A/N: This is my first story on here and in a while, so it might be a little rough so bare with me. It'd really appreciate it if you reviewed, as does every author on here. So thank you in advance and I hope you enjoy my first one-shot.
The Difference.
He wished he could do it all again. Rewind. Erase. Change.
He'd do everything differently. He'd register his feelings instead of acting upon impulse. He'd think about things, about the consequences before mindlessly diving into something. He'd change his mistakes, re-write his errors, erase the hurt. He knows she'd change things too if she could, it's in her eyes.
She looks at him differently now. No-more what if's burdening her mind, no-more when's filling her eyes like the tears he's seen fall many times. She holds his hand differently now too. She used to hold onto him, squeezing to register a reaction, it was like he was her life line, she was clinging onto him like she needed him. Her kisses have changed too, they're no longer urgent, like she's trying to fit as many in as she can. Now, her kisses are soft, intimate, loving, like she's savouring his taste.
He's noticed his mind rambles now, instead of his mouth. He noticed when she was lying next to him after their win a regional's, his hand firmly grasping hers, her head lay delicately on his chest, breathing in time with the rising of his chest. His eyes were attached to her head, the chestnut waves flowing across his chest, down to her shoulders, making her shudder as the wind caused them to move gently, tickling her neck. He zoned out. His mind re-telling his heart the story of the past year, his mistakes, her mistake.
His mind wanders to the difference in her touches, she used to just cling to him but now, she touches him, his arm, hand, leg, face. They're soft, slow and only momentary, but it's enough for him. The sparks, the electric, they're enough for him. She shifts a little in her daze, rubbing her cheek against his broad chest, her hands tracing a pattern down his sides, he shivers but it's a good thing.
Everyone else has noticed the difference in their relationship too. Quinn backs off, she knows she's lost him; she can't get to them anymore. It makes him sad to see her face fall as they walked back into the choir room, hand in hand. He still loves her. It's just not as strong as his feelings for Rachel. Quinn's touches are just registered in his mind, not his heart, unlike Rachel's.
Puck's backed off, even if he never really wanted her. He doesn't even make his vulgar comments (She thought him that word, that's something that's different too, he actually listens intently to her now) But he's a fool to think it'll last. Next year, Puck will be back to his normal self, passing comment, judgement to everyone but he won't let it get him like it used to.
Next year, their last year. It'll be different. He can feel it. He won't let anything break them. They'll be closer than ever, a solid unit. They'll be best friends, lovers, a team, well he hopes so. Kurt called them Finchel as they arrived at the Hudson-Hummel home for a celebratory dinner, she giggled, her hand running down his chest before moving to pull Kurt into a hug. He sighed, watching them, glad he sees the good in Rachel he always knew was there. He thinks back to the name, Finchel, he likes it, it deserves a grin from him as he makes his way over to the two divas. His diva is now ecstatically explaining to his mom about their win, her arms flying everywhere as she describes in accurate detail their steps, a small smile sliding onto his mom's face as she hears about how everyone's proud they made it to nationals, even if they placed 12th.
He hears Kurt telling his dad about the changes to his relationship with Blaine now he's back at McKinley. Burt smiles, placing a large hand on Kurt's small shoulder. He tells him change is good, the difference between the new and the old shows how people can grow. He silently agrees, isn't he a perfect example? He joins his family as dinner is called, positive that next year's going to be different, better.