Author's Note: Well, the holiday season is over. So I finally have time to write. This story has been so fun to write! There will be an epilogue published right after this. Thank you for all your reviews, favorites and follows!

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.

The Person Who Knows "Me" Best

Hello, my name is Finn Hudson, and I have no idea how to answer this question. Maybe

it's because I've never really thought about it, or just assumed I would never have to answer it. Either way, it's a difficult question.

I'm sure most (probably 99.9%) are going to write about a parent, someone who raised them, or if they really want to sound like a righteous person, God or another high power. Truth be told, I did consider my mother. She raised me by herself, after my father died fighting over seas. Played both parents as well as she could, made sure I knew I was loved. I have a lot to thank her for.

But, I think an outside perspective would be better. So admissions staff at NYU, I would like to tell you about my best friend Rachel.

We met when I was about six years old, in small town Lima, Ohio. When she moved in next door, it was the talk of the town. The Berry's were the first gay couple to make their presence known in a town full of football loving hicks. It was never strange to me, seeing her with two dad's. I had grown up without one, and she had two. The town though, didn't see it like that. No one ever said anything out loud, but you could see it, in there faces. Rachel never let it bother her, and maybe that's why it eventually stopped. No one was curious anymore.

She's determined, super talented, and the kindest person I know. And I could go on about her and who she is, but that doesn't really answer the question.

When someone really knows you, it's not about your favorite color or what music you like. It's about the color that they like you best in, and the music you listen to when someone breaks your heart.

The most important thing though, is forgiveness.

You see, I dated this girl. She was new to Lima, all New York glamorous and willing to do anything for male attention. I was star struck, completely mesmerized by everything she was and what she was offering. Rachel on the other hand, saw right through her, and it turns out this girl I was dating, was a bully, is a bully. She said terrible things about Rachel, things I had never heard, but refused to believe.

It all came crashing down when this girl soaked my best friend in a slushy from the local gas station. I broke it off, but that doesn't fix everything. I let it come to my best friend being humiliated by my girlfriend, in front the entire student body.

We broke each other's hearts that day, she was humiliated, and I was let go. I tried for months to get her to talk to me, nothing worked. But slowly, she found she couldn't ignore me, we had lockers next to each other and one morning, I think it was a Wednesday, I said Good Morning and she said it back.

Of course, we are still not who we were before. But do you ever really stay the same? We grow, move and learn how the world works for us. I'm pretty positive Rachel has that last one figured out.

She's special that way, knows what to do to make dreams happen.

But the real, honest, most truthful reason she is the person who knows me best, is because I'm in love with her.

Now, you might say I'm just a guy trying to win the heart of a girl. And since we're being honest, yes, that's part of it. But not all of it.

Sometimes when I think about Rachel Berry, it all bottles up inside and if I don't tell every stranger on the street about her, I think I might float into the sky.

She's my best friend and without her I'd be lost.

She's Rachel.

The End.

For the record, she says I look best in dark green, and as for heartbreak music? "Marry Me" by Train, seriously, it rips you up.


Something is constricting her chest. And she can't help but bring her hand to her heart. Feeling the thumping against her palm.

Part of her almost believes it's some sick joke, but even Noah isn't that cruel. Her best friend loves her, at least in words.

And yes for the better part of knowing him, she's been waiting. Loved him like a little girl loves a prince, before she grew up some more, and realized that love might be real.

They're young, most people say teenagers don't really know what love is. But she physically aches for him, so that must mean something.

The letter is still settled in her hands, tension from her fingers has caused wrinkles, no longer crisp and white.

She needs to see Finn.


He always felt like the snow warmed up the house somehow. Packing into every nook and cranny, hugging the house like a blanket.

But tonight, it seems colder. Sleeping with socks on was always uncomfortable, but he can't feel his toes, and the idea is tempting.

For a moment he considers pulling a pair from his dresser drawer when a thumping shakes the house.

Now, he's always had this hope that maybe Santa Claus was real, because everything about Christmas is so damn magical, but he doesn't necessarily think he's outside his bedroom window.

He almost takes it for a squirrel or something, when a small scream hits his ears.

Running to the window he throws it open, peering to his right. Small pink hands are clinging to the edge of the roof.

"Someone help me! Finn!"

Clambering onto the snowy roof, he looks down to see Rachel dangling, one boot lying on the ground below.

"Rachel what the hell are you doing?!"

"I was just..I'll tell you after you pull me up!"

Reaching down, he pulls her onto the roof. Before both of them fall flat on their backs, flakes falling onto eyelashes.

"So, you want to tell me, why you tried to climb the trellis, in the middle of winter, in the snow?"

"It was supposed to be romantic you know. I would climb up onto your roof, gracefully of course, knock on your window, and tell you I read it."

"Read what? My Christmas card? You've never cared so much about them before…although I did include that gem of a Christmas joke."

She's laughing, the sound somehow echoing off the snow.

"No, your essay."

"Oh, that. Look Rachel, I was just being honest, but I don't what you to think I was trying to win you over. Because I wasn't."

He hopes she knows that. She should know that.

"I know. But just so you know, it worked."

His ears don't hear what she said, but he knows his heart did, by the way it's trying to fight its way out of his chest.

"Really?"

"Finn if you haven't realized how long I've adored you, you would have to be completely clueless."

Before he can formulate a response, she's kissing him. Pressing his pajama clad body deeper into the snow.

Now, he's been kissed before, under mistletoe, spin the bottle, in a closet during a middle school game of seven minutes in Heaven. But never by Rachel.

She has the most perfect lips, soft from all the chapstick she uses, and he can tell she just brushed her teeth.

If he's being honest, he always thought that if he ever did kiss Rachel it would be on a dare. Maybe from Puck. It would be awkward, clumsy, and would probably never happen again.

But sometimes it's more than that. Maybe even a little cliché. The girl next door is the girl you love for the rest of your life.

And that's okay.