Kurt peered into the crowded coffee shop through the glass for the hundredth time this year, quickly scanning the comfy chairs and adorable tables with people snugly sat around them. Every week the manager held an open mic night, and every week Kurt wanted to get up on the stage and sing like he was back at McKinley. As an added plus, the mystery guitar-playing man was very cute.
So he decided that tonight; he would walk in, scope out the place and maybe order a coffee for himself before discreetly leaving.
But as soon as he opened the door, a blast of warm coffee-scented air caressed his face, causing him to inhale sharply and receive a few weird looks from those sat nearest the door. The atmosphere felt intoxicating – low, hushed voices mixed in with the relaxing tones of instruments being tuned on stage softly echoed around the charmingly clichéd shop. At the centre of the stage sat Kurt's mystery man setting up his guitar and silently laughing at a comment the blond guy next to him had said, making his shoulders shiver with the suppression and giving Kurt a sly, yet broad smile.
Spinning around before the guitar playing man could realise Kurt was blushing, he ordered a drink as surreptitiously as he was able to without drawing unwanted attention to himself. Sitting at a secluded table close to the stage, Kurt noticed mystery guitar man looking at him and he blushed again (what was wrong with me?), hiding his face behind his drink as he slowly sipped it.
"Heart beats fast, colours and promises, how to be brave, how can I love when I'm afraid to fall" The curly-haired, amber-eyed man's voice resonated lightly through the speakers; blending nicely with the piano playing next to him and the guitar he was strumming, his eyes focused on the smooth neck of it. The audience quietened as a comfortable silence fell like a light spring shower inside the shop, refreshing and relaxing those who listened. Light harmonies came from the blond playing piano and the incorporation of it made Kurt's heart swell and his lips pressed themselves together, eyes slowly closing in his relaxed state.
The beat of the song was mellow and felt somewhat romantic as spotlights from behind Kurt lightly lit up the singer's face. A few people wolf-whistled and some clapped, the singer rearing his head and winking at the audience. The music surrounded Kurt, calming his racing mind and relaxing his aching body, feeling like mystery guitar man's voice was lulling him into a false sense of safety and closure, smooth and deep.
Unsure of how to react, Kurt could feel his heart pummelling against his ribcage, leaping, soaring and begging him to sing along – he knew this song! He remembered hearing glimpses and snippets of it on the radio when Rachel sang/hummed to herself every time she cleaned the flat they shared. It was a top-40, meaning Kurt would dismiss it straight away as it wasn't his kind of music.
'Although if mystery guy sang it...' Kurt thought, 'I wouldn't mind as much'. It was catchy and soon enough he found himself lightly humming along, despite knowing how close he was to the stage.
"I have loved you for a thousand years and I will love you for a thousand more" The singer paused and looked at Kurt, making him feel like those honey eyes could see into his blue-glasz ones, unwrapping him, like a rose that was ready to bloom in a summer haze. Holding his gaze, Kurt sipped his drink and inhaled lightly as their eye contact was broken and mystery guitar man started to sing, looking fixedly down at the guitar that so greatly reflected his eyes, the amber shades melted together and created a hue so beautiful Kurt had to look back at his coffee.
Usually, Kurt would wander home after work; listen to Rachel babble on about her career and how she swore (again and again) she saw Barbra Streisand standing on the sidewalk, which would then somehow drift the conversation onto Finn and how much she missed him. He smiled at the memories of endless nights with her annoying yet homely conversations and quickly decided tonight was going to be different.
Tonight, he was going to tip-toe lightly out of his comfort zone and maybe, just maybe, he would ask the guitar man out for a coffee.
"One step closer, I have died everyday waiting for you, darling don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years, I'll love you for a thousand more" His voice was incredible and Kurt just couldn't compare it to anyone on Broadway, or to any other voice he had heard before.
Their eyes met again and to his surprise, the singer gave him a sly wink as the song ended, much to Kurt's dismay. A ruffle of applause rang throughout the room before it was replaced by the faint, light-hearted chatter one would only hear in such a cosy coffee shop. Hasty quiet voices, mellow and relaxing, filled the room and Kurt listened absent-mindedly.
Sipping his drink again, he took in its deep flavour and sweet taste that clung onto his tongue soon after he had swallowed and he relished every second. Standing from the table, he hitched his bag further onto his shoulder, picking up his drink as he did so, hearing a thought ring clear through his mind, 'Should I go home or should I talk to that guy?' He blinked rapidly a few times, willing the thought away. Kurt began to walk towards the door absent-mindedly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, when he realised he had forgotten his scarf. He could hear a voice inside his head cry out in anguish 'It's a Hermés limited edition!'
As he went to pick up his scarf a tall Latina woman blocked his way and started yelling at him in Spanish.
"¡Fuera de mi camino, Britt y tengo que llegar a la cabina!" Her voice almost knocked Kurt off his feet and he stumbled back into someone.
(Get out of my way, Britt and I need to get to the cab!)
"So then I said-" The bodiless voice behind Kurt bumped into his shoulder and he spun around, awaiting hurls of abuse and a one-sided heated conversation that usually ended in Kurt just walking away, not bothering to even apologise. "—Oh! Sorry! I didn't mean to-"The man looked up from the floor, his feet nervously shuffling to face his bumpee. Surprise and a grin seemed to plaster themselves on the strangers face, making Kurt smile and introduce himself.
"Kurt" his voice sounded more confident than he felt as he flung his hand out to the stranger, waiting patiently for a response.
"Blaine" the stranger (now, Kurt realised, 'Blaine' was no longer a stranger) took Kurt's hand firmly and shook it, laughter falling out of his mouth and engulfing them in his melodic voice.