My fingers splayed out across the keys, settling comfortably between the black and the white. I pressed down, listening intently to the soft blending of notes as they filled the silent air before my hands skirted across the length of the keyboard, easily playing the chords that I had memorized.
It was only when I heard shuffling behind me that I fumbled with the song I had been playing and turned slightly, smiling when I saw Finn stood halfway through the door, a big white paper bag dangling from his fingertips.
"I brought Chinese food," he smiled, wiggling his hand around to display the bag.
"My favorite," I grinned, turning off the keyboard and replacing it on it's stand as I stood. Finn followed me into the kitchen, immediately setting the bag down on the counter and grabbing two plates from the dishwasher. I watched as he loaded the plates up with different kinds of chicken, steamed vegetables, noodles, and shrimp.
Finn moved around the kitchen easily, knowing exactly where to find silverware and napkins and glasses. He knew that I preferred to have the pink lemonade that I kept stocked in the fridge with my meals rather than water on most nights. He knew that even though I had a table, I liked to eat on the couch and watch Glee or Pretty Little Liars.
Finn knew all of the little things about me, and I couldn't stop my brain from comparing his knowledge to Harry's. Harry had been at the forefront of my mind since his unexpected appearance last night. My mind had raced over everything that had happened countless times, something I had strayed from doing in awhile.
Now I realized that, where Finn knew the small things, Harry didn't. He knew that I had been hurt beyond belief, that my heart was covered in deep, permanent scars that not even time could heal. He knew that I was overly stubborn and that my mum was dead. He knew that my father never particularly cared for me.
Finn didn't know those things, but he knew that I could watch The Lion King on repeat and never grow bored of it. He knew that whenever I wore hats it meant that I was having a bad hair day and definitely wasn't some fashion statement. He knew that I hated wearing socks unless I had shoes on.
It made my heart ache a little to know that I had been completely infatuated with someone who knew so little about me. Harry had never been there to witness me at my happiest, and Finn had never saw me at my lowest. I wasn't sure which bothered me more.
"Here you go," Finn broke me out of my thoughts as he held out a full plate. I graciously accepted it, my feet immediately moving me to the living room. While Finn brought out the drinks and his own plate I turned on the television, flicking through channels for something enjoyable until I found an old season one episode of Glee.
"You and your shows," Finn smiled as he came to sit beside me.
I nodded in response, too busy with the food in my lap to give him a verbal answer as I dug in. Only when I noticed Finn watching me out of the corner of my eye did I finally drop my fork. "It's creepy to watch people eat," I commented, a smile tipping my lips to assure him that I was joking around.
He laughed. "I wasn't watching you eat."
"Then what were you doing?" I inquired, curiously tilting my head to the side as I waited for his response. His hazel eyes glowed with a warmth that made me want to know what he was thinking, and I was glad when he voiced his thoughts.
"Looking at you," he said shamelessly. "Your hair looks pretty in this light."
"This yellow, artificial light?" I laughed, hoping to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation. I wondered if Finn was oblivious to it. He always seemed perfectly at ease, so laid back about mostly everything.
