A/N: Hey guys! I am so glad you guys liked my other story, so here's another one-shot, this one is shorter. I might turn it into a two-shot if you guys would want me too.
Ally lies on Austin's bed and stares ahead at the empty room. The walls which once held countless pictures, posters and other odd bits collected over teenage years are now bare, and the blue colour shines as the morning sunlight reflects off it, almost making Ally wince.
Ally doesn't think she's seen the floor in all the years she's known Austin, but now it's bare, free of dirty clothes and comic books, and she can see the light brown carpet, which usually lurks beneath the mess, clearly. The wardrobe's empty, save for the old tux Austin wore to prom, charcoal and strawberry smelling, but it still made Austin look handsome Ally remembers.
The desk is also empty, no longer home to forgotten soda cans and random note pads filled with un-useful lyrics, stray pens and pencils and even the odd action figure. There's a dust mark in the shape of the photo frame which stood there not so long ago encasing a picture of herself and Austin last summer, sitting and laughing in the twilight of the sun, bare arms touching.
Ally sighs and clutches Austin's t-shirt, inhaling the scent as his heart beat lulls beneath Ally's ear, soft and calming. Outside the birds chirp and sing happily in the sunlight and Ally hates them because today, of all days, is no happy day. Today is the worst day of Ally's life. All eighteen years of it.
Austin's leaving her. Well, not in the traditional sense of the term, but he's still leaving. And, as much as she hates the idea, she wants him to go. The music school in New York is calling Austin's name and they can both hear it. He's far too intelligent for this place, far too talented for Miami. Ally knows this, everything Austin has, everything he is would be wasted if he stayed. So Ally inhales again.
"I'm not dying y'know," Austin whispers softly from above, a smile tugging at his lips. Ally looks up to show she's heard him, but with no intention of replying. Two months isn t that long, and Ally glares at him then because they both know that really, it kind of is. Austin sighs, defeated, and holds Ally closer.
"Promise me," Ally starts after a few quiet minutes, her voice low and desperate. "Promise me that in two months time, you'll still love me." Austin pulls a face and goes to protest but Ally stops him with a firm press of his fingertips against Austin's lips. "I know we talked about this a lot, for hours, but I just need to hear it one more time. So promise me, when you're having coffee and discussing your song lyrics with some beret wearing foreign exchange student called Philleep, or whatever, you ll think of your silly dorky girlfriend back home and that you'll still love me."
There are a million and one things Austin could argue with, mostly that there is no way he'd write songs with another person it's all pretty obvious, he opens his mouth to speak but he doesn t. Instead he slides his hand around Ally's face and kisses her, slow and deep until Ally's forgotten how to breathe. And, when she s remembering -suck air in, push air out- Austin whispers, "I promise."
And he keeps it. Every second of it.