“And this is my station, aka where the magic happens.”
Kurt rolls his eyes and erases a few lines of the sketch he’s been working on; a bit of a twist on the classic heart.
“Here’s where you’ll be, make yourself at home. Oh, and that’s Kurt. He’s prickly as hell but unfortunately he’s also crazy talented so we deal.”
Kurt’s pencil scratches over the thin paper, adding shadow and detail, not even looking up to say, “Don’t you have a tribal armband or butterfly tramp stamp to work on, Puckerman?”
Puck scoffs but walks away, and Kurt catches a gesture in his direction seeming to indicate a see what I mean? message to whoever is still standing rather annoyingly just at the edge of Kurt’s vision.
“Hello,” Kurt says with a bit of a put-upon sigh. He’d really been hoping to finish up and head home for the night before someone inevitably came in just as they tried to close wanting a complicated back piece or taking an hour to decide on a flash design.
“Hey, I’m Blaine.”