“Medium drip?” Kurt asked as cheerily as he could when Blaine approached the counter. He didn’t meet his boyfriend’s eyes, didn’t want anything that could trigger another flashback, and a trip to the bathroom in front of Blaine was just a little too much stress to consider right now. He started to walk over to the coffeemaker when Blaine took his hand gently, pulling Kurt back to him.

“Let Serena make it,” he suggested. Kurt could almost hear him smiling. Blaine intertwined their fingers and Kurt was still not looking at him, just staring at a spot on the counter where someone had spilled a little bit of sugar and hadn’t cleaned it up. “Hey,” Blaine said after a moment, sounding concerned, “What’s the matter?” Kurt didn’t answer. “Kurt,” he said, “Look at me.”

Kurt continued to stare at the sugar. “Everything’s fine, Blaine,” he said. But even he could tell that he was unconvincing, he didn’t care, he was tired and his body wanted to curl up and go to sleep but when he went to sleep everything got worse so why bother? If it was between this hell of anxiety and that hell of Dave and blood and fear, where the fuck was he supposed to go? “I don’t believe you,” Blaine said quietly. “Look at me.”

What else could Kurt do? He met those hazel eyes.