FIC: Innocence Returned (Glee)
Title: Innocence Returned
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,826
Characters: Finn/Rachel
A/N: This one was written for the story_lottery challenge, utilizing the prompt "Igloo". Rather than having our two favorite characters head off to Siberia, I chose to write this instead. ;-)
Summary: One snowy Friday afternoon, Rachel helps Finn remember what's most important.
A multitude of clouds wafted across the slate grey sky, highlighting the pure white snow which fluttered from the heavens onto the charming suburban landscape winding through the small town of Lima, Ohio. Tightening her arms around her slender frame, Rachel Berry hung her head against the chill wind as she trudged through the quiet, snowy streets of her familiar town. She had lived here all her life; she had made similar journeys many times. But none of those walks had been quite like this one. None of those walks had led her to where she was going now: directly to Finn Hudson’s front door.
She knew that she shouldn’t be quite so nervous. After all, she had been friends with Finn for almost five months now. And it wasn’t like she didn’t know exactly what she was going to say. She had practiced her speech in her mirror many times before leaving her house. If she were acting the role in a play, she was certain she would have received riotous, befitting applause.
The problem was, she wasn’t acting the role in a play. She wasn’t even acting at all. Everything she planned to say was going to come from her heart. A heart that had belonged to Finn Hudson almost since the first day she’d met him. Even if maybe he had never offered his own in return.
Sighing heavily, Rachel stopped in front of Finn’s front door, her pink-mittened fist pausing in midair. This was it. She was going to knock on this seemingly innocent slab of wood, and Finn was going to come to his door. She knew he was at home. He hadn’t been to school for over a week, and he’d missed Glee practice for just as long. Even though today had been declared a snow day, there was no reason for him to leave the house. Not when he’d pretty much made himself a prisoner inside his own room.
Come on, Rachel, she encouraged herself, even as she anxiously folded her lips. You can do this. Finn needs you right now. Be the amazing friend you know you are, and knock on his door.
Taking a deep, thorough breath, she stood up straight and finally brought her fist crashing down upon his door. Once. Twice. Three times, her mittened hand knocked a muffled rhythm against the wooden obstacle blocking her from Finn’s path.
And then she waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Her forehead began to crease in concern. She knew that Finn was at home, and she couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t answer the door. Okay, she could understand it. He had completely cut himself off from normal, everyday life. As unique as she was, she supposed that meant that he had completely cut himself off from her, too.
But that was no way to live. Finn was a wonderful guy, and he deserved better than this. He deserved better than never leaving the house, and effectively closing himself off from everyone who cared. He deserved better than everything life had given him. Well, that was it. Finn had forgotten what it was like to live, and Rachel Berry certainly couldn’t condone that. She was going to get him out of his house, and she was going to get him out of his house right now.
“Finn!” Rachel called, knocking twice more. “Finn, come outside. You can’t stay shut up in there forever, you know. This is no way to live.” She knocked three more times, each knock progressively louder than the last. “Finn, please! It’s me, Rachel.” Her mouth began to pucker downward into a frustrated frown when the door still remained closed, and she raised her fist to knock once more. It went sailing through the chilly air, much faster and much harder than before. But just before it made contact, just before it collided with the heavy wood, the door swung open and she found herself pounding her fist against Finn’s chest instead.
“Okay, okay!” Finn cried, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll open the door. Just please stop hitting me, alright?” Rachel glanced up in surprise, her widened brown eyes taking in his rather disheveled appearance. His chin had grown slightly scruffy with reddish brown whiskers, his hair was mussed and unkempt, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Finn,” she said blankly, taking an inadvertent step toward the quarterback. “You came out.”
“Well, yeah,” Finn replied, arching a quizzical brow. “I thought you were going to beat down my front door. Those things can be really expensive, you know.”
A rosy blush crept up Rachel’s cheeks, and she dropped her gaze to her pink snowshoe clad feet. “Sorry,” she mumbled, before forcing herself to glance back up into his annoyed cinnamon eyes. “I was just worried about you. You haven’t been to school in a really long time.”
Finn shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well,” he said, suddenly unable to meet Rachel’s gaze, “I haven’t been feeling very well.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” Rachel prodded gently, her smile turning sympathetic.
Exhaling slowly, Finn’s breath emerged white and puffy in the cool morning air. “Of course,” he said, leaning heavily against his doorframe. “Why else would I have missed so much school?”
“I don’t know,” Rachel replied softly, taking another step in his direction. “I mean, a lot has happened recently, Finn. Nobody would blame you for being upset. It’s perfectly natural to feel a sense of loss and betrayal after hearing such troubling news.”
Unfortunately, it appeared that this was exactly the wrong thing to say. Finn tensed perceptibly, his fingers curling into tight fists by his sides. “I’m not upset,” he snapped, and then seemed to think better of it. “I mean,” he said, a guilty flush coloring his face, “I’m not upset. I just needed a break, that’s all.”
“I understand,” Rachel nodded, the sympathy in her smile increasing. “It was quite an ordeal. It’s just,” she continued, placing a tentative hand onto his arm, “I . . . We missed you. The Club. It’s . . . not the same without you there.”
An expression of mild wonderment entered Finn’s eyes as he glanced at Rachel’s hand as it rested upon his arm. But then he shook his head, his features hardening once more. “They sure have a funny way of showing it,” he muttered, pursing his lips. “Look, Rachel,” he said, “I just needed a break, okay? I’m not ready to come back yet.” He paused for a moment, kicking at a tuft of snow which had formed upon his front stoop. When he next spoke, his words were barely discernible above the rushing wind. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to be ready to come back.”
Rachel’s chest twisted painfully, and she wrapped her fingers around his concealed bicep. “They know what they did was wrong, you know,” she said, gazing gently up at him. “I think they might be a little afraid to apologize.”
“To be honest,” Finn replied bitterly, even as the corners of his lips flitted upward as he studied her hand, “I really don’t care. They lied to me, Rachel. They kept this really huge, life changing thing from me. I can’t just forgive that.”
Rachel swallowed apprehensively as an anxious gleam entered her chocolate brown gaze. “Can you forgive me?” she asked softly, dropping her hand back to her side.
Finn frowned at the loss of contact. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he muttered, then sighed as he allowed himself to look back into her eyes. Rachel’s breath caught in her throat at the tenderness she saw reflected there. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Rachel. You just told me the truth.”
“Okay,” Rachel smiled, visibly relaxing. “That’s good.”
“Good,” Finn said, nodding. He straightened up, grabbing hold of the edge of the door. “So I’m gonna go back inside -“
“Finn, wait!” Rachel cried desperately as he began to shut the door.
Finn blinked in surprise, pausing just before the door clicked shut. “What?” he questioned, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“Please don’t go back inside,” she replied, gazing at him through pleading eyes. “You have to come outside sometime, you know.”
“I know,” Finn said seriously, running his fingers through his thick russet hair. “I’m just not ready yet. Not now, Rachel. I’m sorry.” And then he began to close the door again.
“Finn Hudson,” Rachel stated, sticking her foot into the crevice between door and frame, “If you shut that door, I will . . .” She wracked her mind for a suitable threat, her gaze flickering around his front porch. “I’ll hit you with a snowball,” she finally said, her eyes flashing defiantly.
“What?” Finn questioned blankly, staring at Rachel as though she’d grown a third head.
“I mean it, Finn,” she said heatedly, crossing her arms over her chest. “A really big snowball.” A snowball? Had she really fallen this low? She was actually threatening to bombard Finn Hudson with snowballs? She almost took it back. She almost allowed him to close his door after all. But then she glanced back up into his tired, bloodshot eyes, and she studied his disheveled, exhausted appearance, and she knew that she would do whatever it took to get him outside. She would do anything to help him.
“Please, Finn?” she plead, her expression imploring. “It’s a snow day. We could play for a little while, if you want.” The idea was almost foreign to Rachel, but she made it anyway. She hadn’t played in the snow since she was about five years old, but somehow the idea seemed exactly right. “We could be kids again,” she finished, smiling encouragingly.
The suggestion appeared to transform Finn. Where before he had been hesitant and standoffish, he suddenly became interested and open. If Rachel didn’t know better, she could have sworn he even seemed a little excited. “I used to build igloos when I was a kid,” he confessed almost shyly, digging his hands into his pockets. “On snow days, Puck and I would stay outside all day making them.”
An igloo? Rachel thought with slight dismay. He wants to build an igloo? She almost decided to suggest something different. She almost opened her mouth to tell him that she’d just been kidding. But then his excitement grew, a reluctant grin spread across his face, and Rachel’s pulse began to race. “Sure,” she replied, her tone emerging a little too perky. Clearing her throat, her expression became slightly more genuine. “That sounds perfect.”
“Just let me get changed,” Finn replied, leaving the door open as he stepped into the house. And when he emerged a moment later, flecks of snow having fluttered into the entryway, he was completely bedecked in snow gear. His feet were clad in black snowshoes, his muscular frame was adorned with a heavy blue jacket, and his hair was concealed by a blue knit cap. “Let’s go,” he said, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.
The work was a little tedious at first. Rachel had never so much as thought about building an igloo before, and she was pretty certain that she hindered more than helped the process. At one point, she even caused a wall of snow to come tumbling down upon a laughing Finn. (It was so good to hear that laugh!) But as the igloo began to come together, and Finn continued to play in the snow, her heart started to melt. She had never seen him so free; she had never seen him so open. Somehow, in the space of a snowy Friday afternoon, Finn Hudson began to remember what it was like to be happy. And when they had finally huddled together under a blanket of snow, completely shut off from the world and yet a part of it all at once, Finn’s grin became permanent.
“This is good,” he said, uncapping a thermos of hot chocolate and pouring Rachel a cup. “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”
“I’m glad,” Rachel replied, her fingers brushing against his own as she accepted the drink. Taking a slow sip, she studied the boy sitting by her side. She had never seen him looking quite so handsome. “I’ve never built an igloo before,” she admitted, blushing slightly.
“I kinda figured,” Finn smirked, sipping from his own glass. And then he turned to face her, his features turning more serious. “Listen, Rachel,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I just wanted to thank you. It was really cool what you did, you know.”
“What do you mean?” she questioned, licking her lips nervously. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized just how close they were sitting.
“I mean that not many people would have done this,” he clarified, gazing deeply into her eyes as he placed his cup onto the snowy ground. “I know playing in the snow can’t exactly be your idea of fun, but you did it anyway. So . . . thank you, I guess.”
“You’re welcome, Finn,” she replied quietly. “I would do anything for you.”
Rachel hadn’t realized she’d actually spoken her previous statement until Finn sucked in a sharp breath. And when he started moving ever nearer, her eyes widened in alarm. “Finn,” she protested feebly. “We -“ But she was cut off in mid-sentence by the sensation of Finn pressing his warm mouth to her parted lips. Freezing in apprehension, Rachel could only watch him.
When he realized that she wasn’t returning the kiss, Finn quickly backed away. “I’m - I’m sorry,” he said, his cheeks burning from embarrassment.
“Don’t be,” Rachel replied quickly, reaching out for his hand. “I just don’t understand why you did that. I didn’t think you were interested in me.” She knew this last was a little untrue, but she couldn’t help but say it. For months, she had thrown herself at this handsome, popular boy, only to be rebuked time and again. Could she really bring herself to believe that he cared about her now? The idea was a little scary in a self-preservation type way.
“That’s my fault,” Finn said quietly, closing his gloved fingers around Rachel’s hand. “I was just confused before, you know? I didn’t know what I wanted. And,” he said, grimacing slightly, “I know I hurt you, Rachel. I was a really big jerk to you.”
“It’s okay,” Rachel interrupted, relishing the feel of his hand in her own. Even though the memories still hurt, she couldn’t stand the sound of his dejected voice.
“No, it’s not,” Finn returned, shaking his head. “I should have treated you better. You’re special, Rach,” he stated, smiling affectionately at the small girl. “You’re . . . I’ve never met anyone like you, ya know? And I’m sorry that I was a grade A slushie head.”
Rachel snorted, sending her hair fluttering about her shoulders. “I won’t deny that it hurt my feelings, Finn,” she said, attempting to squeeze his hand even through the thick fabric of her mittens. “But I know that you were completely confounded and a little beguiled. I can forgive you for that.”
“I’m . . . not quite sure what you just said,” Finn admitted, frowning as he reflected upon Rachel’s rather large vocabulary.
Rachel’s expression softened. Placing her own cup onto the ground, she lifted Finn’s chin with her index finger, tilting his head toward her. “I mean that you hurt my feelings,” she elaborated, swallowing gently. “But that I forgive you. Just don’t do it again, okay?” she rushed to add, her stomach knotting as she considered the ramifications of her words.
“I promise,” Finn replied, raising his hand to stroke her cheek with his thumb. “You deserve so much better than that, Rach. You deserve so much more.”
“Thank you,” Rachel whispered. She couldn’t believe the way he was looking at her. She couldn’t believe the look that had entered his eyes. In all her life, she had never seen any boy look at her this way. Somehow, it was exactly what she needed.
Moving her hand to the back of his head, she gazed into his eyes as she gradually brought his lips down to meet her own. Almost immediately, an odd sense of electricity seemed to course through her veins, and she moaned softly into his mouth. Threading her fingers through his hair, she began to gently kiss him, savoring the way he held her in his arms, the way his body felt against hers, and the way he kissed her back.
The snow continued to swirl around them, and the wind continued to blow, but Rachel Berry realized that she had never felt so safe. She had never felt so protected. Huddled inside the igloo with the boy who held her heart, she slowly put everything behind her just as he slowly put his own past behind him. Even though neither knew what the future held, the fact remained that they would face it together. And for now, that was enough.
Fin.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,826
Characters: Finn/Rachel
A/N: This one was written for the story_lottery challenge, utilizing the prompt "Igloo". Rather than having our two favorite characters head off to Siberia, I chose to write this instead. ;-)
Summary: One snowy Friday afternoon, Rachel helps Finn remember what's most important.
A multitude of clouds wafted across the slate grey sky, highlighting the pure white snow which fluttered from the heavens onto the charming suburban landscape winding through the small town of Lima, Ohio. Tightening her arms around her slender frame, Rachel Berry hung her head against the chill wind as she trudged through the quiet, snowy streets of her familiar town. She had lived here all her life; she had made similar journeys many times. But none of those walks had been quite like this one. None of those walks had led her to where she was going now: directly to Finn Hudson’s front door.
She knew that she shouldn’t be quite so nervous. After all, she had been friends with Finn for almost five months now. And it wasn’t like she didn’t know exactly what she was going to say. She had practiced her speech in her mirror many times before leaving her house. If she were acting the role in a play, she was certain she would have received riotous, befitting applause.
The problem was, she wasn’t acting the role in a play. She wasn’t even acting at all. Everything she planned to say was going to come from her heart. A heart that had belonged to Finn Hudson almost since the first day she’d met him. Even if maybe he had never offered his own in return.
Sighing heavily, Rachel stopped in front of Finn’s front door, her pink-mittened fist pausing in midair. This was it. She was going to knock on this seemingly innocent slab of wood, and Finn was going to come to his door. She knew he was at home. He hadn’t been to school for over a week, and he’d missed Glee practice for just as long. Even though today had been declared a snow day, there was no reason for him to leave the house. Not when he’d pretty much made himself a prisoner inside his own room.
Come on, Rachel, she encouraged herself, even as she anxiously folded her lips. You can do this. Finn needs you right now. Be the amazing friend you know you are, and knock on his door.
Taking a deep, thorough breath, she stood up straight and finally brought her fist crashing down upon his door. Once. Twice. Three times, her mittened hand knocked a muffled rhythm against the wooden obstacle blocking her from Finn’s path.
And then she waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Her forehead began to crease in concern. She knew that Finn was at home, and she couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t answer the door. Okay, she could understand it. He had completely cut himself off from normal, everyday life. As unique as she was, she supposed that meant that he had completely cut himself off from her, too.
But that was no way to live. Finn was a wonderful guy, and he deserved better than this. He deserved better than never leaving the house, and effectively closing himself off from everyone who cared. He deserved better than everything life had given him. Well, that was it. Finn had forgotten what it was like to live, and Rachel Berry certainly couldn’t condone that. She was going to get him out of his house, and she was going to get him out of his house right now.
“Finn!” Rachel called, knocking twice more. “Finn, come outside. You can’t stay shut up in there forever, you know. This is no way to live.” She knocked three more times, each knock progressively louder than the last. “Finn, please! It’s me, Rachel.” Her mouth began to pucker downward into a frustrated frown when the door still remained closed, and she raised her fist to knock once more. It went sailing through the chilly air, much faster and much harder than before. But just before it made contact, just before it collided with the heavy wood, the door swung open and she found herself pounding her fist against Finn’s chest instead.
“Okay, okay!” Finn cried, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll open the door. Just please stop hitting me, alright?” Rachel glanced up in surprise, her widened brown eyes taking in his rather disheveled appearance. His chin had grown slightly scruffy with reddish brown whiskers, his hair was mussed and unkempt, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Finn,” she said blankly, taking an inadvertent step toward the quarterback. “You came out.”
“Well, yeah,” Finn replied, arching a quizzical brow. “I thought you were going to beat down my front door. Those things can be really expensive, you know.”
A rosy blush crept up Rachel’s cheeks, and she dropped her gaze to her pink snowshoe clad feet. “Sorry,” she mumbled, before forcing herself to glance back up into his annoyed cinnamon eyes. “I was just worried about you. You haven’t been to school in a really long time.”
Finn shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well,” he said, suddenly unable to meet Rachel’s gaze, “I haven’t been feeling very well.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” Rachel prodded gently, her smile turning sympathetic.
Exhaling slowly, Finn’s breath emerged white and puffy in the cool morning air. “Of course,” he said, leaning heavily against his doorframe. “Why else would I have missed so much school?”
“I don’t know,” Rachel replied softly, taking another step in his direction. “I mean, a lot has happened recently, Finn. Nobody would blame you for being upset. It’s perfectly natural to feel a sense of loss and betrayal after hearing such troubling news.”
Unfortunately, it appeared that this was exactly the wrong thing to say. Finn tensed perceptibly, his fingers curling into tight fists by his sides. “I’m not upset,” he snapped, and then seemed to think better of it. “I mean,” he said, a guilty flush coloring his face, “I’m not upset. I just needed a break, that’s all.”
“I understand,” Rachel nodded, the sympathy in her smile increasing. “It was quite an ordeal. It’s just,” she continued, placing a tentative hand onto his arm, “I . . . We missed you. The Club. It’s . . . not the same without you there.”
An expression of mild wonderment entered Finn’s eyes as he glanced at Rachel’s hand as it rested upon his arm. But then he shook his head, his features hardening once more. “They sure have a funny way of showing it,” he muttered, pursing his lips. “Look, Rachel,” he said, “I just needed a break, okay? I’m not ready to come back yet.” He paused for a moment, kicking at a tuft of snow which had formed upon his front stoop. When he next spoke, his words were barely discernible above the rushing wind. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to be ready to come back.”
Rachel’s chest twisted painfully, and she wrapped her fingers around his concealed bicep. “They know what they did was wrong, you know,” she said, gazing gently up at him. “I think they might be a little afraid to apologize.”
“To be honest,” Finn replied bitterly, even as the corners of his lips flitted upward as he studied her hand, “I really don’t care. They lied to me, Rachel. They kept this really huge, life changing thing from me. I can’t just forgive that.”
Rachel swallowed apprehensively as an anxious gleam entered her chocolate brown gaze. “Can you forgive me?” she asked softly, dropping her hand back to her side.
Finn frowned at the loss of contact. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he muttered, then sighed as he allowed himself to look back into her eyes. Rachel’s breath caught in her throat at the tenderness she saw reflected there. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Rachel. You just told me the truth.”
“Okay,” Rachel smiled, visibly relaxing. “That’s good.”
“Good,” Finn said, nodding. He straightened up, grabbing hold of the edge of the door. “So I’m gonna go back inside -“
“Finn, wait!” Rachel cried desperately as he began to shut the door.
Finn blinked in surprise, pausing just before the door clicked shut. “What?” he questioned, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“Please don’t go back inside,” she replied, gazing at him through pleading eyes. “You have to come outside sometime, you know.”
“I know,” Finn said seriously, running his fingers through his thick russet hair. “I’m just not ready yet. Not now, Rachel. I’m sorry.” And then he began to close the door again.
“Finn Hudson,” Rachel stated, sticking her foot into the crevice between door and frame, “If you shut that door, I will . . .” She wracked her mind for a suitable threat, her gaze flickering around his front porch. “I’ll hit you with a snowball,” she finally said, her eyes flashing defiantly.
“What?” Finn questioned blankly, staring at Rachel as though she’d grown a third head.
“I mean it, Finn,” she said heatedly, crossing her arms over her chest. “A really big snowball.” A snowball? Had she really fallen this low? She was actually threatening to bombard Finn Hudson with snowballs? She almost took it back. She almost allowed him to close his door after all. But then she glanced back up into his tired, bloodshot eyes, and she studied his disheveled, exhausted appearance, and she knew that she would do whatever it took to get him outside. She would do anything to help him.
“Please, Finn?” she plead, her expression imploring. “It’s a snow day. We could play for a little while, if you want.” The idea was almost foreign to Rachel, but she made it anyway. She hadn’t played in the snow since she was about five years old, but somehow the idea seemed exactly right. “We could be kids again,” she finished, smiling encouragingly.
The suggestion appeared to transform Finn. Where before he had been hesitant and standoffish, he suddenly became interested and open. If Rachel didn’t know better, she could have sworn he even seemed a little excited. “I used to build igloos when I was a kid,” he confessed almost shyly, digging his hands into his pockets. “On snow days, Puck and I would stay outside all day making them.”
An igloo? Rachel thought with slight dismay. He wants to build an igloo? She almost decided to suggest something different. She almost opened her mouth to tell him that she’d just been kidding. But then his excitement grew, a reluctant grin spread across his face, and Rachel’s pulse began to race. “Sure,” she replied, her tone emerging a little too perky. Clearing her throat, her expression became slightly more genuine. “That sounds perfect.”
“Just let me get changed,” Finn replied, leaving the door open as he stepped into the house. And when he emerged a moment later, flecks of snow having fluttered into the entryway, he was completely bedecked in snow gear. His feet were clad in black snowshoes, his muscular frame was adorned with a heavy blue jacket, and his hair was concealed by a blue knit cap. “Let’s go,” he said, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.
The work was a little tedious at first. Rachel had never so much as thought about building an igloo before, and she was pretty certain that she hindered more than helped the process. At one point, she even caused a wall of snow to come tumbling down upon a laughing Finn. (It was so good to hear that laugh!) But as the igloo began to come together, and Finn continued to play in the snow, her heart started to melt. She had never seen him so free; she had never seen him so open. Somehow, in the space of a snowy Friday afternoon, Finn Hudson began to remember what it was like to be happy. And when they had finally huddled together under a blanket of snow, completely shut off from the world and yet a part of it all at once, Finn’s grin became permanent.
“This is good,” he said, uncapping a thermos of hot chocolate and pouring Rachel a cup. “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”
“I’m glad,” Rachel replied, her fingers brushing against his own as she accepted the drink. Taking a slow sip, she studied the boy sitting by her side. She had never seen him looking quite so handsome. “I’ve never built an igloo before,” she admitted, blushing slightly.
“I kinda figured,” Finn smirked, sipping from his own glass. And then he turned to face her, his features turning more serious. “Listen, Rachel,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I just wanted to thank you. It was really cool what you did, you know.”
“What do you mean?” she questioned, licking her lips nervously. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized just how close they were sitting.
“I mean that not many people would have done this,” he clarified, gazing deeply into her eyes as he placed his cup onto the snowy ground. “I know playing in the snow can’t exactly be your idea of fun, but you did it anyway. So . . . thank you, I guess.”
“You’re welcome, Finn,” she replied quietly. “I would do anything for you.”
Rachel hadn’t realized she’d actually spoken her previous statement until Finn sucked in a sharp breath. And when he started moving ever nearer, her eyes widened in alarm. “Finn,” she protested feebly. “We -“ But she was cut off in mid-sentence by the sensation of Finn pressing his warm mouth to her parted lips. Freezing in apprehension, Rachel could only watch him.
When he realized that she wasn’t returning the kiss, Finn quickly backed away. “I’m - I’m sorry,” he said, his cheeks burning from embarrassment.
“Don’t be,” Rachel replied quickly, reaching out for his hand. “I just don’t understand why you did that. I didn’t think you were interested in me.” She knew this last was a little untrue, but she couldn’t help but say it. For months, she had thrown herself at this handsome, popular boy, only to be rebuked time and again. Could she really bring herself to believe that he cared about her now? The idea was a little scary in a self-preservation type way.
“That’s my fault,” Finn said quietly, closing his gloved fingers around Rachel’s hand. “I was just confused before, you know? I didn’t know what I wanted. And,” he said, grimacing slightly, “I know I hurt you, Rachel. I was a really big jerk to you.”
“It’s okay,” Rachel interrupted, relishing the feel of his hand in her own. Even though the memories still hurt, she couldn’t stand the sound of his dejected voice.
“No, it’s not,” Finn returned, shaking his head. “I should have treated you better. You’re special, Rach,” he stated, smiling affectionately at the small girl. “You’re . . . I’ve never met anyone like you, ya know? And I’m sorry that I was a grade A slushie head.”
Rachel snorted, sending her hair fluttering about her shoulders. “I won’t deny that it hurt my feelings, Finn,” she said, attempting to squeeze his hand even through the thick fabric of her mittens. “But I know that you were completely confounded and a little beguiled. I can forgive you for that.”
“I’m . . . not quite sure what you just said,” Finn admitted, frowning as he reflected upon Rachel’s rather large vocabulary.
Rachel’s expression softened. Placing her own cup onto the ground, she lifted Finn’s chin with her index finger, tilting his head toward her. “I mean that you hurt my feelings,” she elaborated, swallowing gently. “But that I forgive you. Just don’t do it again, okay?” she rushed to add, her stomach knotting as she considered the ramifications of her words.
“I promise,” Finn replied, raising his hand to stroke her cheek with his thumb. “You deserve so much better than that, Rach. You deserve so much more.”
“Thank you,” Rachel whispered. She couldn’t believe the way he was looking at her. She couldn’t believe the look that had entered his eyes. In all her life, she had never seen any boy look at her this way. Somehow, it was exactly what she needed.
Moving her hand to the back of his head, she gazed into his eyes as she gradually brought his lips down to meet her own. Almost immediately, an odd sense of electricity seemed to course through her veins, and she moaned softly into his mouth. Threading her fingers through his hair, she began to gently kiss him, savoring the way he held her in his arms, the way his body felt against hers, and the way he kissed her back.
The snow continued to swirl around them, and the wind continued to blow, but Rachel Berry realized that she had never felt so safe. She had never felt so protected. Huddled inside the igloo with the boy who held her heart, she slowly put everything behind her just as he slowly put his own past behind him. Even though neither knew what the future held, the fact remained that they would face it together. And for now, that was enough.
Fin.