arthur.

The blond stared down at his cup, and was tempted to just toss it. Probably head home, and make his own– it’d be better quality. But then he’d be late, and that’s just a headache he doesn’t want to deal with. He glanced over at the stand the other indicated, and scoffed a little. “It’s a wonder they’re still in business, but I suppose if you’re desperate for your caffeine fix, almost anything will do.” There’s a pause, and a slight quirk to his lips. “It almost sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“It’s New York City so I think they have a never ending chain of unsuspecting victims lining up daily not knowing that they’re about to have the worst cup of coffee and grinds they’ve ever had,” Blaine’s nose scrunched and his entire back squirmed in a shudder that wiggled up his spine.  “You’re right.  When you really need the caffeine?  I guess it doesn’t matter where you’re getting it from as long as you’re getting it.”  Laughing softly–he shoved his bottom lip against his upper in a ‘what do you do’ lopsided smirk.  “Unfortunately?  I am,” a sympathetic, pitiful look over the crowd waiting for their orders stopped when it reached Arthur.  “Sorry for rambling,” he smiled sheepishly, “I’m Blaine.”