It was different, she realized, than it had been with Archie. She had loved to listen to him talk, true, but the movement of his lips, soft and welcoming, had been the focus of her attention. He had been something to admire. Something to yearn for. There was something different about Finn. They were talking. Really talking, every word that he said burned into her with their importance. He was talking to her, not at her, or about her, or near her. He was showing her who he was, and the words were writing themselves into her brain like the afterimage of a bright light, staining her vision of him, making him all the more beautiful. And yeah, the desire to reach out across the few inches that separated them and touch his face burned in her gut till she was clenching her hands under her blankets in a sweaty attempt to hold everything together, but she managed it. This was important. Maybe she wasn't quite sure why, exactly. But it was.