But Nothing Is Illogical, Believe Me
They're at Breadstix when he "officially" asks her out to prom or something. It was some absurd idea of Quinn's that he had to formally ask her out- "seal the deal, but don't make it obvious"- and she had to act all surprised and happy at his request. But asking her out to prom wouldn't make a difference anyway; she'd already picked out her prom dress two months ago and custom made his tie to match her dress exactly to the right shade. It was a pointless gesture on all sorts of levels.
Quinn's hair is slightly curled, and truthfully, it looks a little frizzy and so totally not shiny, but it's not like he'd ever tell her that. She is dressed in this ridiculous get up: dull patterned dress, a jean jacket, complete with some leather boots that make her look like she's part of a rodeo. The funny thing is that everyone, meaning the whole school population, thought Quinn was some fashion icon goddess, but if he was being brutally honest, he'd beg to differ. At least Rachel's clothes are different in a cute way.
Back then (before baby-gate and the issues that ensued) Quinn could manage the innocent, baby doll, I'm-the-perfect-role-model look just fine. But now, it's like she'd sold all of her previous attire and bought some outfits from a garage sale held by his grandmother. Like last week, when the whole glee club was practicing for Nationals and he almost killed Rachel, the outfit Quinn was sporting- prime example of what she's wearing tonight. I'm sure her clothes could possibly be visually appealing to some particular individuals, but to him, it's too vintage looking and brings him flashbacks of times spent at his grandma's old stinky house. Plus, what is it with her and that fetish with those cowboy boots? He usually doesn't pay attention to what people are wearing, but recently he's been quick to judge people's choices in apparel. Or just Quinn's choices, to be more specific. Ever since his errr… separation from one five-foot-two-inch brunette with chocolate eyes you could literally melt in (God, you need to stop thinking about her Finn) Quinn's style has been diminishing to sub zero. Maybe it's just her bitchiness that makes every other little detail and characteristic in her annoying as hell. Actually, the more he thinks about it, the more his thoughts wander over to his stakeout with Rachel last night.
I never understood why you got back with her, I mean, if you can't even trust her.
He honestly has no idea. At first it was because he felt fireworks, but now, even that's a lame excuse. What was he even thinking? He knew what Rachel said about "forgiving your first love for everything" was wrong because did he ever have feelings like that for Quinn in the first place? His mentally rewinds his brain, searching for any trace of him that proved his conscious wrong. Sure, she was hot and there wasn't a doubt that she was one of the prettier girls whom were envied at McKinley. But all he could recall of his memories with the blonde was ones in which consisted of nasty arguments or bitter sweet sentiments that seemed so fake. And presently, the main memory of his and Quinn's relationship was falling asleep while she went on about Prom Queen and King (like he cares about plastic tiaras and crowns).
Which brings him back to the topic of his ex-girlfriend.
He's always having dreams about Rachel, but never has he once had one about Quinn. Even when he and Quinn are having an occasional make-out session (usually Quinn rewarding him for obliging with her choices on prom), he always dreams of those full, red lips in place of those thin, stale ones.
In a way, he feels kind of guilty. If Quinn were ever to take a vacation into his brain, she'd freak out and the chance of raising each other's reputation would come to a halt. Right, now he remembers the reason he was so intent on winning over blonde's heart: social status. But even with Quinn's extra boost, he can't help but recall that during those blissful months spent with Rachel, reputation didn't rule his world. Point in fact is, when he's with Rachel, he could be himself. When he's with Quinn, not so much. The more obvious answer would be to do what his heart's telling him to go for, but his brain is in strong opposition. All these thoughts are confusing him, and God, he's starting to sound like Rachel in his head.
He gets his head out of gutter (or no not the gutter, because he wasn't necessarily thinking of dirty thoughts, but then again Rachel was somewhere in the midst of it all so Quinn might think it was dirty… man he's over analyzing things too much) just in time because Quinn has this pointed look on her face like he's done something wrong, only she's not staring at him. He follows her train of eyesight and swiftly turns his head around to see the one and only star role in his daydreams walk through the doors of Breadstix with… Jesse St. Jackass on her arm? What the heck? At that instant, Rachel's eyes catch his and for a second, his facial features soften as he takes in her natural beauty. Her hair is in a bun, with little brown strands hanging loosely down her face. He waves her over clenching his fists as the douche bag's hand slips down to take Rachel's in his.
"Hey Rach—"
But Jesse cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. "Hello Finn, Rachel and I were about to have a lovely dinner together so if you'll just excuse us," he says in that suave little voice of his.
"He's right Finn, we should leave them so they can enjoy their night together," Quinn says before he can even come up with a snarky remark.
"I—", Finn starts, but he receives a quick kick from under the table.
"Well it's good to see you Finn. See you in glee rehearsal tomorrow," Rachel adds before stalking off towards her table with Jesse.
His eyes are a mix between confusion and fury as he mumbles "What the hell Quinn, was that kick really necessary?"
"If you'd put some more effort into making this night worthwhile, it wouldn't have been an issue! You are such a moron!"
"Well if you'd quit calling me a moron, maybe I'd think about cooperating!" he screams, throwing his hands up for emphasis. He's sick and tired of the way he's being thrown around like a puppy on a leash, and it's time to get out before he blows up completely.
"Quinn I need to go to the bathroom I'll be right back," he mutters.
He makes a mad dash for the restroom sign and collapses right between the men and women entrances. His head is in his hands and he can't think. The stress Quinn's been putting him through is enough as it is, but some St. Berry action? What kind of couple name is that, it's like not even combining names because they're two separate words! Did Rachel have feelings for him? How could he, he turned into a living omelet last year knowing she was a vegan! He heard footsteps approaching but he honest to god didn't care if he looked like a freak right now.
"Finn?"
He could recognize that voice from anywhere. If there were to be a test to find Rachel's voice within a thousand different people's voices, he would ace it.
"Finn? What's wrong?"
"What's wrong Rachel? I'll tell you what's wrong. I'm with Quinn and all she talks about is prom prom and more PROM and I just can't handle it anymore. Then when I come here, you're all lovey dovey with that jerk and what the hell is he doing here? I thought he was in UCLA or something getting his bachelor degree in being a jerk? Do you even remember what he did to you Rachel? How could you forgive him? And then there's you, and I can't stop thinking of you and how beautiful you look with your hair in a bun like that and I just want to twirl it through my fingers and feel how soft and shiny it is, and I want to kiss you right now cuz I'm pretty sure you're wearing your cherry lip-gloss today, cuz I can tell it's darker than what you normally use and gosh, I want you so bad and God I can't even talk right now I'm so confused in my head…"
Wait. Crap, did he just say that aloud? Crap, crap, crap, good job of filtering your words, Hudson. He expects a slap or a scream or something violent to punish him for his word vomit.
But instead, there's a sharp intake of breath from Rachel's side, and she softly places her hand on Finn's shoulder.
"Then do it," she states.
"Do what?" he responds, half in a daze by the tingling sensations her touch is sending him.
"Kiss me," she says in a low, almost raspy voice.
That's enough of an invitation for him as he pulls her down on the ground to his current position on the floor. He gently kindles her face in his large palms and plunges his face forward to meet her lips half way. He's on his knees, pushing her against the wall, and it feels so good. He can't believe he forgot what it felt like to kiss Rachel, the low dark fire it set off in the pit of his soul. They're gasping for air as they finally part, eyes boring into each other deeply.
"Rachel…" he's at loss for words. He wants to have her all, right now.
"…I love—" just as he's about to utter the words he's been meaning to say for what seems like centuries, she cuts him off.
"Finn… You're with Quinn and I'm with Jesse because he moved back here from California for me and… I can't deal with the pain anymore. We shouldn't have done this," Rachel states, and he sees a tear drop down her face. He reaches out his hand to wipe it off but she stands up immediately. "I'm sorry," she says before she dashes off back into the restaurant.
Finn stays seated on the ground, a bundle of emotions all caught up in his throat. He visualizes her lips on his once again, the fire it ignited and the love and passion that they shared for that split second. It was nothing compared to the small fireworks he felt with Quinn.
And then it all made sense; all the confusion and chaos that had been roaming his mind came to a close. Finn just brought back what he hadn't even been aware he'd been trying to dust off and hide for the past few months: his undenying love for the one Rachel Berry. It took just one kiss to fill the hole he'd been missing in his heart. He knew what he needed to do as he aroused himself from the floor. His relationship with Quinn was bound to burn out anyways. After all, Rachel was forever his, faithfully.