He set his coffee down on the furthest outside table to the right, the one next to the increasingly tall pot plant, and sat down the way he had always sat down, left leg crossed over right. He knew this part of New York better than the back of his hand; he knew where the nearest bus stop was, the closest all night pharmacy, the best place for Italian. Faye's was the place he knew the best though. He'd gone there almost every single day since he'd started college, and that had been a little more than a year ago. He'd only chose Faye's at first because it was pretty much the closest coffee shop to his college, but soon enough it became more than a coffee shop to him. It was the place he came to straight after classes ended; he'd order the same coffee, smile at the same barista, take the same route through the cluster of tables, and precede to take up his normal position.

This routine offered a sort of comfort to him; a small amount of routine to the otherwise crazy lifestyle he lived, one that many New Yorkers shared. Faye's was small and seemed so insignificant compared to the large skyscrapers and the intimidating force of large chain coffee shops and superstores, but Kurt supposed that was because it was. It wasn't for him, however. For Kurt it was a necessity. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to cope without it. He loved college, of course he did, but it was a lot of a work, and that was without all the additional activities he took part in to boost his chances. The coffee shop was his little sanctum of peace, the place he went to calm down before he returned to the massive pile of assignments that were threatening to destroy what he had left of his social life.

He sighed and took a sip of his coffee, staring out into the clustered street. People watching had become one of his favourite hobbies that he had, or at least he liked to believe he had, perfected. Not that people watching was actually that hard, but there was certain things Kurt knew just did not go down well when you were people watching. For one, staring at someone to the point of them noticing was not a great idea, and gaping stupidly wasn't terribly attractive.

So Kurt only let his eyes linger briefly on each person, taking in their appearance only slightly and focusing no more than a little on the clothes they were wearing, which was strange for him because for most of the day he'd been studying all things clothing in depth, looking for the little details and picking out things that made each item of clothing work. He blinked slowly and clutched his drink with both hands, the warmth of the liquid emanating through the coffee cup, bringing a welcome amount of heat to the tips of his fingers, the rest of his hands covered by his favourite fingerless gloves, and his most fashionable, of course.

His adjusted his scarf and stared out into the steady stream of New Yorkers, each with their own agenda and their own place to go, the infinite possibilities of who they were fascinating to Kurt. He loved New York for that; he loved the fact that no matter where you were, no matter what you were doing, there were always new things to see and to discover, as clich�d and as sappy as that sounded. Kurt had never really had that before. Living in Lima for as long as he did, he'd become heavily accustomed to the humdrum of life there, nothing really standing out anymore.

A tall man walked past him, the suitcase that was gripped in his hand bearing an emblem that Kurt didn't recognise. His hair was slicked back and Kurt was frankly mortified by the comb over that the man had obviously spent about two seconds on. A woman was behind him, her pink heels clicking against the concrete at a fast, steady rhythm that was just the tiniest element in the huge symphony of noise that constantly consumed New York. She had her hair in a tight bun and the scissor skirt she was wearing clung to her tightly, limiting the amount of distance she could step. She looked just as business-like as the man in front of her, her face tense and her nose angled just slightly more upwards than was the norm.

Kurt watched as taxis made their way slowly down the packed street, parting the people who had been forced off of the pavement by the rush of busy individuals. The colourful arrangement of scarfs stood out in the otherwise average arrangement of outfits, the surprisingly cold autumn day prompting people to delve into their winter wardrobe a little earlier than in previous years. Kurt's eyes stuck on a man who was exhibiting a striking bright scarf, the pink and orange jumping out at him, and not in a good way. But before Kurt could get a good luck at the man, he'd disappeared behind a large group of giggling girls, their laughs almost as obnoxious as the scarf.

Kurt closed his eyes and rested his chin on his knuckle, his elbow leaning on the cold wood of the table to hold his head up. He let the noise of the indecipherable crowd fill his ears and wash away what was left of the stupidly long lecture he'd almost died in that afternoon, and opened his eyes again, his eyes lingering on nothing this time; just watching.

Kurt came back the next day, as per usual, and sat at his normal table, instantly taking in the overcrowded street. He didn't really know why he found the vast arrangement of noisy people so comforting, in fact, you would have expected him to hate being in such a place after the sort of days he usually had. But Kurt loved it. Maybe it was because of the strange aura of mystery that surrounded each and every unknown person, he didn't know.

It was colder that day, the chilly wind brushing against his face and causing a light reddening to colour the top of his cheeks, a pink settling on the edge of his nose too, to his dismay. The almost scalding coffee heated his insides, sending a brief rush of warmth through his body as his eyes travelled along the path of a passing bus. He sighed and stared up at the clouds, the evening sun just peeking through the grey and splaying clumsily across the street.

It was half past five when he caught sight of the same flamboyant scarf, the colours so striking that the man wearing the scarf might as well have been carrying a huge lantern or something. Kurt sighed; some people just had no taste at all, did they? Well, he thought that right up until he caught sight of the man's face. At that moment, all previous thoughts about the scarf were lost, Kurt's mind short-circuiting at the sight. He had curls, and normally to Kurt, this wouldn't really be a turn on at all, but the way this man's dark brown curls framed his face, he found himself unable to take his eyes of them. He was quite a distance away, across the street and heading down the street, his pace steady and his movements light. Kurt momentarily forgot his rule of strictly not giving people the once over, and actually craned his neck to try and follow the man's movements, but before he could get a better look, he'd disappeared around the corner, leaving Kurt just the tiniest bit frustrated.

He mentally slapped himself and tried to work out why exactly he would take such interest. Was his life that empty? Sure, he hadn't exactly been in a successful relationship for quite a while, and the steadily diminishing round of one nightstands that he'd lowered himself into over the summer had been wiped away by the steadily growing pile of coursework and assignments, not that he really cared, but was he really that desperate?

Kurt smiled warmly at the barista as she strolled out of the shop for her break, quickly lighting a cigarette and drawing on it, a relaxed look set upon her face. Kurt finished his coffee, returned the cup to the cleaning tray inside the shop and brushed past the barista quickly as he made his way down the street to his apartment, walking the way the man had come, the bright orange and pink still set in his mind.

Kurt continued to see the man; his scarf and his strangely consistent smile never failing to lighten up the street. Kurt found himself looking forward to his people watching more and more every day, but not for the people, for the person. Kurt ignored the fact that the man had probably noticed his definitely rather creepy stares, but Kurt didn't think he minded, judging by the way that this man spent most of his time smiling at the world.

Kurt would let his eyes draw up every bit of detail he could of the man before he disappeared around the corner: his clothes, usually some kind of cardigan and a pair of pretty nice jeans; the way there were always a few curls that had strayed onto his forehead; the fact that the man seemed to have some kind of increasingly adorable emotional connection with the nauseating scarf.

Kurt's eyes lit up whenever he saw him, his attention immediately pin-pointed on one soul among hundreds. He was so entranced by the man that he barely took time to think about how strange this whole thing was, and the fact that he was possibly becoming obsessed with the man whose name he didn't even know. But he was gorgeous, Kurt reasoned. It was only natural, right?

Two weeks later and November 1st had come about, the strong wind forgotten as Kurt strolled into Faye's, quickly ordering his coffee and proceeding to sit outside, despite the cold that seemed to sting his cheeks as he huddled against the back of his chair, wrapping his arms around himself instinctively. The streets were getting less busy everyday, the once hectic area free of the after work shoppers and giggling students, only people making their way home from the nearby college and various people leaving work and walking quickly to get home.

Despite the loss of the hustle and bustle of the summer, Kurt didn't mind, because fewer crowds meant a better view of the man. He was about to question himself on this particular view on the situation when the still smiling face of the man came into his line of vision, his pace even quicker than in previous days, his backpack swinging from where he had it hanging off of his right shoulder. Kurt flickered his eyes down to his coffee for just a second before looking back up, inwardly laughing as the man tripped slightly over an uneven pavement stone, landing with one foot on the road. Upon seeing the upcoming bus, he ran to Kurt's side of the road, gesturing wild apologises at the bus driver who didn't look at all amused.

The man readjusted his bag so it was across his left shoulder, and walked closer and closer to Kurt, unaware of the boy's stare and his quickening heartbeat. Kurt very briefly caught the curly haired man's eye, and received a small eye roll and a little laugh that pretty much made Kurt's heart implode, which probably explained why he barely made any facial response, just gaping a little as the man passed by him quickly, just catching the inscription on his backpack: 'Blaine'. It looked like it had been drawn with black sharpie. Kurt decided rather quickly that he quite liked the name Blaine, turning his head quickly to watch as Blaine crossed back over the street and turned round the corner, his head of curls disappearing from Kurt's sight. Kurt looked down at his coffee, biting his lip as a huge smile took over his face, all sense of the cold lost.

Another week passed and it was the seventh, and Kurt was completely exhausted, having endured half an hour of Rachel Berry ranting about him turning the heating on in their apartment when he could have easily just put on a sweater. Kurt just stood there silently as usual, letting her enjoy her little shouting fest. He'd come to learn this about Rachel; she, as an increasingly achieving actor, needed her time to just let it out. Kurt knew the feeling, very well in fact. He'd managed to survive another day of college despite the poor amount of sleep he'd had the night before, and was relieved to just be able to sit for a while.

He crossed his legs, cradling his high-caffeine mocha, Faye's speciality that day, and entered the routine of people watching, checking his watch every so often, knowing that five thirty was the most probable time for Blaine to make his appearance. But five thirty came around, and Blaine hadn't appeared at all, and Kurt, for reasons that he didn't really understand, started to get worried. His mocha was gone and Blaine's head of curls and obnoxiously coloured scarf still hadn't graced the street that was looking increasingly grey and empty in Kurt's eyes. He tapped his finger on the table impatiently, glaring out into the distance, ignoring, for the first time ever, the female barista's 'hello', in favour of blocking out the rest of the world and concentrating on finding one thing.

After twenty minutes of admittedly pointless waiting, Kurt finally gave up and started on his way home, deciding that he'd bypass the pile of assignments and designs and lounge in front of the television instead, probably with something unhealthy and totally satisfying to eat. He latched his eyes to the pavement, not looking up and watching his feet. A thin sheen of ice had formed on the ground and Kurt steered away from it carefully, making sure he didn't slip up and make a complete and utter fool of himself. It was working perfectly, or it was up until he walked straight into something and a flash of orange and pink met his eyes, before he found himself sprawled across the ground in possibly the most ungraceful manner he could ever imagine.

Before he knew it, a strong hand had taken hold of his forearm and he was pulled up with such ease that he silently questioned if he'd lost weight or something. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to find the courage to open his eyes and apologise profusely to whomever he had just walked straight into, and then quickly exit. But when he looked up, he most certainly didn't regret it. His eyes instantly met golden ones, and he quickly caught sight of the familiar head of dark curls and the orange and pink scarf that was wrapped loosely around the man's neck, Blaine's neck.

Kurt stood silently for a second, brushing some dirt off of his black skinny jeans slowly.

"I'm so sorry…I wasn't looking where I was going." Kurt's words were rushed as he lifted a hand to assess his hair and flatten a few stray locks of hair down.

Blaine laughed and lifted his hands in front of his chest, "Don't worry, um…"

"Kurt," The countertenor verified. "And you're Blaine."

"Yeah, yeah I am. How did you know…oh." Blaine smiled and rolled his eyes in an action that made Kurt's knees weak. Was this guy constantly happy or…?

"Well thank you," Kurt smiled back, adjusting his shoulder bag and fixing his shirt, unaware of Blaine's lingering eyes. "I better be off."

"You go to a college around here, I take it." Blaine's attempts at conversation were highly welcome, but still startling to Kurt.

"Yeah, yeah I do." Kurt confirmed, pointing to the badge on his shoulder bag displaying the emblem of his fashion college.

"Ah, that's so cool. I used to go to a music college back in Ohio but…well, it wasn't really for me," Blaine shrugged. "Anyway, I better not keep you. I might see you around."

Blaine was gone before he could even utter a reply. He couldn't do anything but stand there for a moment, utterly consumed by emotions. Ohio? Did he really say that? Kurt shrugged to himself and continued walking. There were loads of people from different states in New York. It wasn't all that surprising.

"What's wrong with you?" Rachel asked, barging into their apartment and chucking her bag on the sofa next to Kurt.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, scribbling notes down into his jotter.

"You're smiling." Rachel shrugged, plucking a pear from the fruit bowl and taking a quick bite out of it before sitting down on the edge of the coffee table, staring down at Kurt's notes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise I wasn't allowed to be happy, Rachel." Kurt responded coolly, but still not letting the smile leave his face. He hadn't been able to get rid of it since his encounter with Blaine.

"No, I mean, it's not as if you're always a complete personification of misery," Kurt raised a perfect eyebrow, "I just know how much your work has been stressing you out. You're usually swearing at whatever it is you write, not smiling at it."

Kurt continued to write, "I just had a good day."

"You met someone." Kurt's head shot up to meet a smug smile that seemed to fit Rachel perfectly. Kurt tried his best to keep his expression neutral.

"No, I just had a good day." He insisted, but the smirk wouldn't leave her lips.

"Sure, Kurt. Sure." She responded knowingly, standing up and sauntering away from him.

Kurt watched her enter her bedroom before breathing out heavily and dropping his pen, leaning back against the sofa. All he'd done today was make a complete and utter fool of himself in front of the man he'd been ogling for the last month or so. So why was he so indescribably happy? He'd just begun to question his insanity when the image that he'd met when he'd been pulled up from the ground flashed into his eyes. He understood instantly then.

Kurt continued to see Blaine, exchanging just the slightest smile with him as he passed him on the other side of the street. Blaine still displayed the same highly endearing happiness that Kurt had noticed the first time he'd seen him, and the scarf still hung around his neck, never failing to put a grin on Kurt's face.

When the Christmas holidays finally came around, Kurt found himself torn. He had the urge to continue having his daily coffee at Faye's, but he knew there really wasn't much point. That didn't stop him constantly thinking about it though, and that didn't stop his heart overtaking his brain. So there he sat on the first Monday morning of his holidays, at the table by the window, inside for once to avoid the almost painful December chill that stung every New Yorker's cheeks and kept even the most adventurous of children inside. Kurt shuddered despite the warmth of the coffee shop, and stared outside at the relatively deserted streets, watching a mother and her two children who were hanging onto her arms, letting their feet slide along the ice, laughing so loud that Kurt could hear them inside the shop.

He waited, bought another coffee when he finished his first, and waited some more. Five thirty passed but Kurt still waited, keeping his eyes set on the streets even when the cheery barista asked for his order. He really didn't care if it was stupid anymore, and he didn't care that a little part of him told it was so every time he cursed himself for blinking as his sharp stare latched on to everything moving in the cold street.

Blaine didn't come. Kurt sat there for an hour, staring intently out of the window despite his steadily falling hopes. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been; not only for believing that Blaine's schedule would actually be the same, despite it being the holidays, but for the fact that he'd even do this. He sighed and sat back completely, knowing full well that the whole situation was probably making him look borderline insane. He leant against the palm of his hand, defocusing his eyes so everything was a blur, and continued with his people watching, trying hard not to think about the person.

Kurt linked his arm with Rachel's, feeling her lean ever so slightly against him, the heat of her body comforting. The late afternoon had found them both with their diaries empty and their boredom driving one another insane. To rectify this problem, Rachel suggested a walk. Kurt couldn't even form a sentence to verify his agreement, as Rachel had immediately pulled him off of the sofa with super scary strength and had shoved his coat at him with a large smile.

"Rach, where exactly are we going?" Kurt asked, shivering as he rubbed his hands together and looked at her pointedly. She smiled, considering.

"You know that little park? The one near that coffee shop you like to go to?"

"Faye's?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Let's go there. We haven't been there for ages." Rachel bounced up a little and Kurt nodded, letting her lead him a little too quickly for his liking down the street, her gloved hand clinging to his arm.

They entered the park, and Kurt was immediately glad that they had come there. There was one main path that led through the square park. It was long, numerous benches lining the sides of it, each one dedicated to someone. The evergreen trees there towered above everything else, their branches seeming to reach out to each other, forming an effective veil over the park. A thin layer of frost still coated the grass despite it being almost six o'clock by the time they made it there. Kurt smiled; it was pretty.

Rachel led him to one of the nearest benches, sitting them down and crossing her legs, instantly closing her eyes and breathing in the cold air. Kurt leaned against her this time, a smile gracing his face, and watched as a family walked past, the parents carrying multiple shopping bags and the children's faces bright at the thought of the imminence of Christmas.

"Wow." Rachel breathed, finally opening her eyes and facing Kurt.

"Wow." Kurt agreed, feeling freer than he had in a long time.

"Who would've known? New York, Kurt. Sometimes I still can't believe we're here." Rachael continued, laughing quietly.

"I know; and this, all of this, college and our flat and…just everything. I never thought I'd actually get out of Lima, let alone Ohio." Kurt sounded astounded, and maybe that was because he was. He'd never expected half of what he'd got.

"Three years ago I was obsessing over Finn and getting the lead in the play, but now, I have a job Kurt, I have a job as an actress! I mean, it might not be that much now, but once they see me in the opening of The Song of the Morning, then I'll be away, right? In fact, yes. Everything will get so much bigger, for both of us Kurt, I can see it." After all these years, Rachael had never lost her optimism, and despite the fact that Rachael's attitude used to annoy him to no ends, it didn't now, on the contrary. Even when Finn has bypassed New York to continue working with his dad in the garage, Rachel hadn't given up. She had been heartbroken, Kurt knew that, but she'd moved on and looked for bigger things.

Kurt responded with a dimpled smile and squeezer her hand, closing his eyes again as she lent her head against his shoulder. They sat there for a while, not speaking a word but not needing to, letting all the stress of their daily life dissolve into the night air. Their reverie was only broken when a voice cut through the silence, startling them both. Kurt turned his head quickly, realising that it wasn't just a voice that was reverberating in his ears, but a song; a song that he instantly recognised. He couldn't see the singer, nor could did he catch sight of the guitar that was being played, whoever was singing probably being concealed by the trees. He sat back again and turned to Rachel who was grinning, obviously having recognised the song too.

"Teenage Dream," She laughed. "Whoever that is has a pretty good voice, maybe a little breathy but-"

"Shh, I want to listen." Kurt cut her off, because, yes, whoever was singing did have a pretty good voice; an amazing voice in fact. Rachael rolled her eyes, and tugged him up.

"We'll start walking then, we need to start getting back anyway, besides I'd like to take a look at him…if his looks are of the same standard as his singing-"

"Rachel!" Kurt scolded, but laughed along with her.

"What? I'm lonely, Kurt." She giggled, placing her hand over her heart and pouting.

They walked further along the park path, until finally, they could see the source of the voice and the terribly cheesy song. Kurt's jaw very nearly dropped at the sight. He could recognise that scarf from a mile away. Rachel smirked at his expression as they moved closer and closer towards him, "See something nice, Kurt?"

"What-no. No…don't know what you're talking about." Kurt mumbled, still staring at the wild curls and the way Blaine's right hand moved quickly to strum the guitar, his voice working its way into his brain, Kurt's defences pretty much useless.

"Uh huh. Well, at least I know my assumption was correct," Rachel winked at him and Kurt cursed his pale complexion as he blushed. "Let me find my purse…"

She extracted the red leather purse from her handbag and pulled out a couple of dollars, striding confidently towards Blaine, the curly haired boy's eyes having still not caught Kurt's presence. Kurt could do nothing but follow Rachel as she all but skipped over to Blaine. Rachel entered Blaine's range of sight and bent down to place the money in his guitar case, receiving an incredibly gracious smile from Blaine.

"Kurt!" She called out. Kurt had to physically restrain himself from smacking himself on the head. "Aren't you going to-"

"Yes, yes, Rachel. I'm coming." Blaine stopped his song as he caught sight of Kurt who was rummaging through his jean pocket, finding a crumpled up ball of dollars among an arrangement of soft mint wrappers. Kurt looked up and caught Blaine's eye, immediately shocked by the intensity of the colour of his eyes, the gold piercing straight into him. He joined Rachel as she complimented Blaine's singing and dropped the money into the case, wrapping his arms around himself as he did so.

"-really are very good you know." Rachel's voice was a bit too loud for Kurt's liking as he just stood there, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with Blaine at the fear of possibly melting at the sight of his gaze.

"Thank you, that means a lot." Blaine replied, his voice causing Kurt to fidget with his sleeves. Kurt didn't miss the spark in Rachel's eyes as an idea formed in her head. He knew exactly what was to come next.

"You wouldn't happen to me interested in maybe going for a coffee or something sometime, would you?" Kurt damn near cringed at her words, feeling more and more awkward every second.

"I'd love to, and you seem like a lovely girl but…not on your team." Blaine shrugged, laughing lightly, missing the way Kurt's eyes widened at the new information. Rachel just raised an eyebrow, unfazed.

"Well in that case, maybe Kurt would-"

"Right, Rachael. We've got to go," Kurt said quickly, taking Rachael's arm and sending her a look that he hoped expressed what he'd really like to say to her. "I've got stuff to do. So have you."

Rachael sighed and rolled her eyes, "Sure."

Blaine chuckled and shot them a 'goodbye' as Kurt practically dragged Rachel away. Kurt turned back once to send what he thought was probably one of the most awkward smiles he'd ever had form upon his face, and tried hard to convince himself that the wink he received back from Blaine had been formed by his overactive imagination. He knew deep down it hadn't been.

Kurt found it incredibly hard to get to sleep that night, tossing and turning so many times that he thought he might be going mad. There were so many things going through his head, attacking and destroying all of Kurt's attempts at asleep and ravaging ever single rational thought he had left in his mind, of which incidentally, there weren't many. Every thought was of Blaine, of course; Blaine and that damn scarf. He groaned and covered his face with his arms, hearing Rachel's snores from the room next to his. Blaine was gay. Kurt didn't know why this made him so happy, especially seeing that he had no chance with him, but it did. He knew he was being so stupid, he knew that he had a very blatant crush on the man he barely knew, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It had been way too long since his last successful relationship (he laughed internally at the thought of his last 'successful' relationship, and his only 'successful' relationship, which had ended in his partner just telling him simply that things weren't working) and he was grabbing onto anything, not that Blaine was just anything, because he really wasn't.

He really, really wasn't.

"Anyone siting there?"

It was Christmas Eve and Kurt was sheltering in the coffee shop. Rachel had invited her dads over for Christmas, and as much as Kurt liked them, they happened to share many of Rachel's personality traits, and Kurt didn't think he could handle two or so days straight of the equivalent of three Rachel Berry's constantly in his ear. So he'd sought refuge in Faye's, moving to the back of the shop for once and sinking into one of the plush leather chairs, his coffee on the table and his cheek against the palm of his hand as he flicked through his book, not really taking anything in but reading anyway.

So when the sudden voice cut straight into him, he jerked his head up, meeting the eyes of someone he certainly wasn't expecting to see. Blaine's eyes were sparkling and a smile graced his still tanned face (how, Kurt thought, it's winter for God's sake), his guitar case hanging by the shoulder strap and the damn scarf hanging loosely around his neck. Kurt was stunned; he hadn't seen him since the park incidence, despite hopefully scoping the park a couple times in an act that he physically slapped himself for when he returned to flat to a curious Rachel.

Kurt's eyes darted around the room, assessing why Blaine might want to sit on the seat across from him, and seeing all other chairs taken apart from one next to a rather grumpy looking woman, he spoke, "Sure." He tried to sound relatively casual, but his voice still came out way too squeaky for his liking. Blaine grinned and set his coffee order down, hanging the guitar off of the chair and sitting gracefully down, hitting his foot against Kurt's accidently as he crossed his legs.

There was a moment of awkward silence, or at least it was awkward for Kurt, Blaine just continued to grin.

"So what brings you to Faye's?" Kurt finally said, remarking internally how stupid that probably sounded.

"Oh, just some extra money, you know? I asked if I could maybe sing here today. I always sing on Christmas Eve." Blaine replied, gesturing to his guitar energetically as Kurt died a little inside. He wasn't sure he'd be able to survive Blaine signing again, especially not if he was going to be, what, three meters away from, on the little built in stage.

"Have you ever sung here before?" Kurt asked, although he was pretty sure Blaine hadn't.

Blaine shook his head, "No, but I've always liked the look of this place, and you seem to like it quite a bit."

Kurt blushed instantly, clutching his coffee so tightly that he was a little scared of breaking the mug, "Good coffee." Kurt shrugged as Blaine lifted his chin up slightly, stretching his neck calmly, still smiling.

Kurt sipped at his coffee, well aware of Blaine's stare but refusing to meet it in case the hazel orbs rendered him speechless. He was already being awkward enough, and he didn't think suddenly becoming mute would lessen the tension in the air that only he seemed to be breathing.

"So…" Blaine started, tapping his fingers on his coffee, obviously trying to start conversation, and of that, Kurt was glad, "Where're you from then? You definitely don't have an accent from around here."

"Oh, um, Lima. It's in-"

"Ohio? That's cool, I'm an Ohio boy too," Blaine beamed. "Westerville."

"Wow, really? My parents were going to send me to this posh high school there to keep me…yeah, tuition fees there were really high," Kurt shrugged, and Blaine's eyebrows rose as his eyes lit up again. "Dalton, or something like that."

"Dalton, huh?" Blaine bit into his biscotti. Kurt nodded.

"Have you heard of it?" Kurt asked, not missing how Blaine's body seemed to jerk a bit excitedly as he verified the name of the school.

"You could say that." Blaine's lips quirked as Kurt's brow furrowed in confusion. Kurt shrugged it off and asked no more, despite the urge he had to delve deeper.

"Oh, six, time to roll." Blaine said as he glanced at his watch, before standing and pushing the chair in, lifting his guitar up too.

"Good luck." Kurt smiled.

"Oh, I don't need luck, sweetcheeks," Blaine winked. Kurt only raised an eyebrow, putting on an unimpressed fa�ade, ignoring the way his heart was attempting to pound straight out of this chest. Blaine laughed. "I'm kidding. I need all the luck I can get. I'll probably forget the lyrics or muck up another chord or something stupid like that."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Kurt responded. "But if it helps, I can cross my fingers for you?"

Kurt lifted his hand up from his coffee and crossed his fingers, making sure Blaine could see. Blaine bit his lip to contain his smile.

"That would be much appreciated." He laughed and then turned towards the stage.

Kurt watched intently (maybe a little too intently) as Blaine set up, watching the way his eyebrows would move oppositely whenever he was making a decision, and the way he took his guitar out of its case witch such care that it might have been made out of glass. Almost every single pair of eyes in the coffee shop was trained on the man who was now strumming out a few random chords, humming ever so slightly as he did so.

When he began to sing, Kurt very nearly just got up and left, or at least he would've, if it hadn't been for the fact that he was so entranced by Blaine's performance that he could barely breath, let alone walk. He was slowly losing hope of ever getting out of Faye's alive, considering the way he was trying hard to not start hyperventilating. Like the Sirens, Blaine had this strange instant power on him, and Kurt was sure that if Blaine continued to sing for the next couple of days straight, he wouldn't leave.

Blaine finished his program a lot quicker than Kurt would have liked, and after receiving one of the largest rounds of applause that Kurt thought he'd ever heard in the coffee shop, he sat down across from Kurt. It was only then that he noticed the sweat on Blaine's brow, the way it stuck the couple of stray ringlets to his forehead. Kurt decided then that it was incredibly attractive.

"You've still got your fingers crossed." Blaine observed, his voice warm and a little breathy.

"Oh…yeah, I have," Kurt giggled a little dizzily, uncrossing them quickly and stretching out his hand to bring back feeling to his fingers. "You were really good."

"Thanks. It's a miracle I didn't mess up." Blaine smiled.

"Nah, I'm just awesome luck."

Blaine locked his eyes onto Kurt's and, for once, the countertenor didn't avoid his stare, and let his eyes take in the beauty that was Blaine's. His heart had started up again, beating a little steadier now though, the rhythm audible in his ears. Kurt's eyes strayed down to Blaine's hands, his thumbs twiddling together quickly as if he was considering something.

"Look, Kurt-" Blaine was cut off by a ring, and Kurt immediately reached into his coat pocket to minimise the amount of disturbance as much as possible.

He accepted the call, sighing at the familiar name on his phone screen as he did so, and brought his iPhone to his ear, "What is it, Rachel?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes at Blaine as she ranted rather loudly at him, so loud that he had to hold his phone a couple of inches away from his ear so that he wouldn't destroy his hearing. He nodded and spoke a few words back, sighing as he hung up, "She wants me back. I'll wish goodbye to all sanity now."

Blaine laughed, "Flatmate?"

"Flatmate, old high school friend, general annoyance." Kurt replied, standing up and fixing his scarf.

"Oh, was she the one who was in the park with you?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded.

"Yep. That's her," Kurt smiled. "I better be off then."

Kurt stood a little awkwardly as he keyed into the way that Blaine was dragging his eyes down him. Blaine cleared his throat and spoke, "I'll have to come here more often. It's pretty nice."

"Yeah, it is." Kurt's eyes danced along Blaine's face.

"You know, I might just come back on Boxing Day." Blaine raised an eyebrow and fidgeted.

"Mmm, well I might see you then," Kurt smiled brightly, happiness rushing through him at the prospect. "Bye, Blaine. Have a good Christmas."

Blaine nodded and waved as Kurt spun on his heel and headed to the door, not hearing the bell on the door ringing due to the amount of noise the voices in his head were making. He hadn't felt anything like this for God knows how long. The fact that he was actually making progress with Blaine astounded him, and the smile never left his face, or at least it didn't until he opened the door to his flat and was promptly met with a very angry Rachel Berry. But there was still a voice of doom and gloom inside his head that would spew out words of discouragement every now again. So what if he'd gay, that doesn't mean he'd interested. He probably only sat next to you because he thought you were some loner or something. He was just being nice. Those thoughts didn't manage to break through the thick barrier of the happy ones though, and these thoughts alone managed to prevent Kurt from picking up the Christmas turkey and throwing it against the wall the next day as Rachel performed yet another carol in the eyes of her sickeningly adoring parents.

"That scarf really is hideous, you know?" Kurt slid into the seat across from Blaine who looked up immediately at the sound of Kurt's cheerful voice. It was Boxing Day, and Kurt had left the flat at exactly twenty-five past five, almost forgetting to put on his coat as he tore past a questionable Rachel. He'd practically skipped to Faye's, pretty much certain that he'd get what he'd been looking forward to pretty much all of Christmas Day.

Blaine looked down on himself in confusion, "No it's not."

"It is." Kurt insisted, leaning over to pull a little at it, the action prompting Blaine to look up with a sparkle in his eye.

"It's not." Blaine argued, pulling away and crossing his arms in front of his chest in defiance, not missing the way Kurt raised his right eyebrow just the tiniest bit.

"It really is, Blaine. What is it with you and that scarf anyway? I swear you never take it off." Kurt asked, smiling inside at the way their conversation was managing to be so smooth, even though they barely knew each other. He hadn't had a friend outside college for a long time, apart from Rachael anyway, and he was determined to make this work. He had a chance, with a very attractive man as well, and he wasn't about to let it slip through his fingers.

Blaine chuckled, "I like it!"

"God knows why," Kurt retorted, eyeing the scarf with a mixture of disgust and affection. "It's awful."

"If you'd care to stop insulting my scarf, maybe we could have a proper conversation?" Blaine suggested, prompting a small laugh from the slightly taller man.

"Fine. But I still despise it." Kurt gave in, but of course he didn't really have a choice, considering the large smile that was causing him to internally combust a little more every second.

"So, Kurt…" Blaine started, looking at the boy opposite him with a small glint in his eye. "Tell me a bit about yourself. The only thing I really know about you now is your first name and that you don't approve of pink and orange as a colour combination."

Kurt swallowed his coffee and considered, "There's not really much to say, to be honest."

"Tell me anything." Blaine entwined his hands on the table and Kurt followed the movement with his eyes, thinking quickly, his life rushing through his head in a way he hadn't experienced in quite a while.

"Right, well, I'm Kurt Hummel and I was born in Lima, Ohio, as I said. I'm 20, in my second year of college. My father still lives in Ohio, he works in a tire shop. I went to McKinley high which, incidentally, wasn't exactly a very accepting school. My mom died when I was eight and my dad remarried when I was 17. I have a stepbrother, his name is Finn," Kurt looked up at the ceiling, nibbling on his lower lip. Blaine's eyes were glued to Kurt, silently asking for more. "I sing. I was in a glee club at high school. I don't know what else to say…oh, and I'm gay." The words had left his lips so quickly that he hadn't even fully registered them yet. He didn't miss the way Blaine quickly swallowed, his expression changing ever so slightly.

"So what happened with the whole Dalton thing?" Blaine asked quietly, curiosity filling his eyes.

"I wasn't having a great time at McKinley. Things were starting to get a lot worse, and I started thinking about maybe," Kurt sighed as the unwanted memories broke into the front of his mind, "transferring. But I did have friends at McKinley, and I knew running away wouldn't solve anything, but I was tempted."

Blaine nodded, and Kurt drunk in the look of understanding that Blaine was conveying so perfectly, "I know how you felt. I had quite a bit of trouble at my high school too, but I ran away. Sometimes I wish I didn't, sometimes I wish I'd have just stood up and done something…but then I was, I don't know, scared I guess. I didn't want the risk. So I transferred to Dalton."

Kurt's eyes widened dramatically and he almost laughed out loud at the whole coincidence of it all, or at least he would have if the tone of their conversation hadn't have been what it was.

"You…you went to Dalton?" Kurt asked, barely believing it. Blaine nodded in confirmation, his spirits lightening at the sight of Kurt's wonder.

"That's so cool." Kurt remarked, lips slipping into yet another smile. Blaine nodded again, a light laugh expelling from his mouth.

"Would you like a little 'about me' too?" Blaine asked, taking Kurt's unadulterated interest to be a yes. "I'm Blaine Anderson, I was born in Westerville, Ohio to two of the richest, most stuck up people in the whole of Ohio. I have two little brothers, they're both still in high school back there. I play the guitar, obviously, and I was in the Warblers, the Glee Club at Dalton."

"Do you go to college here?" Kurt asked.

"Yes," Blaine nodded, "but I sing where I can as well, and I go to the odd audition every now and again."

"Why did you leave Ohio?" Kurt continued with his questions, wanting to know so much more than what he already did about the man in front of him, revelling in the fact that he had this chance to talk with Blaine, and the fact that Blaine seemed to be reciprocating.

"Probably the same reason you did, I'm guessing: To get away. I wanted a change." Blaine's answer prompted a knowing nod from Kurt, his eyes darting up and down Blaine's face with fascination. He'd never met someone so like him before, someone who he had a feeling went through some of the exact same stuff that he did.

"I'm just going to pop to the bathroom." Kurt smiled, waiting for Blaine's nod and then walking over to the men's.

As soon as he'd entered the cubicle, he slid to the floor. The whole thing was overwhelming him, but for once the overwhelming sense wasn't unwelcome, on the contrary. This meant a lot more to him than it probably should. He wanted to get to know Blaine and he was unbelievably happy that his bout of people watching had landed him this. He scrunched his eyes shut, trying to catch the breath that he hadn't even known he'd lost. He was nervous as well. Part of him wanted to just ask Blaine out, but another part of him was advising him not to. How could he be sure that Blaine wanted anything more than friendship? Was what they had friendship yet anyway? Kurt opened his eyes and bit his lip, deciding then that he'd wait it out. He didn't want to get too ahead of himself. He didn't want to get hurt again.

He stood up, brushing his jeans off as he did so, and sucked up all the courage he had, determined that he wouldn't melt as soon as Blaine flashed that damn grin at him. As soon as he walked back to the table, however, he knew that was going to be impossible, his heart practically skipping out of his chest at Blaine's excitable, puppy-like aura when he returned, something flashing in his eyes just for a moment.

They talked for quite a while, their conversation varying and each of them sharing things so freely that, to other people, they probably looked as if they'd known each other for years. When Kurt finally had to leave, knowing that Rachel would probably have a panic attack if he didn't get back by seven, he bid Blaine a quick farewell, made sure he insulted the scarf once more, and left, smiling all the way home.

He'd left in such a hurry that he hadn't even remembered to ask about whether Blaine wanted to meet him in the same place the next day or anything. He swore under his breath as he pressed the button for the elevator, stuffing his hands angrily in his coat pockets. He felt something against the fingers of his right hand, a piece of paper. He pulled the unknown paper out hastily and unfolded it, a rush of pure ecstasy coursing through his veins as he figured out what it was. It was a little ripped out piece of paper from an address book that definitely wasn't his, an inscription written sloppily but at the same time beautifully on it: '5551276, I couldn't resist. Blaine'.

Kurt re-read it at least six times, not even noticing that the elevator door had opened and that a very disgruntled man was tapping his foot behind him, waiting for him to enter so that he could follow. Kurt's smile returned, bigger than ever and he practically floated into the lift, ignoring the man's strange looks.

Kurt's thumb hovered over the screen of his iPhone, contradicting thoughts fighting out a seemingly endless battle in his head. It was the first of January, and Kurt had finally summoned the courage to dial the numbers into his phone, but had promptly lost all courage when the task of actually calling Blaine came about. If he did call, what on earth was he going to say? It was bound to be awkward, and what if Blaine thought he was too eager or something? On the other hand, Blaine was the one who'd actually given him his number, not vice versa, and their previous conversations had been mainly confortable, hadn't they?

Kurt groaned and chucked his phone down on his bed, bringing his hands to his face in frustration. What am I even doing, he thought. He decided he'd call Blaine tomorrow. Tomorrow.

Definitely.

"What are you doing?"

Kurt jumped at the voice; his head turning so quick that he'd probably be experiencing neck pains later. Rachel Berry stood at the door, her arms crossed over he chest and her eyes latched onto the phone in Kurt's right hand. Kurt opened his mouth and then closed it again as Rachael's eyebrows travelled further up her forehead.

"I…nothing." Kurt knew how stupid he sounded. He locked his iPhone quickly and put it on the bed next to him, aware of how Rachel had rolled her eyes and started moving towards the bed. She sat next to him, picking up his iPhone, and held it in her hand.

"Nothing? Really, Kurt?" She said sceptically. "Wait, what's this?"

Kurt scrambled to try and retrieve the piece of paper, but Rachel held it away from his reach, reading the inscription with curious eyes. Kurt groaned and let his forehead fall into his palm, knowing he'd probably be forced into some explanation and that Rachel Berry knows exactly when she's being lied to.

"Blaine," Rachel started, her tone laced with amusement at Kurt's embarrassment. "Care to tell me who he is?"

"Just someone I met." Kurt replied softly, not looking at Rachel.

"I require a more specific answer, Kurt." She said quickly, leaning towards him. Kurt rolled his eyes and made a noise of annoyance that Rachel ignored.

"Fine! He's the one we saw singing in the park." Rachel stared at him in disbelief, her mouth forming a silent 'o'.

"Oh my God. Really?" Her smile was evident in her voice and Kurt finally turned his gaze to her, snatching his phone back quickly.

"Yes, not that it's any of your business." Kurt said coolly, turning the phone around in his hand.

"Maybe not, but you two would make a really cute couple." Rachael mused.

"Rachael! We're just friends, honestly. At least I think we're friends…I guess." Kurt shrugged, shaking away the confused thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind again.

"You like him, don't you?" Rachel's words struck a chord within him, and Kurt's defences sprung up quickly. He was confused. Did he like him? He barely knew him, but did that matter? Rachael noticed the tension of his jaw and backtracked quickly. "Sorry, I just…do you?"

"I don't know." Kurt replied quietly, looking defeated.

"He gave you his number. Why not give it a go?" Rachel placed a hand on his knee, squeezing ever so slightly. Kurt looked straight into her eyes at that point and she gave him a look that gave him his answer. He nodded.

"Okay."

Kurt held his phone tightly, bringing it to his ear slowly, the ring causing another swell of nervous excitement to rush through his stomach. His arm was trembling slightly in anticipation and he was nibbling his lower lip vigorously. How badly can this possibly go, he thought. The rings seemed never ending and for a moment Kurt thought that Blaine would never pick up, but when he did, Kurt's stomach felt like it had just backflipped or something.

"Hello?" Blaine's voice was a little fuzzy through the phone, but it was definitely him.

"Hey. It's Kurt." Kurt replied, nervously, fiddling with his sleeve and standing randomly in the middle of his room.

"Oh, hi!" Blaine said excitably, his voice a little clearer. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

Kurt laughed, "No, that could never happen. I'm still having nightmares about that god-awful rag you wear."

Kurt received a quick laugh in return, "What is it with you? It's honestly not that bad."

"It really is, Blaine," Kurt was overjoyed at how smoothly this was going, so glad that their conversation had so far been free of any awkward silences. "Anyway, I'm not really sure what to say right now but I thought it'd be a bit rude not to call."

Kurt groaned internally. Oh, fantastic. Now it sounds like you didn't want to call him, which is totally untrue. That's all you've been thinking about for the last…well since he gave you the damn number, Kurt thought.

"Well, I'm glad you called," Blaine laughed, obviously not bothered by Kurt's statement. "I'm singing at Faye's again tomorrow. Fancy coming along?"

"Sure." Kurt said quickly, maybe a little too eagerly.

"Great! I'm starting at six." Blaine's voice was bright, making Kurt smile. Kurt heard another voice, but it was too quiet for him to make out the words. Blaine replied to whatever the other person had said, obviously muffling the phone with his hand. "I've got to go now, Kurt. Alec's calling."

"Alec?" Kurt asked quickly.

"Oh, my boyfriend. I'll see you tomorrow then, Kurt. Bye!" Blaine hung up before Kurt could even form a reply.

Kurt collapsed onto the bed, his head cloudy and his heart heavy. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. Of course Blaine had a boyfriend. How the hell could he not have a boyfriend? He bit his lip so hard that it hurt, his stomach feeling like it was slowly being crushed. Blaine wasn't interested in him. Why the hell would he be interested in him? He was no-one, just some random loner who couldn't keep his eyes off Blaine. Why would Blaine want anything more than friendship with him? Why?

Kurt groaned and turned so his forehead was pressed against the pillow, very nearly screaming into it. Blaine hadn't been flirting with him, had he? That was probably just how Blaine was, overly happy and affectionate. Kurt tried to lighten up, tried to tell himself that it was still okay; he'd still made a friend, right? But it just made him even more depressed, and anger still flushed through him. He'd been stupid, so stupid.

Kurt didn't sleep well that night.