mi-kitamura on Tumblr asked: "We assume others show love the same way we do — and if they don't, we worry it's not there." - Unknown

It starts with cookies. Tina's double chocolate chip cookies are buttery, gleaming, dark brown beauties. She presents them to him with such a proud look on her face that Blaine can't not try. They're slightly warm and not too sweet and they have that slightly bitter edge that only good-quality chocolate can provide.

"These are amazing, Tina," Blaine breathes out, eyes closed in bliss. "How'd you know I was hungry?"

"It's going to be a long day," Tina beams. "You need to keep your strength up. I made them this morning, before school."

Blaine eats two or three in front of her and brings the rest home. He can't not, and they're still good after re-heating. They get him through a pile of calculus homework, which is a win. (As it turns out, his mom and dad love the cookies, too.)

He knows how much effort she puts into them, and the look on her face, like the sun breaking through dense grey cloud, is just too sweet not to enjoy.

Two days later, it's oatmeal raisin. And they're still delicious, even though the raisins are a little dried out and they're crispy about the edges. (Cooper, home on a visit, pounces on this batch, because Blaine could only manage one more after he came home.)

The day after, Tina helpfully brings sandwiches and a thermos of soup for lunch. Blaine isn't that fond of beef vegetable, but he dutifully takes a cup of it, and then eats his own lunch after. It goes on for a full week, and Blaine fills up so fast that he gets sleepy in the afternoons, which is not good for making it through Student Council or Glee practice.

He figures it's time for a hard discussion when Tina starts talking about omega-3 pills.

"Blainey, these are so good for you. They help your memory, and you're so busy - "

She's so tentative when she offers all this food to him, but it tumbles out before he can stop it. It's getting out of hand. Sam is starting to make pointed comments about how annoying she is. But more than that: Tina looks more and more worn out and she's starting to forget about her own stuff.

He smiles as warmly as he can. "Tina, thank you, but no, you don't have to all this stuff for me."

"Do what?" But her eyes betray the wound, and tears gather. Blaine feels conscience-stricken, but he presses on, he's got to.

He chooses a comforting tone, and truthful, too, because he knows, more than anyone else does, that Tina needs safety. "I like you first, Tina, then your food. Or your gifts."

"I do this because I care, Blainey. Why don't you bring anything?"

"I don't have to bake or give you gifts just to show you that I care."

"But - I - " and Tina looks down at her hands and spreads out the fingers. And that's the cue: Blaine grasps them firmly in his. "We can do this… right? Because I just want to tell you every day that you're an amazing friend. And - " Blaine raises his eyebrows, deadpan - "You can tell me every day that I'm amazing. That's better than a million dozens of cookies."

Tina lets out a long, long sigh. "I was getting tired." She steps closer to him and puts her head on his chest. "Are you sure I don't have to?"

"You don't. You just need to be you. Besides, you can use the omega-3 pills," Blaine quips.

She laughs and pokes him in the ribs. "As long as you stay you, I'm okay with that."