Disclaimer: All characters belong to Rae Earl and E4. Again, I certainly hope you know what song the title is taken from.

Thanks again to orangeisthenewblue on tumblr for prompting this.

Finn wandered around Rae's room as she finished getting ready in the bathroom. He looked at her posters and photos, smiling at the Polaroids of them and their friends, and flipped through the pages of some books sitting on her desk—he'd have to tease her about the trashy romance novels, just to see her face heat up. Beneath the paperbacks and other detritus was a red notebook with her name scrawled on the front. Her diary.

He knew, with every part of himself, that reading it was not an option. Even if it had been lying open, reading it would have been inexcusable. It was her diary, her personal record of her thoughts; there had to be a reason she wrote in a diary rather than talking about things with anybody else. There was no way he could invade her privacy. It would destroy their relationship when she found out, and he had no doubt that she would find out.

But there were his fingers, trailing across the letters on the cover. He shouldn't even have been touching it; she could walk back in at any moment and think the worst. As much as he knew he couldn't open it, as much as reading it seemed a physical impossibility, he wanted to. Curiosity coursed through his brain—what did she say about their friends? About him?

About all those other men she'd fantasised about?

Who were they? What did they do to her? What did they say to make her blush, make her knees weak, make her gasp, surprised but oh so willing? How did they kiss her, touch her? How did she sound when she sighed their names? He stepped back, snatching his hand away from the notebook as if it had burned him.

He'd never thought of himself as the jealous type, but the idea of another bloke touching Rae like that had him vibrating. He knew he was being stupid. He knew he wasn't imagining the way she looked at him when they were all alone, or the smile in her voice when their calls stretched late into the night. She'd chosen him. There was no need to feel jealous when he was the one who got to be with her.

But…would she always choose him? If Damon Albarn showed up in Stamford and offered to take her away on tour, would she do it? If Archie realised what a mistake he'd made and tried to win her back properly, would she accept him? Or would she stay with her thick, boring boyfriend, who couldn't even form a complete sentence to confess his feelings?

"Sorry it's taking so long. I hate my hair some days," Rae grumbled. She stopped in the doorway when she saw him standing in the middle of her room, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Finn? Are you alright?"

He looked up in time to see her eyes dart to the diary on her desk. He shook himself out of his stupor. "I'd never do that," he swore. "You know I never would."

She crossed the room and picked up the diary, opening it with a fond expression. "Most of the stuff about me is just embarrassing," she said. "About, like, how angry I get with my mum, or how much I fancy you. Or how I felt about other things that happened." Her smile slipped away. "All that's bad enough. But it's also got secrets I have to keep for other people. Things it's not my right to tell. If it was only me and my own thoughts, I'd—I might let you read it, but so much of it's not mine and I can't. I'm sorry." When she looked up at him her eyes were big and wet-looking.

Suddenly his petty jealousy seemed much less important than it had a few minutes ago. Finn felt slightly panicked at the thought of making her cry. "Rae, I don't care. That's not—you can tell me whatever you want, whenever you want. You don't have to tell me anything—I want you to, but if you don't want to—shit." He was messing it all up, as usual, but she had a watery half-smile on her face. He took a steadying breath and tried again, gesturing at the journal.

"I'm not saying not to write in your diary when your mum is annoying you or I'm being a twat. But you can talk to us, too, if you want. Especially me. I mightn't be good at talking, but I think I'm not a bad listener."

She smiled a little wider and sniffled, "You're not, not at all."

He took a step toward her, intending to wrap his arms around her, but stopped short. "Er, can I hug you now?"

To his relief Rae laughed and nodded. He closed the space between them and held her tight; she tucked her face into his neck, her breath warm against his skin, and he pressed a kiss into her hair. He couldn't be sure what she was feeling, but there was one thing still bothering him. So he asked into her ear, "But you don't still think about other men, do you?"

Rae pulled back, incredulity on her face, and he looked up at her shyly, going red. When she finally smiled it was like the sun coming out after a storm. "Why would I want anybody but you, you muppet?" she huffed, and proved it with her kiss.