"Come on, Kurt. According to the map, Strawberry Fields is only three more blocks from here!" Blaine said excitedly.
It was the anniversary of John Lennon's death, and as one of Blaine's personal heroes, since he was now living in New York, he had to put a flower on Strawberry Fields. It was an unseasonably warm December day, and the boys had decided to get off of the subway a few stops early and walk around Central Park for a while.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Kurt said. He gimped along several paces behind Blaine, who had to stop to let him catch up.
"Are you alright? You were just as excited for this as I was this morning," Blaine asked.
"Of course I am! It's these stupid shoes!" Kurt said. He had insisted on wearing a pair of shoes he had bought the day before. They were leather and, of course, not broken in.
Blaine sighed. "Let's take a break," he said.
They sat on a bench and Kurt peeled off his shoe, revealing a huge blister, popped and bleeding. "Gross," Kurt said.
Blaine rummaged through his bag. "Here," he said, handing Kurt a band aid.
Kurt carefully applied it over the blister and stood up.
"Better?" Blaine asked.
"Much. Thank you for being prepared," Kurt said. He kissed his fiancée.
"It's no problem. Just wear comfortable shoes next time," Blaine said.
"Deal," Kurt said.
They walked the next few blocks and came up to a crowd of people, all gathered around Strawberry Fields. It was eerily silent, and they waited at the back of the pack for people to eventually leave. Once they reached the center, Blaine dropped his rose onto the memorial and they stood there for a while, in appreciation and awe of a great man. Kurt's feet still hurt, but he didn't dare complain.