A/N: I am so, so sorry about this incredible delay :( I want to say thank you once more to all my readers, you all made me feel so special and welcome. It's so sad to finish this story because it was my first here but...well all good things come to an end. Thank you all so much for going through this journey with me xxx

Thank you to Bri for all her help as well xxx


A young woman with dirty blonde hair sat by a small desk in a modest room, sighing gently. It was dark in the small town of Clovis that night, a little more so than usual, and the young lady fiddled with the knob of her oil lamp. Once there was more light she smiled and turned back to the typewriter.

In the last six or seven years Gabriella had travelled the world, seeing the most unusual places and meeting the strangest and most wonderful of people. Her life was like a colourful tapestry and every day brought along a new memory, a new image. But right now she was located in a small town in California, back in America where her travels had truly started. The village itself was rather new and there was fresh inhabitants arriving every day. She had been living here for the last few months, possibly the longest she had ever stayed in one place.

The woman had settled in the area to write her very first book. She had roamed all over the world from her parents' hometown in Italy, to the Orients, and of course here in America. Over her travels she had heard numerous stories from the strangest of characters and experienced quite a few tale-worthy events herself. But one always stood out more than the others. It had been one of the first stories she had ever heard from anyone, a beautiful tale of deception and true love.

In fact she was still in contact with the young man who told her the story and was indeed awaiting a letter from Kurt Hummel very soon. Some when, perhaps three years ago, the two had somehow gotten in touch. She was unsure how the letter found its way to her doorstep in the Philippines but somehow it had. She had known Kurt Hummel for a mere two hours and yet something in her had touched the young man to a point where he tried to make contact with her so many years later.

Of course she had replied, keen to hear of how his life had changed, how things were for him since the arrival of his love that fateful day on the docks. His story was so touching yet dramatic and more romantic than any fictional story that she herself could have come up with. That was why a little over a year ago she had requested to write his story, to tell the world of the tale between the poor courtesan and a famed designer. Her muse had seemed reluctant at first but with some encouragement both he and Blaine agreed to give her the rights to publish their story.

She had some hundred pages typed up; all stored neatly beneath her desk and was working on the final chapter right now. The very first page on the pile simply had the letters 'Haute Couture' as she found it quite an appropriate name.

It had taken her almost four months after the couple in France agreed to allow her to tell their tale before she actually begun to write. The young woman had struggled to settle down, find anywhere where she felt comfortable and inspired. That was until she passed through through the humble town of Clovis. It was an agricultural town with many men working in farms and such. She had been seeking a place to stay for one night and the house she came upon just happened to have an inhabitant that would change her life forever.

The young man who lived in the farm house was not necessarily tall and his mad, curly hair was unruly and an unusual sight indeed. He had answered the door wearing a plaid white and red striped shirt and high corduroy pants. He was unlike anyone she had met on her travels and the moment he found out the young woman was travelling alone he did not hesitate in allowing her to stay as long as she needed.

She soon discovered that this man, Darren, was quiet an eccentric fellow, excitable and a tendency to babble as he tried to talk faster than his mouth would let him. But he was charming and kind and somehow, so many months later she was still here. Their relationship had grown rather quickly, actually it had grown at an alarming rate but she had been comfortable with that, more than in fact. Quite simply, she was in love.

As her eyes wandered to the black and white photograph that had been taken of her and Darren at a county fair last month, the door opened and a young man walked in, his boots thudding on the heavy floorboards. She didn't even have to look to know who it was and turned her head, smiling to the young man as he looked through some letters in his hands.

"Are you expecting something important?" She asked, a small smile playing on her lips as she admired how the shadows fell over his flawless face and one particular strand of hair fell over his brow. Darren's face was screwed up in concentration and he nodded, gnawing on his bottom lip.

"Yes, but it is not here." He sighed, pulling out one letter and walking across the room to the young woman. Her eyes lit up when she saw the envelope in his hand. There was only one person that could be from. Her delicate hand stretched out to accept it but Darren smiled, holding it to his chest and leaning downwards. "I get no thank you for delivering your mail?" he asked with a rather cheeky grin. The beautiful young woman brushed her own curls over her shoulder and leaned close.

"How rude of me." She simply whispered, her soft, pink lips touching against his. His facial hair scratched her chin as he pressed his own lips back, one hand resting on the back of the woman's head, the other placing the envelope on her lap. "Thank you..." Gabriella whispered, a little winded just from the intimate touch.

"You are more than welcome." He breathed back, rubbing his nose against hers and pulling back with a smile to allow the writer to read.

She picked up a silver letter opener and soon she was left alone in her room, Darren sorting some things out for when his parents arrived for a visit tomorrow. She adjusted the brightness of her oil lamp and held up the pellucid paper in her hands, and began to read the familiar script.

My dearest Gabriella,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I am very well thank you, I am currently preparing for my debut night performing in Théâtre de l'Athénée. Can you believe it? I am to be performing in one of the most beautiful theatres in Paris, it feels like such a dream. It seems only yesterday that I was singing in Monsieur Lewis' nightclub two days a week. It is almost funny to think once upon a time the only way I would be able to sing for money was to sit on the street corner and strum my old guitar.

Blaine requests me to send you his well wishes and to thank you for you wishing him well on his latest collection. Thankfully it went down a treat, it has taken me some time to convince him to tone down his boundary pushing designs but for his career, and I think it was a wise choice. He is still holding his greatly deserved title as the king of fashion, and I have never been more proud of him.

Thank you for your offer for us to come to America, I am glad that you have found a place you feel content to stay it. It has become rather difficult to keep up to date with your addresses. I find myself fearing that my letters will not reach you before you move on to some new, glorious adventure.

I have spoken with Blaine about coming to America, perhaps this summer. At this moment, however, my priorities are with Blaine and my show. I have actually just this morning read an article which referred to me as a songbird. I find this quite a kind thing to say. I have heard whispers of a number of rather impressive people supposed to attend the opening night but I am trying to remain calm and to not think of any intimidating people in the audience. Although I have heard more than one rumour saying Adelina Patti is supposed to show and I feel very nervous of that. I do wish you could come sometime. If the show is a hit you simply must come to Paris. I am positive that Blaine would house you and your new partner. I would very much like to meet him and ensure he is a good enough man for such a dear friend of mine.

I apologize; I appear to have gone off topic. I have discussed travelling with Blaine, particularly to America but he seems rather reluctant. I think he is afraid because of any prejudice we have met here in Paris that other countries may be even worse. A part of me is afraid he is right. It has been many years since he has come to accept his feelings for and while I am most certain neither of us have ever been more in love I'm afraid others are no so accepting. We are no fools, mark my words, we do not flaunt our relationship, even now. I have no desire to be stoned, but there are still rumours. I suppose it is rather strange for me to live in his home for so long if we were merely friends.

I must say Gabriella, if a hermit's life is what it would take to be with Blaine than I would gladly choose it. I would easily give my performances up for him and I am certain he would do the same of his fashions.

There is little else to tell you my friend. I have read the draught manuscript you sent me and I must thank you once more for changing the names of myself and my friends. It is wonderfully written, I find it almost humorous how engrossed even I have become, you stay so true to mine and Blaine's story and yet I feel as if I am reading a romance for the ages. You simply must let me know when you finish; I am on the edge of the seat to read more. Although I already am aware of how the story ends it is still thrilling to read.

I must bid you adieu, my friend. I truly wish to hear from you soon.

All of my well wishes and best health.

Kurt Hummel.


"I've just got here, through Paris, from the sunny southern shore..." Kurt pulled his dressing gown closer to his body as he fluttered lightly around the room, singing cheerfully. "I to Monte Carlo went, just to raise my winter's rent. Dame Fortune smiled upon me as she'd never done before, and I've now such lots of money, I'm a gent." Blaine chuckled and even joined in the next line of his lover's musical celebration.

"Yes, I've now such lots of money, I'm a gent." The younger, brunette male grinned broadly, rushing over and pressing his lips lightly to Blaine's forehead as the gramophone played the tune merrily.

"As I walk along the Bois Boolong with an independent air, you can hear the girls declare-he must be a Millionaire." The singer raised his hand in a flamboyant fashion as he pranced around, his lover's laughter audible, cheer filling them both up as Kurt preformed just for his partner. "You can hear them sigh and wish to die, you can see them wink the other eye at the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo." Kurt continued to sing, Blaine now clapping and smiling as he watched from his position on the bed. There was no reason for this impromptu performance other than sheer joy. Fifteen minutes ago both men had been waiting to get ready to go to bed. Kurt had decided to perhaps play a little music and while Blaine expected something soft and soothing he had been mistake. Kurt put on a jaunty, gay melody and proceeded to sing, dancing as well. This was nothing like his breathtaking performances in front of thousands, oh no, this was just the love of Blaine Anderson's life behaving uncouthly and far from dapper, but loving every moment.

The song continued, Kurt relentlessly singing and dancing until eventually his legs gave in and he all but collapsed onto the bed, Blaine chuckling deeply and settling beside him.

"You are too much." He smiled down to his love who laid flat upon the mattress, cheeks bright pink. The brunette chuckled and shrugged. It had been almost a month since he had sent his letter to Gabriella and he had yet to receive a reply. So much was changing so fast. Although he and Blaine had been together some years now, every day brought something new and exciting. Kurt was performing for bigger, more important crowds, his name was known throughout the beautiful city, the country even. Many women had asked for his hand and to have relations with him, being such big fans but he simply chuckled and informed them all of his choice to remain celibate. It was a bare faced lie and if his dear mother had been around to hear him utter such untruth he would feel her wrath with a wooden spoon. But he would lie a thousand times over just to keep his and Blaine's relationship to be nothing more than silly rumours.

Kurt was chuckling breathlessly, the record changing to the next song but he was no longer listening. Instead the young man stretched out and touched Blaine's hair which was growing a little long for his liking, but he loved him all the same.

"I love you...every day...I fall more and more for you." Blaine smiled the sweetest smile and leaned close, kissing him. His mouth slightly missed Kurt's lips but the younger didn't care. This wasn't about romance or kisses, it was about contact, just being close. He felt Blaine's lips hover against his flesh and he could hear his lover inhaling him. His stomach fluttered alive with utter love and disbelief. To this day he had no idea what he had done to deserve being so happy.

"Blaine..." He whispered, stroking his fingers through his hair.

"I love you too." The designer whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of Kurt's lips. The last few weeks the young man had been working hard trying to keep up with the tall order for his clothing. His last line had been exceptionally popular and he was glad of having Kurt to keep him on the right path when it came to fashion. Although he was the designer it was clear Kurt was the one with the level head and an eye for gaps in the marketplace. He knew what would and would not work. He was a genius, and it was one of the many reasons Blaine loved him.

The last few years, particularly the last ten or so months, things had been incredible. It had taken both of them quite some time to process, grieve and accept Samuel's death, in fact, sometimes Kurt would still sit and gaze at a painting his best friend had done, some silent tears running down his face. But slowly they were coming to terms with his passing. It was a long process but the both of them were coming out stronger. They had one another to get passed the hard times. That was sadly more than could be said and it indeed appeared their friend was getting much better.

There were some moments in which the two playfully toyed with one another. Kurt tilted his head, brushing his nose against Blaine's who chuckled and rubbed back. There were some attempts of kisses and sly pecks. At one point Blaine even bit down on Kurt's bottom lip, causing the younger to mewl adorably.

"I am so in love with you..." Blaine whispered, repeating his affection and causing Kurt to turn red. He proceeded to trail some kisses along Kurt's cheek to his ear and nuzzled. For some moments he repeated his love and devotion in the many languages he knew, leaving Italian until last because he loved how it made Kurt melt.

"Ti amo, mio tesoro..." He had his hand rested upon Kurt's stomach and he could almost feel the butterflies as Kurt tilted his head, latching his lips onto Blaine's. For some seconds there was the gentlest and most loving of kisses, sly touches and gropes above clothing and the softest laughter. After some minutes Kurt pulled back from his lover's lips and simply smiled at him.

"You are beautiful." He whispered, stroking his lover's cheeks. This moment... it felt so calm and wonderful. So many people would think that he should not be saying such things to man, let alone with the amount of love the younger male had in his voice. He adored Blaine and everything about him. His partner chuckled and shook his head, touching Kurt's hair.

"Only if there is a mirror on my face." He cheekily replied, stealing one more quick kiss before he pulled back in order to change into something more comfortable. Kurt pulled himself up onto the bed and lay on his side, watching as his love dressed in something much more comfortable - a pair of silk, baby blue pyjama pants and an open hip length kimono to match. It had golden thread along the sleeves and hem and the bellowing sleeves were too big for Blaine. Kurt found it almost humourous but he couldn't deny that his love looked truly beautiful.

As Blaine stood forward towards Kurt, his lover's eyes drifted to his exposed chest. Blaine couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him as he took a few steps forward and sat on the bed in front of his partner. For some moments they simply smiled to one another and Kurt gazed downwards, a gentle chuckle escaping him.

"We should go to bed." He said softly and the elder nodded for some seconds, Kurt made a movement to crawl up on the bed and get over the covers but he paused, Blaine wasn't mimicking him. His lover instead got off the bed and knelt down by its side, hands folded in prayer. Kurt did not copy him but instead gazed with an interested eye. He had never seen Blaine pray, not by himself certainly.

"Ár nAthair atá ar neamh, go naofar d'ainm, go dtaga ríocht, go ndéantar do thoil..." His lover began to speak gently in Irish, a language Kurt surprisingly rarely heard him speak. "Ar an talamh mar adhéantar ar neamh. Ar n-arán laethúil tabhair dúinn inniu, agus maith dúinn ár bhfiacha.." His partner's eyes were closed but Kurt knew that he was aware of the younger's gaze. "Mar a mhainthimidne dár bhféichiúna féin agus ná lig sinn i gcathú, ach saor sinn ó olc...amen..." Blaine was smiling gently as his native rendition of Our Father turned to a personal prayer that Kurt could certainly understand.

"Dearest father, I wish to thank you for the joy you have blessed me with the last few years." The younger of them both smiled gently and decided not to interrupt as his partner spoke. "I had believed that I knew what happiness was but I now know I was in the dark. I have never known of the possibly bliss of having someone you love so completely and utterly nearby."

"Blaine..." The brunette gushed, hand against his chest as Blaine hushed him, the smallest smile on his lips.

"I also wish for you to give me the strength to show this person how much they mean to me and how much I shall always adore them...and I also wish for your blessing in what I am about to ask. For I know better than many of your followers. If their claims that you love us and wish for us to be happy is correct then I know meeting Kurt was your intervention, despite his gender...and I pray you will show no wrath when I ask his hand..."

"Blaine!" It would have been impossible to hush the younger man as he squeaked out his lover's name. The designer gazed up to his partner with a broad smile on his face. He lowered his head, chuckling and one hand stretched into the kimono pocket, producing a box. His lover was sitting on the bed, shaking his head, hands against his heart. His face was of pure disbelief and caused Blaine to chuckle softly.

"Kurt..." Still on his knees he held out the box. "I have been meaning to do this for so long but..." He opened the box, showing the young man the most perfect silver band for his finger. Kurt's eyes were teary and he gazed to the younger.

"But Blaine...it isn't allowed...I shouldn't even be able to wear such a beautiful ring...people would talk, we'd be shunned...you could get hurt..." By now his lover was trembling with fearful thoughts of all they could go through should he accept Blaine's marriage proposal. It was all he wished for but he couldn't. Blaine would be hurt... he knew he would...

"I know..." Only now, when Blaine took the band out of the box did Kurt notice the equally beautiful silver chain it was dangling from. His lovers honey eyes met his and for a moment the younger truly melted inside. "I am not asking for some wedding...I am not asking for us to legally be together because lord, I know that is impossible..." Kurt couldn't help but chuckle as the designer threw his eyes to heaven as he spoke. The elder stretched out, touching his palm to Kurt's cheek and leaning close. He was now standing, bent over the bed as his lips brushed against Kurt's. "But I wish for you to be mine, and mine alone." The younger felt the hand on his cheek move, opening the chain and in only a moment it was wrapped around his neck. He did not move for fear of fainting from shock. The necklace felt weighty around his neck, not in a bad way, simply a reminder how Blaine truly wished for him to be by his side forever.

The designer leaned back and touched the chain, admiring the brunette.

"Beautiful..." He whispered before slipping the chain underneath his lover's night shirt. A look of confusion crossed Kurt's beautiful features.

"But I cannot see it."

"No..." A flat palm pressed against his chest, right against the right which felt cool against the younger's flesh. "But you can feel it." Kurt's eyes teared up as his partner spoke, his voice so soft, wonderful. He wanted to remain in this moment forever as he rested his hand upon Blaine's, pressing the ring harder against himself. He could feel it burning the flesh over his heart, marking him with Blaine's love. "Will you?"

"Sorry?" The brunette was unaware of the tears running along his face as he gazed upwards. Blaine chuckled softly and stretched out, brushing his tears away with the hand that wasn't against his breast.

"Will you be mine?" There was a moment of silence before Kurt moved both hands, flinging his arms around Blaine and pulling him to his chest.

"Yes! Yes of course I will." The younger cried with joy ringing out through his voice. He kissed Blaine's lips, smiling against them, filled with warmth to know this man wished to keep him in his life, to forever love him. Once upon a time Blaine Anderson would have laughed at the very thought of loving, let alone wishing to be with a man for the rest of his days.

For some moments they embraced, Kurt pulling his lover close, feeling their chests meet and the feeling of the ring pressing to both their breasts. Blaine could not believe this was real, the love they shared felt beyond this world. He could not imagine anyone else feeling happiness like he felt with Kurt. He was blessed, honoured to have this man in his life because in the end he didn't fall for the beautiful dresses, the long hair, the make up, the genitals or the gender at all. What he leaned was something he believed everyone in the world should learn. Love is never about the gender, but the person beneath.


I hope you all don't mind me bothering you with this but for a project I made a dres up game, A Blaine Anderson Dress Up Game :) I dont know how ot link here but I'm chesters-linkin-lady on DA and it's the newest thing in my gallery. Just put Chesters-linkin-lady . deviantart . com and its the first thing. I really hope you all enjoy it, feedback is appreciated and I'm making a Klaine game along with Fanfic inspired clothes, one of which [as egotistical as it seems ;_;] is Haute Couture, I'll keep people updated but it should be up sometime next week xxxx