Writing Class

-Two Classes Later-

A new routine has been established since she brought him those playing cards. After class, Miranda follows him over to his place and they hang out for a while. He had originally offered to start picking her up for class and take her home, since she goes to his place after class. Although Miranda quickly squashed that. Not only does she live forty-five minutes away from campus, having him drive all the way to pick her up would be asking too much. She could never let him do that. She’s happy with their set-up, so Finn gave up with a sigh.

Miranda yawns, covering her mouth, trying not to make a noise during the video. Ryan brought in his copy of “Postcards From The Future: The Chuck Palahniuk Documentary”and she hates that she’s so tired. She’d been wanting to see the movie ever since it was first released. She gets bored during all the parts that don’t have much to do with the author but they still hold her interest.

She flinches when something bounces off her face and lands on the desk in front of her. She picks the crumpled bit of paper up, not bothering to look at it’s sender. She flattens it out and almost laughs out loud at what’s written.

What color are your panties?

She shakes her head in disbelief and smiles to herself. She knows he’s not expecting an answer, just doing it to try and shake her up. She grabs a pen from her bag and writes a response.

Not wearing any.

She swallows her grin, crumpling it back up and setting it on his desk. She watches him from the corner of her eye as he tips his head back to drink from his water bottle and flatten the paper out with his free hand. She turns her attention back to the movie. She receives his reaction by the choking noise he makes in his throat while in mid-swallow. She can’t stop the wide grin from spreading across her glossed lips.

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It took Miranda a little bit to feel comfortable in Finn’s home, but he seemed to do everything he could to set her at ease. So she now feels entirely comfortable sitting alone on his bedroom floor looking through his bookshelf. She eyes a few books that she’s been wanting to read, and eyes many that she’s never heard of, but now wants to read.

“Rand! Movie’s on!” Finn shouts from his living room. Miranda slides a book back into it’s own slot and jumps to her feet. While she makes her way into the living room, she stretches her arms above her head and feels her shoulder pop.

“Trying to be sexy for me?” Finn asks from his position on the couch.

She immediately drops her arms to her sides and shoots him a glare, “I hate you.”

Finn sighs in mock despair, “What shall I do with myself?”

Miranda ignores his question and stares down at him, “You are going to move right?”

Finn glances down at his body, “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“You really need to be spread out over the entire couch?”

“It is preferred…yes,” Finn answers with a nod.

“I’m getting a drink, when I come back, you better have made me some room,” Miranda informs him promptly and turns to the kitchen.

“Bring me some water,” Finn says just loud enough for Miranda to hear.

“Make me some room,” she shoots back in response and barely hears him mutter something that sounds like ‘bloody women’. She swings the refrigerator door open and looks through her options. She grabs one of the Diet Coke’s that Finn doesn’t drink, but bought for her. He seems to never drink any soda. All she’s seen him drink has been water and juice. He despises energy drinks, the caffeine makes him jittery. He’s the only guy that Miranda’s met who doesn’t drink energy drinks, thinking that it will somehow help with getting fit. His refrigerator is filled with bottles of water, a bundle of Diet Coke, and lots of fruit juice. He won’t drink apple. He’ll eat them, but he won’t drink the juice. She asked the last time she was here and he went into a fifteen-minute long diatribe about how it is unnatural to squeeze juice from apples. She decided never to mentioned apples to him again.

Grabbing a bottle of water in her other hand, she slams the refrigerator door closed and joins Finn.

When she sees what he’s done, she can’t help but laugh outright. He made her room. He’s still laying down, spread out. Now though, he’s even more spread out. He has his right leg hanging off the side of the couch and his left leg swung up on the back of the couch. His arms are folded behind his head, looking very content. His eyes fall on the water bottle and he reaches an arm up toward her. She steps just out of his reach and walks in front of the couch.

“I am not sitting in your crotch.”

“No fun.” Finn sighs and swings his left leg down, pulling himself up into a sitting position. He keeps his right leg on the couch, but it’s bent with his foot hanging off the couch.

Miranda smiles in gratitude and victory, handing him his water, and plopping down into the soft couch. “Okay, what are we watching?” she asks Finn curiously. He insisted on picking the movie and sent her from the room while he did it.

He makes a show of pressing ‘play’ on the controller while saying, “I present to you…‘Spinal Tap’.”

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“If I could marry Nigel Tufnel, I would,” Miranda replies without tearing her eyes from the screen.

“Nigel? You’re insane. It’s Derek.”

“No, I don’t think so. You’ve got your priorities all sorts of messed up. That’s what happens when you have bad taste.”

“Bad taste? I have bad taste? I’m not the one who watches Alias.”

“Hey, that’s a good show. Sure it’s going through some rough patches, but I have faith that it’ll pull through. I like it, I find David Anders rather agreeable. I’m not ashamed of watching Alias.”

“You should be.”

“I…choose to ignore you,” Miranda says smugly as she snatches the remote from his thigh and turns the volume up. She ignores the fact that Finn is looking very pleased with himself and instead focuses her attention on Nigel giving his little tour of his guitars.

“These go to eleven.”

“How could you pick Derek over him?”

“What can I say? I fell in love with the guy the moment he pulled the cucumber from his pants,” Finn says simply. A huge grin breaks out across Miranda’s face as she swings her legs over to rest on Finn’s lap.

“Careful with the armadillo,” Finn quotes jokingly and rests his hands on her knees.

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Miranda slowly drifts into consciousness with the sound of rain splattering against the windows and opens her eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep. The first thing she sees is Finn. His head is leaned back, resting on the back of the couch, his adam’s apple is prominent in the position. She doesn’t remember falling asleep, and she definitely doesn’t remember laying down like this; using his lap as a pillow. She’s laying flat on her back with her knees bent and her feet pushed between the cushions. Her hands are resting on her stomach and she twitches her fingers, noticing that Finn’s hand is resting just below her hands.

The TV’s been shut off, Finn’s passed out, and she has no idea what time it is. She’s afraid to move because it would wake Finn up, and she wouldn’t know what to say to him anyway.

After a few minutes of lying there, frozen in place, Miranda slowly begins to sit up. His hand doesn’t slide off of her like she expected. Before she can sit all the way up, his fingers press into her stomach and push her back down to her earlier position. A squeak comes from her throat in surprise and her eyes meet Finn’s. He’s wide awake with a large smile stretching over his lips.

“Trying to make a clean getaway?” Finn asks, his voice graveled with sleep.

“No…was just seeing what time it is,” Miranda manages to get out. The situation is incredibly awkward for her and she can feel a blush rise up her neck.

Finn glances pointedly at the cable box, clearly within her line of sight, and looks back at her, “Almost one.”

Miranda quickly sits up, “One? I have to get home. Why didn’t you wake me? When did I fall asleep? When did the movie end?”

“Yes. Because you were asleep. With about a half hour of the movie left to go. It ended a half hour after you fell asleep,” Finn slowly answered the questions, while counting them off on his fingers.

Miranda glares sideways at him, “Thanks, that was helpful.”

Finn sighs and stands up, stretching his arms above his head.

“Trying to be sexy for me?” Miranda quips, looking up at Finn.

Finn glances down at her, stone faced, “I have to try?”

Miranda ignores his challenge and pulls her long dark hair up to tie behind her head. She then reaches down to grab her discarded shoes.

“You’re not driving home,” Finn states.

“What?” Miranda looks up at him.

“It’s almost one in the morning Rand. I’m not letting you drive home at one in the morning. It’s too far and too late,” Finn says with conviction.

“Ohhhh….I’m sorry, I must have forgotten that I asked your permission.”

“You must have. You’re staying here. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I am not sleeping here!” Miranda insists loudly, and laces up her neon green Converse.

“Don’t make me take your keys Rand. It’s late, it’s raining, you aren’t driving,” Finn stands directly in front of her, his legs practically touching her knees. She glares up at him, towering over her, defiant and not about to let him tell her what she’s going to do. His face is in shadow and she can barely see his eyes.

“Keys are in my pocket,” she points out.

“You think that’ll stop me?”

She breaks eye contact and finishes lacing up her other shoe, “I’m going home Finn, it’s just rain, don’t be ridiculous. Stop acting like I‘m your girlfriend, separate the words and I‘m not even that.”

She stands up, not having thought about just how close she would be to Finn. He doesn’t budge, causing there to be only an inch of space between them. She breathes deeply and brings her eyes to his stark blue ones. All complaints and arguments she was getting ready to spit out, die in her throat. Words in general, die, before they can make it past her throat. Finn is staring intently down at Miranda, head tilted to the side, watching her, waiting for her to make a move.

A piercing ringing startles Miranda and her head whips towards the kitchen to settle on the phone. She looks back to Finn, expecting him to answer the phone, but he doesn’t even hint at the fact that he knows it’s ringing. He completely ignores it, his face never changing.

She begins to feel uncomfortable with the ringing phone, that he’s not answering, and desperately just wants to get away from Finn. Miranda heaves a sigh and places a hand on Finn’s upper arm to push him aside. She pushes, but instead of moving, he grabs her other arm and pulls her body up against his. Before she can react, Finn bends his knees slightly and presses his lips to hers. His lips slide against hers and he’s still pulling lightly at her arm to bring her closer. She gasps softly and Finn uses the opportunity to confidently slide his tongue past her lips. Her other hand comes up to push against his chest, but just ends up stopping to rest. She finds herself kissing him back, giving back as good as he can give. She relishes in the feeling of his warm tongue smoothing over the roof of her mouth, tickling. The taste of something she doesn’t recognize, but has a feeling that she’ll never forget. The feeling of his lips and hands. The way the stubble on his chin grates against her smooth flesh. The feeling of his fingers digging into her skin softly and the way he’s pressing his body into hers almost desperately.

Finn can’t ignore the need to breathe and pulls away harsher than he intended. The sounds of Finn’s rapid breathing fills Miranda’s ears as it blends with her own breathing. Her eyes widen at what she just did. What he just did. The ringing ceases and the answering machine picks up, filtering Finn’s message through the small condo. Seconds later and the person calling begins leaving a message:


“Fiiinnneeeyyy…are you there hun? Come on, I know

you’re mad at me but can’t you just talk to me? I’m

sorry babe. You know you’ll just end up calling me anyway,

so why don’t you just pick up now? Finney? Okay…call

me…I love you babe.”


The girl’s voice stops and the machine clicks off. Seconds tick by and Miranda can’t bring herself to meet Finn’s eyes. She stares down at her feet, just wanting to be home and away from this man. This man who apparently has some sort of relationship. This man who just kissed her when he’s in some sort of relationship. She needs time to think, to contemplate what the hell just happened.

She hears Finn sigh and than a gruff, “Look, I’m…sorry.” He steps back, farther away from her stiff form.

Miranda looks up, her voice tight with the effort of not raising her voice, “Sorry? Whatever for?”

“She…that’s not what it sounds like,” Finn tries to reason.

“Not what it sounds like? Do people actually use that excuse? Not what it sounds like…not what it looks like…not what it seems like,” Miranda mutters.

“Molly’s my…it’s complicated. But it’s not…” Finn runs his hand over his hair, down to his neck.

“You should call her back, she sounded…sad,” Miranda says softly, feeling the familiar sensation of hot tears pricking and trying to keep them at bay before ducking around Finn and grabbing her bag from its place on the ground. “I gotta get home.”

“Miranda,” Finn’s hand closes around her wrist but she brushes him off without answering. She quickly opens his front door and steps out, heading for her car.

Finn watches her through the open doorway, but doesn’t make a move to follow and stop her from leaving.

He watches the taillights of her car turn on the street, and speed away. After a few seconds of seeing nothing, he pushes the door shut and grabs the phone from its cradle, dialing quickly.

~“Hello?”~

“You can’t call anymore Molly.”

~“Finn, I knew you were listening.”~

“So what happened? Has the flavor of the month left already?”

~“…Don’t be mean.”~

“I’m entitled to some cruelty. You have to stop doing this. It’s not fair, for either of us. You can’t just call every time you get lonely.”

~“Finn, I’m sorry, I just miss you. Why don’t I come over? I’ll bring a carton of ‘Half Baked’ and we can talk.”~

“I already have some. You can’t come over. I just had someone over and I just hurt her. If I want anything with her, I need you to realize that this…whatever it is…is over with. You call when you’re depressed and I’m the farthest thing from your mind when you’re happy. You hurt me Molly and I’ve got to get over that.”

~“Finn I’m sorry, I told you I was sorry, what else do you want me to say?”~

“I want you to say that you’ll stop calling. Stop dating assholes, find a nice guy, nicer than me, you need that. I can’t be your nice guy anymore. I can’t wait for you to stop fucking around.”

~“I’m not fucking with you.”~

“Be honest with yourself, with me. If I let you come over here, you’ll tell me your sob story, I’ll feel guilty…sad…angry, whatever I end up feeling. We’ll fuck and it’ll be fine for a few weeks. I’ll think, ‘She’s finally staying, she loves me.’ But one morning, I’ll wake up, and you won’t be here anymore. I’ll get a note as my consolation prize. I’m not going through that anymore, maybe in the past I haven’t cared as long as I had those two weeks, but I don’t even want those two weeks anymore. I don’t want this.”

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Author\'s Note: This took longer than expected, I couldn\'t get it right. The next update may take longer. It\'s not really as long as I like my chapters to be and I\'m stuck in an area that just isn\'t working for me. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed. Read and review...again. I am rather fond of reviews.