Kurt followed him to the back room, admiring the rest of the shop as he went. “I just had coffee, but thanks,” he replied. The room felt cozy and inviting, except for the loud music playing in the background. He found himself a seat on one of the black leather couches.
"Okay, that sounds good to me. I can look in one of the books first," Kurt says. He picked up one of the books called Great Book of Tattoo Designs and starts flipping through the pages to find the flower section.
Blaine watched as the boy sat down. He wanted to make sure he felt at ease at the shop, so he went to the kitchen to get himself abottle of water and got one to put on the table in front of Kurt. “If you change your mind there’s coffee over there,” he said and pointed at the table in the corner. “Or you can just help yourself in the kitchen,” he said and turned around himself.
Carefully he tried to gather the sketches on the drawing table, before picking up another book. “There’s another one here,” he said and sat down next to Kurt before starting to flip through the book to find flowers.
"How do you want it? Do you want it to be simple, or something artsy, or what?" He asked and grabbed a pad and two pencils from under the table before turning his attention full to Kurt.
"It’s okay," Kurt sighed, knowing he must have an odd expression on his face. Missing his mom was nothing new and neither was telling people she was gone, but it didn’t make the pain easier.
"No, I don’t have a picture, actually," Kurt said. "Will that be a problem?" he continued, hoping that he wouldn’t be turned down.
Blaine rolled his lips into his mouth, not really sure what to do about himself. He took a step closer and nodded in the direction of the back room. “Want something to drink? We have coffee. Lots of coffee. Or I could get you a soda or something,” he offered and turned to head for the backroom, guessing that the boy - Kurt - was following him. The walls of the room were burgundy, and it was decorated with two black leather couches. A glass coffee table was in the middle, a shelf under it with books and drawings of inspiration for tattoos. In the corner was a table with plastic cups and a pot of coffee. By the other corner was a drawing table, papers all over, and half finished sketches covering the surface. Pencils and sharpies were spread around, and against the wall was Blaine’s guitar.
"Sit wherever you want," he offered and gestured at the couches. He went over to turn down the volume of the a little on the loud side, Alice Cooper booming from the speakers. "Well, I have a few books you can look through to find what you want, but we could also just google it, and I can do a sketch when we know what you want," he suggested.
"Oh, I know," Kurt said, hesitantly. The man across the counter was a little intimidating. With his tattoos and piercings, Kurt was a little uncertain of whether he should continue speaking or run. "My mother died last year," he finished.
Kurt noticed the way that the man’s eye’s raked his body and he blushed. “I’m Kurt, by the way,” he said.
A little smirk crept over Blaine’s lips, but when the boy mentioned that his mother had died he stood straight, feeling a little tug in his gut. He ran his fingers through is untidy curls and looked awkwardly away for a moment. Then he looked to the boy with pain painted all over his face. “Oh man. That sucks. I’m sorry,” he said sincerely and walked around the counter, standing a little away.
"Kurt," he repeated with a little nod. "I’m Blaine," he shrugged. "So uhm - do you have a picture or a drawing or something with of the flower you want?" He asked and shifted on his feet.
Kurt was getting tired of the hustle and bustle that was NYADA these days. Aside from the constant exams and rehearsals, he was barely getting by. Kurt was thankful to his dad for pushing him to succeed and follow his dreams, but he needed a break.
He woke up that morning in a funk. His usual grande nonfat mocha from his favorite coffee shop just wasn’t doing it. The mid-October breeze tousled his hair as Kurt walked down the street aimlessly with his coffee. He didn’t want to go back to his apartment to study and he didn’t want to go out with his, admittedly few, friends.
Getting a tattoo on a whim had never been in Kurt’s plans, but neither was losing his mother. He lost his mother when she was forty five years old to cancer and it had been he and his father ever since. His father was the one who encouraged him to come to NYADA and follow his dreams.
"No, I’m not lost," Kurt laughed, looking around the shop wearily. "My mother," He says, "I want a lily in honor of my mother."
To Blaine, the guy really looked like he wasn’t even in the right neighborhood. Everything from his hair, to his high end clothes seemed way off, and for some reason Blaine felt a need to make sure, even though the kid assured him he wasn’t lost.
He was just about to ask, when the kid spoke again. “Uhm, I know mom-tattoos are really in and all, but are you sure? I mean, it’s not really something you can regret and get rid off,” Blaine said, both palms on the counter as he leaned against it.
Not very discreetly, he let his eyes travel from the top of the kid to his toes and back up. He would swear that the body underneath those layers probably didn’t even have a scar.
When Blaine woke up in the morning it was gray. Very gray. He could hear the rain and wind whip against his window, and he really didn’t feel like getting up. That was one of the great things about his work, though; he very rarely had to meet in so early that it seemed unholy, so he always had a little time to wake up properly before having to go to the shop.
It was his colleague who opened the shop this day. Blaine had been working late with a client who had to have a big motive up his leg, so Blaine had been in the store until late evening, bent over the guy’s leg while doping himself on coffee, and a little too loud music. Nights like that could really take a toll on his shoulder, and he was only happy that the rest of the details wouldn’t have to be put in until in a few weeks.
Over the course of the day he had been playing a little more guitar than he had actually been doing work. Not a lot of people had needed to get work done, which was pretty common for Tuesdays, since it was one of the days where the piercer was in, so most clients were there to get jewelry.
It had come to a point where Blaine was drinking coffee while pacing the floors around the shop, singing songs. He had been cleaning up the drawers, and made sure everything was in stock, and ordered new needles, so he was seriously out of stuff to do when the bell sounded, and a guy who looked like he had stepped in the wrong door entered the shop.
"Hey. Are you lost?" Blaine asked and put his mug down on a shelf before heading for the counter to help the poor guy find out wherever it was he was looking for.