Kurt sat back as the air stewardess began the ritualised hand movements and the pilot was speaking both French and English, explaining the necessary safety features of the plane. He looked around the crowded plane and noticed the people around him. One rather large couple looked oddly matched; the husband bulging out of his shirt and sweating nervously as his curly haired and jolly wife was fanning him madly with the onboard magazine. A business woman in a grey suit and black heels was reading her magazine calmly a few rows back, her straight hair a reflection of her business acumen too, Kurt presumed. A man lazily yawned behind him and stretched his long legs, whilst scratching his head and looking bored. All in all, a rather ordinary collection of people and typical of an early morning flight from New York to Paris in December.

Kurt could not believe he was finally getting away from it all. He loved New York and all its grime and chaos but the last few weeks had taken their toll and he was weary. He knew a fortnight away would be ideal and if previous holidays were anything to go by, he would be missing New York in no time. It would be just what he needed.

He almost changed his destination once he had booked it a few months ago; knowing he would be single in the city of love would be torture but he had always wanted to travel to Paris. Hearing from Mercedes again last week, after all of her travels, urged him forward and he felt that he needed time alone to really think through all his decisions and worries.

It was as he was pondering these decisions and sighing again, he turned to his left side to see who he was sat next to and he met the most unique eyes he had ever seen. A colour he could not fathom or hope to describe, a mixture of browns, gold and green, were staring back at him and a smile was gracing the face of the man sitting next to him. He inhaled sharply at his stare being met so solidly and laughed nervously.

"Your face tells a thousand stories, you know," the man next to him said, smiling.

"Sorry, I wasn't aware I was that obvious," Kurt said, smiling back and looking to his own hands placed in his lap. He started to fiddle with the magazine on his knees, about to open it.

"Its rather refreshing actually, I see so many people that place a mask of inscrutability on their face, that it is nice to see someone that displays their feelings so openly. I hope you didn't mind me interrupting your thoughts?"

"No, they weren't of that much importance. I'll let you get on," Kurt replied, indicating the man's stack of papers in front of him, "You look busy."

The man looked down, as if he was unaware of so much paper and laughed.

"These things? No nothing of importance here." And he neatly stacked them on the little table and held his hand out towards Kurt.

"I'm Blaine by the way."

Kurt took the offered hand and shook it lightly. "Kurt."

Blaine smiled. "Kurt," he said, as if the name was magical, "Business or pleasure?"

"Pardon?" Kurt replied.

"Your trip," Blaine said, laughing, "Business or pleasure?"

"Oh," Kurt blushed a light shade of pink, "Pleasure, I think."

"You think?" Blaine raised a perfectly triangular eyebrow.

"Well I booked it months ago and it was on a whim of sorts. I didn't really think it through."

"You don't want to go to Paris, the city of loooove?" Blaine crooned, wiggling his eyebrows humorously.

"Not particularly when I am single," Kurt laughed.

Blaine looked at Kurt quietly.

"Business or pleasure?" Kurt asked.

"Well it depends on your viewpoint. I live in Paris, so I guess a mixture of both."

"Oh really? How long have you lived there?"

"A few years now actually. I'm originally from Ohio but came to Paris when my father's firm expanded here."

"Well it is a small world. I'm from Ohio too."

"Really? But you were in New York?"

"I live in New York now but I was born and raised in Lima, Ohio."

"Oh not too far from Westerville then."

"What is it your father's firm does? Or I should say what do you do?" He smiled, Kurt's nerves getting the better of him.

"I'm a writer but my father's firm is a publishing house. I do a bit of everything really at the firm. I write for others, read manuscripts and mess around really. I should be more I suppose but find I am not." He laughed, with no real humour behind it. Kurt smiled in response.

"What do you do in New York?" Blaine asked.

"I'm an intern at Vogue. You could say I do a bit of everything too – write when given the opportunity, blog, wear crazy outfits and sit in on important meetings. I love it actually."

"The job suits you," Blaine said, smiling lightly but a hint of something else stirred in his eyes. Kurt ploughed on nervously.

"It combines almost all of my loves really – fashion, writing, judging, designing. I find that if I try, my opinion is valued and I'm not always used to that."

"I know what you mean," Blaine said sadly.

"Do you enjoy your job?"

"It's not what I hoped for really but I think I could be better if I tried."

"What stops you?" Kurt asked kindly but then realised he was talking to a stranger. "I'm so sorry, I'm overstepping," his voice trailing away, his eyes glancing to his right.

"No, don't apologise," he said, placing his hand on Kurt's to get his attention.

Kurt looked at his hand, then lifted his eyes to Blaine's searching gaze. Those eyes could melt the ice caps.

"I – you," Kurt stuttered, not entirely sure what it was that he wanted to say.

Blaine laughed. "I don't know what stops me if I'm honest," he said, "Worry that I won't be good enough, disappointment from others, just need a little courage I think." He looked down at his hand and took it from Kurt's slowly. Not sure how it had managed to get there in the first place. He felt a strange sense of foreboding when he looked at Kurt, like this boy's face could signify his ending but only a sense of bubbling nervousness took a hold of him. He looked away.

He sat back in his seat, looking towards his window as if to indicate an end in the conversation. He sighed looking at the beautiful world beneath him. Without looking away from the window he continued his conversation.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes," Kurt whispered, not quite sure what he was agreeing to, only seeing Blaine's portrait.

Blaine turned back to look at him and laughed. "You can't see it!"

"Well I have seen enough of the world, to know what you were referring to!"

Blaine just smiled.

They had been chatting all through take-off, neither of them realising they had begun travelling closer to Paris, mile by mile. The clouds were pure white up here and numerous but neither complained.

There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes and Kurt nervously assumed the conversation was at an end. He picked up his magazine and skimmed through the first few pages, turning the pages over on outfits that he admired. He was slowly becoming engrossed in the articles, not noticing Blaine's soft eyes quietly observing him.

"Do you have any plans while you're in town?" he asked politely.

Kurt looked up and dropped his magazine. "In town?" he laughed, "It's quite a bit bigger don't you think?"

"You know what I mean," Blaine returned his smile, "Any idea what you plan to do?"

"Visit the usual I think, Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame. I have to see the Monet paintings at the Mus�e de l'Orangerie but I'm sure you're bored of those places by now."

"I rarely visit them to be honest. I walk around some of the parks but the tourist attractions lose their initial appeal after you live there for a while."

"I don't think I feel the same about New York. Don't get me wrong, I can get bothered by the tourists like the next person but I will always feel like I can't get enough of the place. It feels like home much more than Ohio ever did."

"Yes I see that. Ohio was never really home for me either. We moved around so often, it was never a special place for me."

"Why did you move around?"

"My dad's firms. It was always best to travel with him. We were never sure if he would return otherwise."

"You don't get on with your dad?"

"Not really. We tolerate each other but I don't think he gets my life choices and I certainly don't respect his."

"Oh," Kurt replied, unsure how to comment.

"What are your family like?"

"Oh they're great, sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Don't apologise for having great parents," Blaine said laughing, "You're lucky. Do they still live in Ohio?"

"Yeah my dad and my step-mum."

"You don't see your mum?"

"No she died when I was eight," Kurt said quietly.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No its fine, thanks."

Blaine wasn't quite sure what he was doing here. It was one thing to have polite conversation with someone on a boring flight but quite another to have in depth dialogue involving deep thoughts and dealing with death. He was intrigued by this Kurt guy but it still felt as if he would slip out of his grasp any minute. He couldn't explain the feeling of desperation he felt towards him. He never wanted this flight to end.

The stewardess came then with their complimentary drinks and snacks and they slipped into a comfortable silence.

The larger couple from before looked more agitated then Kurt thought possible, the fanning becoming desperate as the man looked redder and more uncomfortable. He loosened his shirt collar to no avail. The business lady was still reading her magazine, crossing and uncrossing her legs when the fancy took her and the lazy man behind, still yawned and stretched his legs. Another man was religiously reading his Paris travel guide, whispering French phrases to himself and checking his route and journey planner occasionally. Blaine laughed.

"They look a motley bunch of people don't they?" he whispered, leaning towards Kurt conspiratorially.

"Yes," Kurt whispered in return and he gulped at the close proximity. Blaine glanced at Kurt's lips before letting his gaze return to his eyes and he leaned back towards the window.

"How long are you staying in Paris for?"

"Two weeks, unless I cut it short."

"Why would you do that?" Blaine questioned, frowning.

"I'm not sure I really want to be away from New York for that long. I suppose when I booked the trip I wanted to get away, now I realise I was stupid."

"That deserves further explanation, I think," Blaine said, smiling kindly.

"I ended a relationship a few months ago and was desperate to escape, I would have got on any flight I could if I could have the time off. My next vacation time was these two weeks and I booked the holiday, thinking only of my bucket list of places to visit. I hadn't really thought to myself about what a holiday alone would entail. Now I've had a few months to sort myself out, I feel rather silly really. The relationship was doomed to fail."
"Why?"

"Because I never really loved him. I think I settled for him in many ways and he wanted more from me than I was willing to give."

Blaine showed no reaction to the news that Kurt was gay, so he continued.

"It was two years of nothing really and I dreamt it was more."

Blaine nodded his head in understanding.

"My relationships are more of the dramatic kind I think. I would much rather have calm."

"No it really is not all it is cracked up to be, I assure you," Kurt said laughing.

"Well perhaps you will find what you are looking for in Paris?" Blaine said hopefully, smiling.

"Maybe…" his voice trailed away, Kurt lost in thoughts of Paris and a holiday away.