"On it," Santana replied, getting the kettle out and filling it with water before setting it to boil while she went back to the cabinet for tea leaves. Kurt was still a classy bitch, and he'd made it clear from day one that there would be no shitty tea bags in their place. "We may be in a shitty apartment in New York, but goddammit, we're bitches with some damn good tea," she teased as she waited, standing by the stove quietly. "Seriously, though, babe. It's fucking fantastic to see you back in the world of the living. It was touch and go there for a while, and if you died on my watch, Blaine would've given me The Eyes worse than anybody's ever seen. I might've died."

"You probably lost a metric fuckton of weight, babe... In fact, it's pretty damn obvious. You look like a skeleton with skin. Not your hottest look. You can't start off as a vegan if for no other reason than we have to put some meat on your bones first. Well, generally Blaine's meat doesn't make you projectile vomit at every turn, so I'm willing to wager that's not quite the same, snookums." She looked him over critically then, shaking her head at how his PJs were hanging loosely off his too-skinny frame.

She had gotten lost in her thoughts for a moment, and when Kurt spoke, she found herself jerking back to look at him again. "What? Huh? No... No way, no cold feet. Nothing's up... Just thinking about how we're going to get rid of those bags under your eyes." It was a weak attempt at putting up her bitchy facade to get Kurt's attention elsewhere. She knew better than to think that would really work.