well, i love finn and rachel.
It was hard to focus as Mr. Schuester drabbled on and on about imperfects. Although Spanish was not one of my fortes, foreign language classes had always been relatively easy seeing as they were simply memorizing words and meanings, which is what I had been bred to do since age three. The stage is the fortress of memorization, and therefore my mind was conditioned to gather information quickly and easily, and retain it like a sponge holds onto water.
Imperfects. A college level theory of Spanish but nonetheless, more memorization. I had nothing else to do but daydream of my undeniably bright future, the California rolls I had picked up on the way to school, and Finn Hudson. There he was, two seats over with the blankest of looks on his face as he stared at the whiteboard. I could feel a small smile tug at the corners of my lips as I rolled my eyes. Finn of all people should be able to grasp the concept of 'imperfects', seeing as he himself was one.
Can I deny this claim? Of course not. With his dopey, what's-going-on? expression permanently plastered over his milky complexion and the increasing depth of his empty stare, he looked more like a big golden retriever more than anything else. Sure, I probably had more numbers in my repertoire than he had IQ points, and sure, his level of compassion was far beyond the limit of what show business calls for, but Finn was sweet. He listened to my problems and he cared about my feelings.
But he was imperfect. And I needed perfect. I need stability and strength, a leader, someone to spark the hottest burning flame in me to coax out the starlet on me. I need someone who can help me achieve my goal of fame, not hinder me in my efforts. And I can't help but feel that Finn, much as he is a sweetheart and charming, would be needier than Broadway. So this in itself makes him an imperfect.
Still, I could not deny everything about him that made my heart melt. His warm smiles, the way he smells when he passes by me, his untrained but beautiful voice, and most of all the sweet kisses I've made myself vulnerable to twice already. Why did I kiss him? I'm not so sure. I've always been so guarded in my feelings that it seems almost dreamlike that they had actually occurred.
I'm staring. I know I am. He looks at me with the simplest of charismatic smiles, nods at the board and shrugs. He mouths something along the lines of be my tutor? I crack a smile and bow my head in agreement, looking away quickly because I can feel the rosy glow blossoming on my cheeks.
Finn is so imperfect that it kills to me to admit that I'm madly, deeply, hopelessly in love with him. That's something the stage will just have to live with.
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(:
