DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the Characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and Fox. This is purely for fun. Enjoy :)

A/N: So, I just finished writing The Blizzard of 2010. I think I'm going to write a sequel for it, but it won't be for a while. Got a new idea for a short story and I'm going to run with it. Vive Finchel!

Creative Writing

A Short Story by The Minsk

Rachel dragged her feet along the linoleum of the floor, wanting very much to turn around and hide in the choir room until the end of the day. She didn't even know what she was doing here. She should have never signed up for this stupid class.

The only reason she did was because she thought he was going to sign up for it as well. It was a conversation that they had months ago, when it was time to choose classes for the next term. They sat on the stage with their course catalogs and he was browsing the electives.

"Hey what do you think about creative writing?" She shrugged her shoulders and flipped to the section for the English department. "I don't know. It might be interesting." He continued to look at the course description and nodded his head. "Yeah, I might sign up. Sometimes I think it's easier to write the things that you really don't know how to say, you know?" he looked at her with his soft, warm eyes and she felt her insides melt into goo.

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

But that was months ago. Neither of them had mentioned it since, and she wasn't sure he even signed up for it. She sighed. It was going to be a long semester.

It was the first day back from Holiday Break and Rachel hadn't heard a word from him the entire time. She tried to text him and she received no reply. She had asked her fellow Glee club members if they had spoken to him, and they all replied no.

As far as she knew, he might have quit altogether.

She entered the classroom and recognized no one in the sea of students. Of course. She sat in the back of the room and hoped that he would walk through the doors.

The bell rang. No Finn. She sighed and laid her head down onto the table. She heard someone call her name. Her head shot up. Finn?

"Well if it isn't the hottest little Yentl this side of the Mississippi!" She wanted to throw up. It was Jacob Ben Israel. Why couldn't the world open up and swallow her whole?

"Leave me alone Jacob." She said without lifting her head.

"Just think of all the ways I can express my love for you in a creative writing class. You know you can't resist a good sonnet." He wiggled his eyebrows up and down and she prayed for salvation.

All of a sudden, the teacher entered the room. She had flaming red hair that was frizzy and wild, like a mane of fire around her face. She was wearing all black, dripping in dangling costume jewelery from her ears to her wrists. She wore an enormous, heavy black shawl, that reached all the way down to the floor and dragged behind her. Her glasses had huge frames that made her eyes the most prominent feature on her face, and she was smiling a little bit too brightly.

"Hello! Hello and Welcome to Creative Writing!" She spoke in a high soprano and her dictation was so fluid, it sounded as if she was singing her speech. She even had a slight British accent; How anyone could move from Britain to Lima, Ohio, Rachel would never know. "I am your teacher for the duration of this term, and my name is Sylvia! And yes, that is my first name. I have no last name. I respond to only Sylvia!" Rachel wanted to laugh. She was so upset that none of her friends were here to witness the craziness of this lady. Every time she said her name she raised her voice up an octave and embellished it with a wave of her hand.

Before Sylvia could say anything else, the door opened and some late students walked in. Rachel sat up straight in her seat.

Finn was one of them.

When he entered the room, he barely whispered a sorry and sat in the very first seat by the door. Rachel doubted that he noticed her. Sylvia gave them all looks of disappointment, and sang in her loud voice, "Ah, please try not to be tardy! How will we ever delve deep into your creative souls if we are pressed for time?" She turned to the rest of the class and said, "All right my innovative darlings, up out of your seats. I want you all sitting alphabetically while I take attendance." Rachel groaned. Typical first day activities. She looked up at Finn and he still hadn't noticed her. Sylvia started her roll call/seat assignments.

"Ah, Rachel Berry?" Rachel said "here" and raised her hand. From the corner of her eyes she noticed Finn whip his head around at the sound of her name. Sylvia pointed to the first row, third seat. "Rachel come sit here, behind Jacob Ben Israel." She blanched. Couldn't his name be alphabetized by the Israel instead? She gathered her things and sat behind the bane of her existence. She sighed. Now she had to stare at his Jew fro all semester. She took this opportunity to steal glances at Finn, and she was embarrassed when they locked eyes. He waved to her and mouthed the word, 'hi.' She waved right back. Finn was eventually seated the next row over, but two seats down from her. He threw a note at her, and it hit her on her shoulder. She opened it up quickly and smoothed out the paper.

"I'm glad you signed up for this class." She scribbled back "Me too" and tossed it to him. He opened it and she saw him smile.

Maybe this semester won't be so bad after all.

"Now, now my dears! I want to explain to you my process of creativity. I believe that creativity is a personification of the feelings of the soul. When your soul is ready to express itself, it can manifest in a multitude of ways. Throughout this course we are going to dig deep inside your heart and your soul in order to give your brain a shot of creative adrenaline and open yourselves up to the world!" Rachel turned around and caught Finn's eye. He mouthed to her, "She is crazy!" with the appropriate hand gestures and she shook her head with enthusiasm.

"Every week we have a new topic! We spend the majority of the week revising drafts and having peer-editing sessions, but on Fridays, and that means every Friday, I personally pick a few of my favorite stories from the week to be read aloud." At this news, many of the students groaned, Finn included. Rachel didn't mind all that much, she was a great public speaker.

"All right, we are going to start on a simple topic for the first week. Something easy, to kick-start the process of creativity in your minds! You are to describe, in lush and descriptive detail, the contents of your dream home." Her face got very serious and intense, " I want to know how many rooms, living room, bed rooms, closet space. I want to know if you have a pool or a jacuzzi. Have you ever had cockroaches? Is it by the beach or up in the mountains? Go crazy with it; I want to know how much money you spent on the kitchen renovation you did last summer! Is it haunted by the ghosts of family's past? Creativity People! That's what this class thrives on! I want a draft of at least 1,000 words by Wednesday. Peer-editing Thursday, presentation Friday. Get to work!"

"And I want lush detail! I want to be able to see the mold on the rotten food in the fridge! I want to smell the dirty jock straps and underwear in your hamper! I want to know exactly where in your bedroom you hide your porn collection!" Finn was imitating Sylvia in his highest, most girly voice. Rachel was doubled over in laughter, she had to stop walking because she had a cramp in her side.

"Finn . . .stop. . . I'm dying. . ." She said in-between bouts of laughter. He joined in on the laughter as they walked to Glee rehearsal. "She is the craziest teacher I think I've ever had! I like her though." Finn nodded his agreement, "Yeah, she is different. But I guess if you dabble in creative writing you need to have a few screws loose, no?" He smiled at her and she returned it a bit shakily. She hoped he wasn't talking about himself. She didn't even know what to say to him, so she just kept her mouth shut and talked about the writing assignment.

"So what are you going to add in your dream house Finn?" He looked pensive for a second and shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. I guess a video game room and home theater with a full surround-sound speaker system is a good start!" She smiled and pat him on the back, "There you go Finn! Your creativity is already flowing and it's only been one day."

"I guess it's just the influence of Sylvia!" And when he said her name, he flung his hand in the air and sang the name in falsetto. She giggled the rest of the way to Glee rehearsal.

By early February, Rachel and Finn had become very close through their creative writing class. They bonded over their penchant for making fun of their teacher, Sylvia. Sometimes they took notes on how many times she said the word "soul" in one class (her record was 25) or called the class her "Creative Muffins." Sometimes they spent hours texting each other and talking about the crazy things she said in class and how many people she tripped with her giant shawl that she wore everyday. But as much as they made fun of her, they both genuinely liked her a lot and enjoyed her class.

They would meet after Glee at the town library on Thursdays to revise their final drafts together. She even bought him a Thesaurus to brush up on his vocabulary. She loved the time they were spending together, and she never asked him once about his feelings or if he had started talking to either Quinn or Puck again. She guessed he hadn't crossed that bridge yet.

They worked as peer-editing partners almost every week, and Rachel was impressed with the writing that Finn was doing on his own. He had a real knack for creative writing, and enjoyed most of the topics they had to write about.

That was until Sylvia introduced their most recent topic: Passion

"Listen well my fruitful blossoms! Passion is a force that countless writers have tried to express in their work. You come across countless sonnets, poems, stories and books written about love and passion and the emotions they invoke in the soul. This week's assignment is about Passion. I want you to dig deep down into yourselves and write a story about what makes you feel passionate. Now it doesn't have to be feelings of love. There are other emotions that inspire passion in people, like anger, jealousy and greed. I want you to think about what makes you feel passionate, what makes you feel alive. Do you take your passion out on someone else? Do you fight it off, do you repress it? Be honest with yourselves. Bare your soul. No length requirement. And only the best one will be read on Friday, Anonymously, by me."

That was Monday. It was already Friday. Finn hadn't talked to her since.

She was hurt. She had tried so hard to be the friend he needed at the time, when both he and she knew that she wanted more. Sometimes she thought he felt the same; there were days they shared secret smiles and it seemed like he always took an opportunity to steal a caress or rub his thumbs across the back of her hand.

Their singing had even improved, Finn had really started to open up more at rehearsals and Mr. Schuester thought they sounded better than ever. She found herself getting swept up in the songs they would sing together and she sometimes forgot that other people were there. At last Friday's rehearsal, Mr. Schuester gave the team a cut-off but Rachel and Finn were still singing, they were so wrapped up in the song they just didn't notice. The other Glee kids just stared at them, not singing, while they continued, oblivious to the world. It was only when Mr. Schue went up to the two of them and placed a hand on their shoulders that they even realized they were at a rehearsal. She'll never forget the look of confusion and pain in his eyes when they realized what had happened. It almost scared her. That was the most awkward practice ever, and he hadn't said much to her since.

So she felt her anger was justified when she stomped down the hallway towards his locker. He was standing there alone, grabbing his textbooks for Math when she walked up to him with her hands on her hips.

"So, it's Friday. It's been almost a whole week. Are you talking to me again yet?" He looked down to the ground, shame covered his features. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I was a big jerk this week. If it makes you feel better It's mostly Sylvia's fault." He embellished Sylvia's name in falsetto, but she wasn't laughing this time. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I have a feeling she's going to read my paper in class today."

"OK, but why haven't you talked to me all week, you made me do peer-editing with Jacob and he wrote his story about the day of our wedding. I almost called my dads to file a restraining order when he starting going into details about the Wedding Night!" Finn winced. That was brutal.

"I think you'll know why when you hear my paper. And then if you still want to talk to me, I'll be waiting for you after class." He turned and walked away to his next class and she stood in the hallway, momentarily stunned.

What the hell did that mean? What could he possibly have written about that warranted a week's worth of the silent treatment?

She mused this and many other questions for the rest of the afternoon, waiting desperately for 8th period.

Sylvia entered the room in a rush of fabric as her long black shawl flew behind her and smacked the faces of the students in the front row. "Oh Sorry dears! I cannot control my unadulterated excitement at today's presentation on the topic of Passion. I was more than proud of my ingenious little writers this week, but I believe that one of you has produced one of the most honest, soul-bearing essays I have ever had the pleasure of reading in my 25 years as an educator of the written word!" She was flushed and her hair was more wild than Rachel had ever seen. Was she really going to read Finn's paper? What did he write about?

"Now, I promised that I would read this anonymously, and I intend to keep that promise. That is, unless, the person would like to read it themselves?" She looked around the room and waited a few seconds, but no one in the class moved. She shook her head and turned back to the story. "So without further ado, I present to you, "Music For the Soul."

She cleared her throat and began with heavy emotion in her voice.

"It has been almost two months since I became void of passion. Of any feeling of love or a gentle emotion untainted by bitterness. Whatever I had felt before had changed, disguised itself as anger and loathing and ate away at my heart. It returned last week and caused more damage than when it left in the first place." Rachel looked over at Finn. He had his arms crossed on the table and he had buried his head in them. She had a feeling it was his essay.

"At first, things were simple. Too simple. I was simple. Simple enough for people to manipulate me and how I felt. I treated other people like garbage and cared only about what others thought of me. If only I truly understood the people I was hurting then, I wouldn't have made the same mistakes over and over again. Then something had changed. I had changed. I was different. I was inspired. I was accepted. I was whole.

Because I had heard her sing."

Rachel's jaw had hit the floor. Could the essay possibly be about her? Was this why Finn wouldn't work with her that week or talk to her?

"It was like hearing bells on a clear day. The brightest most beautiful sound I had ever heard. It completed me when I thought I was already whole, and I was opened up to a new world. A world of music and emotions and passion and joy. A world of love.

I should have known it would come to an end. Because I was still simple enough to not know I was living a lie. The truth of my reality was shattered, along with my pride and my trust in others.

The darkness came then. The pain and suffering blanketed my life like an abyss. But her voice was a constant beacon in the dark. When the world was overwhelming, her voice was the calm. She couldn't ever know the way she affected me. She changed me. She made me want to be better.

I want to be better for her. I want to hear her voice and feel my heart pound in my chest. I want to feel alive.

She makes me feel alive.

Because I heard her sing."

Rachel heard the clapping of the students in the class but she made no movement. She was frozen in place, a breathing Rachel Berry statue. She looked out of the corner of her eyes behind her and noticed Finn's head was still down. It stayed down until the bell rang.

She gathered her things and waited for him to move in any way. Sylvia wished them all an "enchanting weekend filled with happiness and repose for the soul," and left, her black shawl tripping some students on their way out of the classroom.

When it was only Finn and Rachel left in the room, he finally lifted up his head. She went and sat in the desk in front of him. It was the end of the day. They weren't going to be bothered.

"I can't believe she actually read it," he pinched the bridge of his nose and he looked like he was in pain. "I'm such a chicken shit, I couldn't even do it myself."

"I thought it was beautifully written Finn. I'm glad my Thesaurus paid off." She smiled at him and it seemed to ease some of the tension out of his face.

"You think so? I couldn't figure out how to express something that is still so foreign and confusing to me. I literally spent hours writing it Rachel, hours. Like, I haven't spent that much time on an activity since the release of Halo 4." He looked up at her and she could see the vulnerability in his eyes. "You know it was about you right?"

She shrugged trying to be nonchalant, but her heart pounded ferociously in her chest, "I was really hoping it was about me, but I wasn't going to be presumptuous."

"Sylvia helped me write it. There was no way I came up with most of that stuff myself, especially the vocabulary. But she was willing to help me cause I told her it was about you. That's why I knew she was going to read it no matter what. You should have heard her," he switched to the falsetto voice and waved his hands in the air, "'To share one's deepest emotions with one another is like forming a connection to the other person's soul!'" She laughed and he finally smiled.

"I should have known she helped you, the word soul was in the title, and I thought we decided that was her favorite word." At this he laughed and he stood up and gathered his things. She stood up as well and he reached his hand out to her. She took it and they headed to glee rehearsal.

"Imagine what she would say if she saw us right now?" Finn flailed his arms and his falsetto was extra sharp, "My ingenious protégées have cultivated a blossoming love that will span the ages of the universe!" She grabbed his hand again and leaned up to kiss him.

"Yeah, If we survive today's Glee rehearsal first!" They both laughed as they entered the choir room, hand-in-hand.

Salut mes amis!

That was my very first one-shot. I rather enjoyed it!

*sings* Don't Stop . . . Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk