Chocalate eyes. Ash-brown hair. An abundance of beauty marks. Burgandy lips I can only fantasize about capturing in my own. Not to mention the rough, gorgeous voice that escapes from between those luscious lips every time he parts them….
"Kurt, you ok, man?"
Oh god. Those eyes… and they're staring directly AT ME, as if wishing to burn a hole straight through me.
I collect myself quickly, running a hand casually through the front of my hair to hide my nervous disposition.
"Yah, I'm just distracted by the bizarre arrangement of that you are currently 'sporting'."
I accused, resorting to my bitchy, fashion-forward side to compensate from my obvious staring.
Finn sucked in a quick breath, clearing taken aback by the rashness of my comment.
"Pun intended."
I added, for good measure, eyeing Merceded meaningfully.
"Sorry, dude. I guess I can't help it?"
Finn responded, looking self-conciously at the floor of the stage.
Mercedes shot me a disappointed look and then rolled her eyes before saying, "Alright everyone. From the top?"
I sighed as the group transitioned into the first formation, seeing Finn with a look of distanced torment. I caught my breath with a simple bite of my tongue- the iron taste punishment for my selfish cruelty.
To him I was nothing more then the bitchy flamboyant critic, and it would be best if it stayed that way…
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End story.
A/N: Oh the torment. I was kinda tired of all the happy endings I've been writing. So, there yah go! Please R&R!