The coffee shop was much quieter in early-evening, the eclectic feeling of the place really came out when the sky outside had already begun to darken, and the only thing that lit the far corners of the café were little hanging lights. They looked like stars, Kurt thought.

They also had really comfy chairs. Classic, old, comfy chairs that looked like they belonged next to a fireplace in a warm home. Home. Kurt really missed home. He hadn’t gone home last Christmas, instead he spent the entire summer working with Vogue.com. Isabelle generously offered to extend his internship, and Kurt would have been foolish to refuse.

It was still a few minutes before five, but Kurt was there, and knew waiting around the corner would probably just make him more anxious so he walked in early.

Blaine looked up from behind the counter as he cleaned the espresso machines. He gave Kurt a light smile, but a genuine one that still reached his eyes.

Kurt loved how when Blaine smiled, he’d get wrinkles right around the corners of his eyes. He used to laugh and kiss them and tell that adorable boy just how beautiful he was. Because when Blaine smiled, when Blaine smiled for him, Kurt couldn’t help but feel his insides flutter and all his worries melt away.

A few minutes later, Kurt was sitting in those big, cushioned chairs in the corner under those lights that reminded him of the stars Blaine had once shared with him as they listened to the silence of an autumn night, kept warm only by each other and the gentle beating of their own hearts, very, very much in love.

--

Blaine had disappeared to the back clock out and grab his keys.

He didn’t have to change, since he worked at a down-to-earth, homey little coffee shop that let him wear all the too-short pants and bowties he desired.

Sometimes he left the bowties at home, after Sam had shown him that he looked pretty decent without. However, Blaine really wasn’t ready to let go of the whole bowtie thing quite yet. After last Christmas, they were something he held onto as a reminder of Kurt. They reminded him of how Kurt used to adjust his bowties, even though Blaine knew he was an impeccable bowtie-tie-er. You don’t wear a one every day from the age of five and tie a sloppy bowtie. He would’ve been insulted, had anyone else dared to adjust his colorful little works of art, but when Kurt did it, it was intimate, it made him feel warm, loved.

Plus, he somewhat enjoyed going back to his lonely dorm room smelling like coffee, croissants, and overpriced miniature cupcakes.

--

Kurt looked up as Blaine set a coffee on the table between two of the old chairs and took a seat, his own coffee in hand. He sipped it slowly before resting it on the table as well.

A silence fell over them, as each waited for the other to speak first.

“…Why did you do it?”

That could have been more tactful, Kurt thought to himself, cringing a little. But he needed to know and didn’t want to wade through senseless pleasantries with that question burning in the back of his mind. So he just…asked.

Blaine seemed taken aback by the sudden inquiry, but eventually opened his mouth to speak. He closed it again, in thought, and then started.

--

Kurt sat there in silence. Listening to the boy next to him.

“…But, you were in New York, Kurt, and I felt like I was losing you, and that you were moving on, and there wasn’t a place for me anymore, and I’m so sorry, I think I just...”

It was the same thing he’d heard already, that Blaine felt alone, that Blaine didn’t mean it, that Blaine was sorry. He wondered if he had made a mistake, asking again. And then Blaine started crying.

“…I know I ruined everything. And I just can’t stop hating myself for it. We were supposed to be forever. I know I don’t deserve you, I don’t. I ruined the one good thing in my life because I was stupid and I was insecure and I was a coward, Kurt. I was. I’m so, so sorry Kurt. I’m so sorry and I-”

Kurt’s phone rang. He was relieved that Rachel had kept her promise, but he silenced the call.

“I know.”

“You do?” Blaine swallowed.

“I know. I just…can’t forget, Blaine. I don’t know if I ever can. I’m doing by best to forgive you, I’m trying again. But it still happened, we can’t just, wipe it away, I mean, it happened, Blaine.”

Blaine took a shaky breath, “I’m not asking you to. I’m…not even asking you to forgive me anymore. I just, thank you for letting me explain, it means so much to me already Kurt, I couldn’t ask you for anything more. And I promise, I won’t.”

Kurt nodded silently.

“But. Kurt, I just want you to know, I still care about you. So much. If-if you ever need anything, I’ll always- always- be here for you Kurt, as…”

Blaine trailed off, unsure if he should continue. Kurt had given him a chance to explain himself but he didn’t want to scare Kurt away again.

“a friend?” Kurt finished.

“I-I mean…if that’s what you want. If you, you know, if you don’t, I understand. I do, I know-”

“I’d like that.” Kurt interrupted. The boy still knew how to ramble.

Silence descended between them once more, but an easier one than before. They sat, sipping their coffee but not tasting it. They sat while Blaine collected himself. They sat as Kurt’s hand instinctively reached for Blaine’s thigh to comfort him. It was a reassuring gesture, one they had both missed.

And then they talked in between long sips of coffee, the conversation was shallow but not strained. When one thought of something to say, they spoke. When they could think of nothing, they relaxed in each other’s presence.

--

Blaine and Kurt stood outside the café, having been kicked out at closing, the only movement from their shadows as cars passed on the street.

The night was icy, the morning fizz had turned to frost that collected on windows and street lamps and sidewalks. Still, they stood there in the quiet of the evening. Frost-bitten but never cold.

“Goodnight, Blaine.” Kurt said gently and took a step backward to leave.

“…Goodnight.” Blaine echoed shyly, turning to walk the opposite direction, back to the train station.

Half-way down the long city block, Blaine spun around and shouted, “Goodnight, Kurt!” with a smile, a real, honest-to-God smile. Kurt chuckled to himself, even now that curly-haired boy was so dorky, so darned adorably dorky. Without turning around, he raised his hand and waved before turning a corner.