Blaine wasn't nervous. He was getting coffee with a friend, something he had done countless times, and it didn't matter that Kurt was beautiful and funny and smart and seemed to read his mind better than he did himself. It didn't matter. What else didn't matter was that he had met him yesterday. At the debate. Where their fathers had argued for the world to see. He felt himself lose himself in the reflection in the mirror and snapped out of it as he tied his bowtie. One of the few luxuries he afforded himself, the luxury of slipping out of the character of Blaine Anderson once in a while. But no more than a bowtie, because Blaine Anderson was made of marble, classy, smooth and unbreakable, and no one less than Kurt could see that.

Kurt wasn't giddy. He was most definitely giddy over a Mocha Grande with a potential friend. Because Kurt Hummel might not be much to the likes of Blaine's father, but he was sure as hell could learn from his mistakes. Sam and urgh, Finn. Straight guys should be able to be friends with gay guys without any weird sexual tension and Kurt Hummel was nothing if not determined. He could be friends with Blaine, and hopefully, change his perspective on LGBTQ-rights his father had most definitely taught him. He could do this and he could do it without falling on his face again.

Blaine was just outside of the little tucked in coffee shop that Kurt had asked him to meet him at and he took in his surrondings. Chicago was a big city, but this block was cosier than the giant corporate office buildinings that dominated the skyline. But here, at the very roots of the city, it seemed to hold a atmosphere of warmth that Blaine hadn't found in Alaska. He doublechecked the address and the name on the sign hanging over him before collecting a breath and entering the coffee shop.

It's a small place, it reeks of coffee and humms with the sound of the student's laptops as they work their college essays and nurtures cups of tea and coffee. Blaine almost smiles to himself, a place like this of all places is where Kurt wants to meet him, a place that seems to be a stereotype of itself, but a beautiful such and Blaine searches the room for a pair of seablue eyes that seem to see further than the plain lightbrown of his own.

Kurt looks up just as a familiar figure enters the coffee shop, dressed in a black overcoat and a red scarf that brings out the warmth of his skin. Not that Kurt notice that in any other way than in appreciation of fashion. But then Blaine turns and spots him before that little smile sneaks out, and Kurt isn't even sure if Blaine is consious about him doing it, and he makes his way to the round table in the corner.

"Morning" Blaine offers as he reaches the table.

"It's nearly noon, I don't think you can still call it morning." Kurt smiles as Blaine takes a seat and then Kurt spots it. Underneath the scarf, Blaine wears a- bowtie. He doesn't know why it stands out so badly, it's a dark navy blue and it just feels important.

"Noon or not, anything before 2 PM is definitely morning." Blaine smiles. A blonde girl comes over and he orders a coffee with a slightly more strained that remained on his face even as he turns his head back toward Kurt. And Kurt can't stop staring at it. 

"Kurt?"

He jerks his head up, realising it had dropped along with his gaze as he had been staring at the damn thing. But a bowtie, it felt so- urgh. Kurt hated his weird sense of fashion that made him catch onto small details like that.

"Sorry" he blushed slightly. "It's just your bowtie-"

Kurt almost stops himself as Blaine's face drains of all colour.

"- it's really nice. Where did you get it?" he tries to say as casually as he can, without letting on that he had been closer to scaring him away with an "you're adorable".

Blaine seems to collect himself and smiles with something close to ease as he begins telling Kurt how he found a specialized tie-and-bowtie-store in Alaska. Kurt laughs at it and they fall in to a conversation that barely scrapes the surface of their minds.