"Who are you Kurt Hummel?" was the first thing out of Blaine's mouth when I returned with his coffee. That's a great question actually. Who is Kurt Hummel?

"I guess that depends on who you ask." I respond cheekily because not even I know the answer to that.

"If you asked my dad, he'd say I was high maintenance and that I have my mother's eyes. If you asked my old high school, they'd say I was the fag who dressed weird and everyone threw slushies at. If you ask my step-brother, he'd say I was cool."

Here I go again with the brutal honesty. His eyes filled with sadness. Or at least that's what it looked like.

"And if I asked you?" Yes, that was sadness in his voice.

"I don't know yet. I'm not sure I can define myself." I sat down beside him at the little table.

There were only a handful of people in the shop now, and they were all engrossed in their own stories.

"And what about you Blaine Anderson? Who is Blaine Anderson?"

I turned the tables on him before I ended up showing all of my skeletons in my closet. I didn't need to scare him away so soon. It would happen…I won't deny that, but there's no reason not to enjoy him while he's still here. He smiled at my question but looked away at something extremely fascinating on the floor. A few moments pass and he looks into my eyes and says,

"The observer."This intrigued me. What did he mean by that? I guess he could sense my confusion.

"I'm always watching things go on around me. I guess you could say I'm an observer of the universe."

"As profound as that sounds, do you only live through others?" Well there I go being a hypocrite; all I do is live through other people. His laugh was worth it though. Would it be cliché to say it was music to my ears?

"Well you have me there. A great deal of my life revolves around others.""Wow, we got really deep for our first actual conversation." I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Alright, alright, we'll lighten it up. How long have you had this place? I assume you're the owner? I've never seen anyone else around here…"

"I started this place about 2 years ago, right out of college. I majored in literature, fell in love with books and decided to open this place up."

I skimmed over like 89% of the important details. Details like my failure to be good enough, my dad's health, and my tendency to live in fairy tales. Something told me he knew I left a lot of my story out. Luckily he chose to ignore it, choosing instead to smile and reply,

"That's impressive. Having such a successful business right after college? That's pretty rare. Although I can see why, it's such a charming place, and in such a great location. You were a literature major and you didn't pursue writing?"

"It's a secret but I actually do write a little on the side. Mainly just for myself."

I never thought of myself as a writer. I was decent at it I suppose. But whenever I pictured myself actually becoming a writer, selling books and putting out new novels…I just end up feeling like I'm a poser.

"Why haven't you looked into selling your work?" God, does he read minds or something?

"Never considered myself a writer, I guess." That was part of my story anyway.

"I'm sure you're wonderful at it. If you ever want someone to read your work, I'd be happy to. I promise I'm not going to run off with your ideas…I suck at writing."

"Thank you, if I decide to, you'll be the first to know. Speaking of sucking at writing…what do you do? You never mentioned it. Surely you don't get paid to observe the universe."

The chances of him getting his hands on my writing were slim, but you never know. He was already getting more out of me than my own family. He probably knows more than they do. That thought made me realize how very little I actually knew about him.

"I'm a psychiatrist. I went to Columbia University, studied mental health, and now I have my own practice."

Well damn. That explains a lot. But it also makes me feel pretty inferior. Psh, what do I do? I have a bookshop. I blew a bunch of money on college to go do something I could have done without it.

"That's impressive." I put emphasis on the that's, implying he was wrong about me owning a bookshop being impressive.

"Nonsense. I love what I do, but this is way cooler."

"We can agree to disagree then. Although, I wouldn't leave my books for anything in the world."

"See! That's what I mean. This is your passion. And your passion is important to you. Your passion is what makes this impressive."

He did make a lot of sense…but it took a lot of heartache to find this passion, so it's still a little bittersweet. His face though when he was saying that…it was so expressive. It would have been a great pep-talk if I wasn't too busy staring at his lips. I bet they taste like his coffee. No…don't think that in front of him or you'll end up with a really embarrassing problem. Whether
he started his freaky mind reading thing or he noticed my drooling and the pause in our conversation, he was smirking at me…in a playful way, but it was just adding to his level of sexy and I couldn't handle it.

"More coffee?" That was the first thing I could think of to distract myself.

"Nah I think I'm good. I have to get going anyway, its past closing time. I didn't mean to keep you so long. Honestly, the time flies so fast when you're having fun, doesn't it?"

Is it really? I looked around and the place was empty. He managed to completely focus my attention on nothing but him. Last time I looked around the room, there were at least 10 people here. Oh well, I hope they weren't trying to buy anything.

"Oh wow, I didn't even realize. It's no problem though, it's not like I live far." I chuckled at my own joke.

"Oh yeah? Where do you live? In a totally non-creepy way of course."

"Upstairs, actually. It's small but it's cozy and I don't have to travel far for work."

"That's awesome! Well at least now I don't feel so bad about staying late." God, there was that wink again. "I'll see you soon, Kurt. Thank you for the coffee."

And in that moment, he turned and was heading out into the snow before I could respond. My dreams that night were strange. Eyes were staring at me everywhere I went, and there was a bright pink glow mixing with a bluish green color. It didn't hit me until morning whose eyes those were following me in my dream.