitement of it all. Where some of the seasoned actors grumbled after being forced to stay late–there were no complaints from the soon-to-be-graduate student from NYADA who somehow lucked out enough to land a role in an actual Broadway production as his work study. However, once they were released? He rushed out to go see the only thing that had him antsy to go before it got any later. Barry would be at home waiting. Blaine shot the CSI a text to let him know he was on his way–frowning thoughtfully when he received nothing back but shrugged it off as Barry napping off the day.
Deciding the best way to wake up a snoozing partner was with take-out and a bottle of wine–he jogged from the elevator to their apartment, a pizza box on his hip and a bottle of wine tucked under his arm. Getting open the door might’ve taken a few fancy balance moves considering the box was huge and he was too tired to think about setting the bottle on the floor–but after conquering that battle? A heel was used to bonk the door shut and he called out from the kitchen as he sat their dinner and the wine bottle down on the white tiled countertop. “Barry! I’m home! Sorry we ran late. There was an issue with the sound and we had to wait for them to fix it. I brought dinner! One of those giant pizzas from that place you like! Oh and wine! I figured I could dress up a trash dinner somehow” his smile could be heard in his voice.
No answer. Was he still asleep? Oblivious to what was waiting for him–Blaine walked down the hallway, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the hook before going in search of his sleepyheaded boyfriend figuring he’d be a mess of limbs hanging off the edge of the couch. What he saw sitting there wasn’t anything he could have expected and it took him a minute to connect the dots between the bags, Barry’s face and the words he just heard. His smile went out like the last flickers of a candle. Their eyes connected and Blaine’s brows wrinkled towards one another–his stomach fell to the bottom basement floor of their apartment building. “We do? Why? What’s the matter? Did something happen?” Instinct had him trying not to sound so worried by the expression he was staring at but it had to be something serious. All the while? He was expecting it to be something about work, something he wasn’t going to like. Something dangerous. Or yet another case that’d give Barry more nightmares that were getting worse and worse. Anything but what was actually going on. “Where are you going?”
pianokeysandbowties 