“I hate it,” Blaine says simply, letting her eyes rest on Kurt. She looks up then, looks up and around at the pristine white walls of the coffee shop, at the busy hustle and bustle of the customers being served by the baristas in their 1920’s Newsies style caps before she hears her girlfriend’s undignified scoff. She offers an incredulous what when she sees Kurt’s scrutinizing gaze staring her down, eyebrow quirked.

“Blaine, this is one of the best coffee shops in New York. Everyone at NYADA comes here. Rachel told me so.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Blaine answers with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Why the hell not?” Oh, wow. There’s Kurt’s bitch face.

“I just don’t,” she returns before she quickly stands up, making her way through the crowded shop and almost bumping into a hurrying businessman.

It’s not that she didn’t like the coffee. The coffee was fantastic, actually. Brewed to perfection, she might say. But to Blaine, it’s more than just that. To Blaine it’s about the moment shared over coffee rather than the coffee itself.

In such a busy, lively city full of noise and eternal rush, Blaine wishes – dreams – of a peaceful conversation over two steaming cups. She dreams of quiet laughter, longing gazes and sweet goodbye kisses in a warm, hidden alcove before they each head off into this crazy city for their busy days. She wants this to be their safe little space, their haven before their hectic day.

Kurt takes her to possibly every coffee shop in the city, all with their long lines and extravagant names and in each Blaine finds wonderful coffee, but just that.

It’s an early Saturday morning when Blaine finally finds it. The orange morning sunlight is still dawning over the eerily quiet city when Blaine wakes Kurt up with a slow, lingering kiss. They dress slowly, enjoying the oddly chilly morning air, all dopey giggles and sweet glances.

They reach the sidewalk in front of their building just as the sun peeks its way through the clouds, Blaine lacing her fingers with Kurt’s and happily tugging her on their way. They walk around for about an hour with no real rhythm or direction. It surprises Blaine that Kurt has yet to ask where they are headed, but she chalks it up to the sleepiness.

They come across a small coffee shop just before they make it back to their apartment. It’s almost as it it’s hidden from the rest of the world, stored away just for them. It’s quiet, warm and inviting. They sit and to the soft music they hum while they wait for their coffees. Hours pass and empty cups of medium drip coffees and non-fat mochas are replaced with fresh, new ones. Their soft laughter fills the air around them and scones turn cold, forgotten in favor of interesting conversation and good company.

New York has finally come to life right outside the old wooden door of the coffee shop. Kurt smiles and takes a sip of her drink, understanding in her eyes when she looks over at Blaine and says, “You love it.”

“I do.” Blaine smiles back. No more words are needed. They’ve found their place, their safe little haven.