A/N: LAURA THIS IS FOR YOUUU!
My friend asked for a Klaine fic, for Valentine's day, so, here I go...
Kurt is kinda bitchy so watch out for that, but other than that, go enjoy it!
"Jeesus Christ!"
"Oh God quit your whining!"
That was most certainly not the first thing Blaine expected to hear, after being spilt with a grande non-fat mocha. Not to mention the stuff was burning his skin, where it touched, and had completely ruined his white v-neck shirt. Blaine had dropped his stuff onto the pavement and was whimpering slightly at the burns. He looked up at the man who now stood with a half-empty cup in his hand, an eyebrow raised and hair perfectly styled.
"What would you do if you had a coffee spilt on your shirt?" Blaine growled and picked up some snow off the ground, to cool his chest off. It hurt, like a bitch. Blaine's curls got all in his face as he was looking at the snow slowly melt, on his red burnt skin. As Blaine glanced at the strange young man in front of him through his hair, he could almost swear the man, was smirking and licking his lips, watching him first-aid his wounds.
"I'd call the whoever it was a fucking ass, and make him buy me a new shirt", the young man said, tapping his foot on the ground, "and now, because you couldn't look before you, I don't have a coffee." Blaine could only gape. This was the most inconsiderate man on the planet, he then concluded.
"So if someone did this to you, you'd act the victim, but also, now that you're the one who's coffee emptied on my, now burnt, skin, you're acting the victim? You make no sense", Blaine scooped another handful of snow, and hoped the burns on his skin weren't serious.
"Yes, that's exactly it, actually. Congratulations, you got it, now I have to get going, I have a class in about", the man checked his watch, "right at this moment, so you've inconvenienced me even further. Thank you for this lovely morning cheer up." The sarcasm was heavy in his voice, as he turned on his heel on left. Blaine stared after the man, and shook his head. What an arrogant bitch.
Good-looking bitch though, he noted, as he gathered his things from the ground. By the looks of the man, he was rich; all of his clothes were designer, from his boots to the handbag he had been holding at the crook of his elbow. And all the clothes looked tailored as well. Not something an everyday person would wear. All in all, he looked like a rich prick, the kind that he usually hated and avoided with all cost, but damn, this stranger had been fine.
Blaine shook his head and rubbed his chest carefully. He was going to be late for class again.
Fuck class though, he thought and took a turn back to his apartment.
He probably couldn't even have concentrated anyways.