christian.

Christian couldn’t help the small rise of color in his cheeks when Blaine said this, cracking a small smile as he looked away bashfully. He then sighed and lowered his arms so he was looking at the mirror once more. He supposed he did look… rather pleasant on the eyes. The red of the vest mixed with the simple black and white of the rest of his ensemble stood out quite nicely. It had a bit of a poetic touch, he had to admit.

He stood slowly, looking around for his hat and placing it precariously on his head, pursing his lips as a determined little frown creased his brows.

“Well, I did promise you all I would help. I don’t go back on my promises.” Christian turned to look at Blaine and the rest of the Bohemians, smiling wide now as an air of confidence made him stand a little straighter. “Let’s go, shall we?”

“You are a good person.  Thank you.  For everything.”  Reaching his hand up to palm over his smile, Blaine watched the boost of confidence blanket itself over Christian’s nerves and silently praised whoever was listening that their only hope felt better about the situation.  Not that there wasn’t a backup plan already in the works.  

“Ah?  Not quite yet..  First they are going to want to–.”  If he knew his friends, at any second there would be someone shouting–!!  And (like clockwork!) there it was.  Toulouse-Lautrec’s unmistakable voice shouting, ‘Absinthe!’ Followed by cacophony of cheers that nearly drowned out the last syllable.  The bohemians never left home without drowning themselves in it.

Blaine only drank every now and then (tonight he figured one of them might need to keep a clearer head–maybe just a tiny bit) but his friends?  They wasted no time gathering Christian up and introducing him to their precious muse in all her glory before they set out bound, determined, and filled to the brim with the hope of a bunch of starry-eyed, liquored up dreamers.