It looked like a scene out of an apocalypse movie: the streets of New York City were deserted. Heavy rain poured down and violent wind rattled the windows of the tiny loft. Rachel and Santana were able to get back to Lima for the weekend and escape the storm, but Kurt and Blaine were unfortunately stuck in its path. The power had gone out hours ago, and all they could do was sit by candlelight and listen to the tiny radio that Kurt found at the drugstore a few days ago.
"It's not just rain that's coming with this storm. Fast winds and even weather as intense as hail could hit Manhattan tonight," the weather man said.
Blaine groaned. "They've been saying the same things for the last three days. I'm sick of it," he said.
"Blaine, relax, it's not our faults that we couldn't get plane tickets out of the city. There are over 18 million people here. Some of them just had the idea to leave before us," Kurt said. He stood behind Blaine and rubbed his shoulders. "It's just a bad spring rain storm. We're safe," Kurt said.
"I guess you're right. This building is like a fortress anyways," Blaine said.
"Yeah, it is. Now, let's see if we can figure out something for dinner," Kurt said. After scouring the cupboards, they decided to just eat cereal from the box and a bag of chips from Santana's stash.
In the middle of their dinner, a hail stone hit their window, making both of them jump a foot in the air. Kurt cautiously went over to examine the window. "It's fine. Not even a scratch," Kurt said.
Blaine laughed. "Good. Now I'm sure we're safe," he said. They spent the rest of their evening laying in a pile of blankets in the middle of the floor, away from the windows, just in case.