It didn't take long to put the meal together and cook it, just until the meat and vegetables were fully cooked. If asked to recreate it? He wouldn't be able to do it in quite the same way. But if she wanted to think that he'd thought this all through, he wouldn't argue with her. He was hardly the perfect boyfriend, and he knew that as well as anyone. It wasn't really a lie if he didn't say anything about it right? A lie by omission wasn't a real lie.
The song, though, may have only really been thought about since he mentioned dinner at all, but he'd really put a lot of consideration into it the first time around, in New York. It seemed like the perfect song. It was the perfect song. He lightly squeezed her shoulders and smiled as he looked down at her. Lifting one hand, he stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers while he wrapped up the last few lines of the song.
So often, Finn felt like she listened to his singing more than his speaking. It just seemed like spoken word didn't get through to her quite as well. Besides, songs just seemed to have a way to say things he couldn't find the words for. Words weren't really his thing, after all. He was aware that he sort of lacked the vocabulary to fully express what he wanted to, most times. His own words just screwed things up. It was like there wasn't enough communication between his brain and his mouth, or something. Or it could've been like a lost in translation thing.
None of that mattered, though. What mattered was how happy she looked, staring up at him like that. So appreciative. So beautiful. He leaned down to press a light kiss to her forehead and then took his seat at the table. Everything was going so perfectly. She agreed to move in with him, she seemed to like the song, and dinner hadn't burned, so that was a plus (and hopefully she wouldn't find out that her boyfriend was giving her real meat). He picked up his fork and started to push his food around his plate. "I don't want you to leave tonight, Rachel. I want you to stay here, you know, with me."
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The song, though, may have only really been thought about since he mentioned dinner at all, but he'd really put a lot of consideration into it the first time around, in New York. It seemed like the perfect song. It was the perfect song. He lightly squeezed her shoulders and smiled as he looked down at her. Lifting one hand, he stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers while he wrapped up the last few lines of the song.
So often, Finn felt like she listened to his singing more than his speaking. It just seemed like spoken word didn't get through to her quite as well. Besides, songs just seemed to have a way to say things he couldn't find the words for. Words weren't really his thing, after all. He was aware that he sort of lacked the vocabulary to fully express what he wanted to, most times. His own words just screwed things up. It was like there wasn't enough communication between his brain and his mouth, or something. Or it could've been like a lost in translation thing.
None of that mattered, though. What mattered was how happy she looked, staring up at him like that. So appreciative. So beautiful. He leaned down to press a light kiss to her forehead and then took his seat at the table. Everything was going so perfectly. She agreed to move in with him, she seemed to like the song, and dinner hadn't burned, so that was a plus (and hopefully she wouldn't find out that her boyfriend was giving her real meat). He picked up his fork and started to push his food around his plate. "I don't want you to leave tonight, Rachel. I want you to stay here, you know, with me."