The door slammed close, sending a blast of cold winter air inside, making Blaine shiver. He wiped his tears away, put on a fake smile and looked around at the people in the small coffee shop.

He saw people who looked like they just stepped out of GQ or Vogue. He saw people who looked like they had never read or even seen a Vogue. He saw people who looked like they were buried in troubles and people who looked like the only problems in their live were what to wear and which shoes to combine with that.

It's strange how, in such a small room, all those people could just come and escape the cold, harsh outside world for a while and just savor the warmth of the liquid in the cup in front of them.

It was the reason he loved coffee shops.

And at the same time, the reason he hated them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The door slammed close, sending a blast of cold winter air inside, making Kurt suddenly notice how cold it was outside. He touched his cheeks and noticed that his tears were frozen halfway. They started to melt already, so he wiped them away, put on a fake smile and looked around his apartment to see his boyfriend, no, his fianc� coming out of the kitchen.

"Hey babe! I didn't expect you back so soon!"

Elliot came walking over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Yeah, I…"

How do you tell your fianc� you ran into your ex and just spent an hour walking through the city trying to find a place that didn't remind him of Blaine?

"Just had a rough day I guess."

"Do you need anything?"

"No, just… Just some time alone. I need to maybe rethink some stuff…"

Elliot's face fell a little, but he nodded.

He all but ran into the bedroom, locked the door and turned around.

He walked to the bottom drawer of his closet and takes out a picture frame. It's a picture of Blaine, still in his Dalton uniform, smiling dapperly at the camera. Right underneath the picture, spelled with letters ripped out of his precious magazines was the word. Their word.

COURAGE.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was already late that night when he came home. It had been a good day, lots of tips, one lady even asking him to come and sing on a wedding or something. He just took her card. He didn't really care, he probably wouldn't even go. He took a beer out of the fridge and sat himself on the couch. He looked out the window and just sat there for a while, looking at the people coming, going, stepping into cabs, talking on the phone.

He wondered how it was possible to feel so utterly alone surrounded by so many people.

He went to bed only shortly after midnight, but he couldn't sleep, so he got back up and took his guitar out.

Even though he had played all night and his fingers were raw and painful but he kept playing, strumming the strings until a melody formed itself and he began to sing absentmindedly.

The stars lean down to kiss you

And I lie awake and miss you

Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere

He skipped a little piece of the lyrics because of the alcohol and the memories flooding his mind and pushing the importance of lyrics to the back of his consciousness.

He'd seen him today. At the coffee shop. Just like the old times.

Except it was nothing like it.

I'll watch the night turn light blue

But it's not the same without you

Because it takes two to whisper quietly

At the other side of New York Kurt finally looked up from his pillow. He had taken his decision. He sat up and looked out the window. He saw the hectic movements and lights of Times Square and wondered how it was possible to feel so alone surrounded by so many people.

The silence isn't so bad

'Till I look at my hands and feel sad

'Cause the spaces between my fingers

Are right where yours fit perfectly

It had been so long since Blaine had actually held anyone's hand. Sure, he had slept around enough to forget him, but it had never lead to anything permanent. And even if it had, he probably wouldn't have thought it was worth holding hands. None of those hands would ever fit his anyway, the way Kurt's had.

I'll find repose in new ways

Though I haven't slept in two days

'Cause cold nostalgia

Chills me to the bone

Just like waking up in a bed, alone did, without the warmth of another body pressed against his.

All alone in too big a bed, too big an apartment for one.

All alone in a life that's meant for two.

But drenched in vanilla twilight

I'll sit on the front porch all night

Waist-deep in thought because

When I think of you I don't feel so alone

He stopped playing to take a big gulp of beer and wipe away the tears from his eyes again. What's with all the crying today? Like, is it regret your stupid decision from three years ago day or something? Because if it isn't, they should probably make it that right now.

I don't feel so alone,

I don't feel so alone

Fuck this shit.

He will always feel fucking alone when Kurt is with that Elliot kid.

By now he knows he's been stupid, okay?

Dear Life, could you please stop rubbing it in my face?

Dear every song, could you please not remind me of my ex who is about to marry someone else?

As many times as I blink

I'll think of you tonight

I'll think of you tonight

...Dear ex, could you please not marry someone else?

When violet eyes get brighter

And heavy wings grow lighter

I'll taste the sky and feel alive again

His voice breaks on the last note and for the umpteenth time that night, he is reduced to a sobbing, pathetic little pile of human.

Because he doesn't think he'll ever feel alive again. Not with Kurt crying because of him. Not with Kurt marrying someone else. Not with Kurt gone from his life.

Not with Kurt being happy with someone else…

Oh darling, I wish you were here…

He cries himself asleep that night, just like the night before.

And the night before that.

And the night before…

And all the nights since he let Kurt go three years, five months, three weeks and two days ago.

But who's counting?