It was a Monday, and everyone hated it.

The streets of Manila were filled with a variation of peeps living their own lives, most of them trying to soak up the fact that the fundamentals of education were seeping through their veins at this time of the year again. The others, though, were tired of their jobs that woke them up and fed their own stomachs, but still hungry for the freedom of time they had been depraved ever since their call time.

One of those others was Blaine, trying to get home by midnight. There wasn't much to look forward to anyway – the boy living with him would be sleeping by then, a cup of coffee takeout from Starbucks would be his own companion for the night as he tried to come up with words to fill in the spaces for another melody supplied by his piano.

The Manila Train Station wasn't as jam packed as he expected it to be, but every citizen occupying this train was sardined by the mixture of smells coming from deodorants, takeout food from Jollibee, some alcohol, and such.

If it wouldn't be for the traffic, he thought to himself.

As he drifted off to the city lights flickering, there were a pair of illuminating blue eyes that stood out.

Blaine wasn't even sure if it was blue. He swore that if by any chance he got closer, he would figure out that it had silvers and whites and a little honey scattered in those seemingly magical orbs.

He sat peacefully on one of the green seats, just a few footsteps away from him. He didn't notice Blaine noticing him because his eyes were staring at the city, amazed and overwhelmed at the same time.

“Crazy like New York, isn't it?” Blaine said, attempting to start a conversation with the young man.

Blue Eyed Boy (that's what Blaine called him in his mind) slowly dragged his eyes from the city and glanced at him, surprised to see him.

“It's a little tamer, I guess,” he replied civilly to him, then averted his gaze to the city back again.

Blaine tried to hide the upward curving forming through his lips. If his eyes weren't enough, his voice sounded like heaven.

He wanted to talk more, but there he was, effortlessly beautiful clad in a black sweater, a maroon scarf effortlessly arranged on his neck as an accoutrement. He also held a brown satchel that placidly rested on his hands. And this young man left one Blaine Anderson speechless. 

His reverie about this boy halted when he heard him sigh. His gaze remained at him as he opened his satchel and brought out the latest issue of Vogue. He took one last glance on the city, then flipped the pages of the magazine.

“What a good way to let time pass,” Blaine commented, another attempt for a conversation.

He nodded but his eyes stayed glued to magazine, leaving Blaine frustrated.

Blaine, stop crushing. It's just his eyes.

But it wasn't just his eyes. It was his grace – the way he moved so pristine and so gracefully like class was showered upon him the moment he was born. The way he gave Blaine that feeling. 

This made Blaine believe that this man right there, a few inches away from him, was worth a cup of coffee. Or two. He wouldn't mind staying up all night with the caffeine seeping through him as long as he was with him.

“I think a cup of coffee with me would suffice your opinions in those pages,” he said to him. “Your wrinkling forehead tells me that you need someone to listen to your fashion musings.”

“I won't refuse,” the young man replied, then flashed his finger. “But a coffee date is forbidden according to this band of commitment.”

The glimmering ring on his hand almost blinded Blaine. Not his eyes, but definitely his heart.

What a good way to miss that beautiful ring, Anderson, he quietly mumbled inside his brain. 

“Of course,” Blaine said to him, nodding. “I understand. Perhaps in another lifetime, I could ask you out without a non-existent husband in the way.”

“The alternate universe agrees with your idea,” he supplied. “But in this particular time and space, your flirtation tactics are just a little too late.”

Blaine looked down, trying to hide his simper.

He's married, just give it up, he reminded himself of the morals he established back when he was still in a relationship. You know the damage cheating brings, especially to the cheater. You won't do that to him, will you?

As the train's wheels screeched for its penultimate stop, the young man hastily packed his magazine inside his satchel and shouldered it. He stood up and almost existed, but then he looked back at Blaine.

“For what it's worth, my name is Kurt…Hummel,” he said, giving him a smile. "I thought you ought to know."

He let his words linger as he glanced longer at Blaine.

“Mr. Hummel, I could walk you home,” Blaine volunteered, sounding like a stalker and a gentleman at the same time. 

Kurt sighed, giving him a sad smile. “In another lifetime,” he said, then walked away.

The train door closed and Blaine sighed, missing his opportunity with the Blue Eyed Boy.

Just then, his phone vibrated. He took it out from his pocket and as he read the message, the big smile on his lips still couldn't depict the happiness reeling inside of him. 

Mr. Hummel would like to remind you that you're one tiny flirt, but he wouldn't mind having a coffee date with you in yours and his abode once you get home. Hes in charge of coffee tonight. As always.