Isn't She Lovely

Isn't she lovely?

Isn't she wonderful?

Isn't she better?

Isn't she pretty?

Truly the angel's best

Isn't she lovely?

Isn't she beautiful?

He watches her, his brown amber eyes deep with longing for her as she sways to the music with the curly haired older guy, her head resting on his shoulder as he smiles smugly, victoriously his way. His teeth clenches with anger, venom waiting to be unleashed as his own blonde vixen latches on his arm. She looks so happy and content as the music flows through the wind, whispering sweet nothings to her.

Her eyes are closed and it's like she's dreaming of her fairytale ending. He was supposed to be her prince not Jesse St Jerkass. He finds himself humming as the Stevie Wonder track plays in the background; he's holding her tightly against his body. His words echo into his thoughts.

'Rachel and I are going to get sexually reacquainted. I've booked a hotel room for us, to you know, and ravish eachother.'

He can't bear the thought of the slimy jerk touching her, his hands caressing her delicate thighs, cupping her round breasts and kissing her roughly, bruising her full pink lips. He gulps, singing along, watching her intently. Her eyes flick open to find his across the room staring at her like she's a gold mine in the dessert, captivated by her beauty in the dark ambience of the night. She's so beautiful and he can't help himself.

His eyes shut trying to erase the image his mind has conjured up of someone else devouring her, thrust for thrust as she moans into the night, screaming his name. St James just smirks at him, winking his way as his hands travel further down her petite waist, oblivious.

They met eachother at the damn music store again and reunite like two doves in the pond, two singers in a duet, music and lyrics. Sure she and Jesse made sense. But no matter how hard her tried he couldn't forget her. Her contagious laugh and her bright smile, her glowing brown eyes and her quirks. She was supposed to be his. And he was supposed to be hers.

The chatter of the crowd detracts from the music in the room filling the air, the tension thick between the two suitors. He finds his hands travelling down to touch the curve of her ass and he flips. He loosens from Quinn's deathly grip and marches his way over to St James, his fist clashing with his smug face, wiping away the arrogant smirk on his pretty girly face. God he hates that guy. The next thing he knows, there's a whole commotion as the pounch table crashes as the jerk falls against it thanks to his brute force by shoving him off of her.

'Finn! Stop it! Stop!'

He can't stop punching the guy's face, his veins popping with anger coursing through his blood as he warns the jackass to stay away from his girl. Her tiny hands are restraining him feebly begging him to stop when the coach comes in to break up the altercation.

He turns to see Rachel shaken by his violent outburst, his knuckles sore from the punches he's thrown against the guy's jaw. She's disappointed and he hates the look on her face right now.

He's sent home and doesn't get to see another guy dance with her at prom, as she stays behind, not even following him to the car to lecture him on her stance of violence and go on about how she's a pacifist or how his behaviour tonight was totally abominable.

He's lying on the bed, licking his wounds and sulking when the door creaks open.

It's Kurt, rolling his eyes. He better not have warm milk with him cos even though he's his brother now, the guy creeps him out with his idea of lady chats. Dude, that stuff just freaks him out.

'She's pissed, you know. You ruined her night.'

He doesn't care less about Quinn right now; screw the fake plastic crowns and tiaras. He rolls over on the bed as Kurt invites himself into the room.

'What the hell got into you?'

Finn grunts in annoyance, wishing his brother would leave him be.

'You launched into him like a caveman. Rachel was not impressed. Are you that much of a jealous ex you can't bear to see her dance with another guy? Gee, Finn, ease up on the macho stuff.'

His throat is dry cos he's only had like 3 punch drinks tonight, and barely eaten anything all day thanks to Quinn goading him about his penguin weight and how he has to have poised posture when she dances with him, requiring him to starve himself like a girl for the day so he doesn't bust out of his suit.

Ugh, this sucks. The whole prom, Jesse coming back, Rachel angry, it all sucks so bad.

'She's mad at you, you know. You had no right to punch Jesse like that, the guy has a broken jaw, you're lucky she got him to calm down enough not to press charges against you. Rachel's a free agent you know; she can dance and date whoever she chooses. You need to get used to it.'

'I can't' he mumbles. 'Why him?'

He looks at Kurt with genuine alarm.

The guy just rubbed him up the wrong way, he could get used to her dating and dancing and giggling with another guy, Puck, Sam, just not him. The guy tried to pressure her into sex 3 weeks into them dating then egged her, left her broken. How could she just forgive him so easily and sway with him like it's the most natural thing ever!

'Why Quinn?'

His nostrils flare up as he glares at Kurt.

He doesn't know why he went back to the blonde, maybe because it was familiar and easy to pretend than it was to face the truth Rachel, the perfect girl, his perfect person let him down in the way he least expected.

'You're not over her, Finn. You need to let her know or let her move on.'

Kurt leaves the room as Finn revels on his last words. Let her move on. Not with Jesse St Jackass, no way. What a mess. His head hits the pillow as he brushes his hands over his worn out face.

What a night.