He finds that he likes her eyes. From the moment she yelled at him for playing on the drums, he noticed the spark behind them. He can see the fire when she's angry or annoyed and even the passion when she's writing lyrics or creating melodies on the keys of the piano. They are always so expressive. He notices that her brown eyes grow dark when any hand besides her own nears her book and how they would sparkle when she sees jars of pickles or pints of fruity mint swirl. He likes the way they widen with excitement when they finish a song or even when she manages to get an A on a test. When she's scared, her eyes grow timid and widen in a way he knows isn't good. It's one of his least favorite, the way her eyes reflect her anxiety and it makes him feel helpless; he doesn't like feeling helpless around her. Instead, he'll grab a hold of her and try to comfort her. When she pulls back, her eyes are different and he doesn't know how to describe it, but he knows he definitely likes it more than when she's scared.
He thinks one of his favorites is when she's looking at him. Her eyes soften and the chocolate brown that he likes to look at becomes more intense than ever. Sometimes the sides crinkle if she's smiling or they remain wide in awe. He remembers when she got over her stage fright and her eyes were so bright and happy that he couldn't help but stare. He likes how her eyes look when he kisses her and a feeling of joy washes over him because he doesn't know when a girl has ever looked at him like that and it makes his heart pound. He likes how her eyes darken in a different way when he runs his tongue over her lower lip and gently nibbles on it. Her eyes are lidded most of the time, but when he catches them when they're open he can't help but get aroused. When he goes down on her and licks her long and slow, he likes to look up. Because chances are she's watching him and her cheeks are pink from arousal and they're overwhelmed. He looks at her when he thrusts into her. Her eyes are the darkest he's ever seen them then and it makes him go faster, harder to try and please her. She looks at him for a long time when he does before she reaches her arms up around his neck and kisses him. When she pulls back, her eyes turn bright and it's weird because they're dark at the same time but it makes his heart go faster and his head dizzy with love. That's probably one of the first things he notices about her. The way her eyes react to everything around them and how quickly he falls in love with them.
He finds that he likes her hair. It's changed throughout the years, going from dark brown to chestnut with amber highlights and even lighter. He doesn't know how to describe it right now, but he knows he likes it. When he pulls her into a hug, his hands get tangled up in her hair. The tips are wrapped around his fingers and he marvels at how soft it is. He knows she used to chew the ends and he knows she does trim her hair, but he never expected for it to be that soft. When she's asleep and her head is in her lap, he likes to run his hands in her hair. He likes taking strands and twisting it around his fingers. He uses his hands to brush through her brown locks and he's addicted to the feeling it gives him. If he could, he would have his hands in her hair all the time. Her hair always looks amazing but he's not sure if he likes it up. Maybe he does because it gives him a chance to undo the clip or elastic that's holding it in place, allowing the hair to cascade down her back in glorious waves. She looks amazing regardless, but it looks best when it's just been let down. He notices his heart pick up speed and he tends to fumble over his words here and there. He likes to think that in a few years, if they're still around one another, he would get to see her in the mornings. With her hair pulled back at the start of the day and he'll be able to let it down at night. Yeah, that sounds about right.
He finds that he likes the way their names sound together. From the moment he found out he couldn't help but marvel at the way it dances off his tongue. Austin and Ally, like milk and a cowie. It's kind of ridiculous how much he likes her name. He found it pretty annoying in the beginning, but maybe that was because of how she acted towards him at first. Yeah he knows he shouldn't have stolen her song, but it really was an accident. After that, he kind of spent almost all his time with her. Well, mostly with all four of them together at first but they were together a lot. They sort of became a package deal. If there was a new song, it was written by Austin and Ally. If he was spotted outside, it was always with Ally. Even magazine articles had their names together. Austin Moon and Ally Dawson, because she is the sun, the brightest point of his entire life and he is nothing without her, because the moon couldn't shine without the light of the sun. Much like how there was no way he could ever make it without her.
He finds that he likes the way they fit together. She's so small, so tiny that his hand practically covers her stomach. He's a head taller and he always has been. Even when she's wearing heels or boots, she barely even reaches his chin and he likes that. Sometimes he gets bored and he'll walk up behind her, resting his head on top of hers. She'll giggle and turn around, her head tilting up so their eyes meet and she'll wrap her arms around him, pulling him close. His arms surround her and he feels her grip tighten. His hands intertwine with her hair, the soft locks twirling around his fingers. When they're sitting together, her head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck. Sometimes she'll turn her head slightly and her lips will meet his pulse, just lightly feathering over it. He likes how his body curves around hers, like when they're lying in bed with his arm around her waist. His hands are so much bigger than her's, but he marvels at how they interlock and it works.
He wonders if she notices it too. The way his blond hair matches her brunette locks or the way her ability to write the most incredible songs matches his ability to perform. Of course, over the years she's learned to perform and she's amazing at it. When he gets the chance to sing with her, he gets a little star struck. Just being around her makes everything better. When he's on stage, he gets the most incredible feeling in the world, like fireworks shooting off of his chest, and he feels that way when he's with her too. She's the most important person in his life and the fact that it seems as though they're made for each other makes it even better.
He finds that he likes her voice. He likes when she's singing the song they're writing on the piano over even just humming the melody to a random tune that came to her earlier in the day. He likes when she's on stage and the spotlight is shining on her, just her, and she's holding the mic close to her lips. The lyrics come pouring out and he's in a trance from watching just how amazing she is on stage. He thinks he likes it best when he's holding her in his arms and kissing her. His tongue is against her lower lip and she opens her mouth to groan. Their tongues meet and he deepens the kiss, only to find that it makes her voice come out even more. When he moves down to pepper her jaw and neck with kisses, she can't suppress the whimpers. When he moves to kiss the top of her breasts, she can't keep the moan that forms in her throat from coming out. It's intoxicating, the most addicting drug in the world and he wants more of it each and every day.
He finds that he likes the way she feels. Her skin is so soft it drives him insane when a sliver of it is revealed as her hands are raised. When they come into contact, he feels sparks and tingles that he's never felt with anyone before. He especially notices it when they're playing the piano and their hands touch. It gives him a feeling that no one in the world, not even his past girlfriends, have ever given him. He likes how smooth her cheeks are and he can't help but brush his nose against it before planting kisses. When he kisses her long enough and his hands roam her body for what seems like endless hours, her skin starts to get goosebumps and she shivers. He loves when she does under his touch. When he strips her of her clothing and she's lying on his bed, her hair spilled over the sheets and her eyes dark with arousal, he touches her. Slowly and softly, his fingers gracing the softness of her delicate, flushed skin and he makes sure to brush over every part. Because if she claims that he's the world than she's the entire galaxy with every planet and star all wrapped up inside of her, including him. He looks at her like every constellation that has ever existed is on her skin because she deserves the adoration, all of it and more. He likes the way she feels when he pushes his fingers into her wet heat and finds it tightening around them, refusing to let go. He likes how slick she is when his tongue goes against her slit and how sweet and supple her lips are when he kisses her again. The way she wraps around him when his dick is inside of her is so addicting he couldn't believe that he went on for so long before ever experiencing it. When he thrusts in and out, he slides his hands over her body, feeling the slight slickness from the sweat and his lips are everywhere. She tastes like salt and sweetness and Ally. He's overwhelmed by the sensation of her and when she cums he's so aware of her. Her body. Her voice. He pulls out and already he misses the feeling of her. She grabs ahold of him, pulling him towards her and onto the bed. He wraps his arms around her, his hand resting on top the small of her back and he realizes just how much he loves the girl that yelled at him for playing the drums with corndogs and how he wouldn't have it any other way.
He hears the crinkle of paper and looks back to the prompt of the essay he's supposed to be writing and realizes he got a little carried away when he was trying to organize his thoughts. Because he started describing her in so many different ways. The way her eyes looked. The way her name sounded. The way her body was made for his and the beauty of her voice. When he thinks about her skin and the way it feels, he realizes he's a little off topic. Because the paper asks for him to describe his home and he realizes that his teacher expects to hear about a place, but he doesn't care. He picks up his pencil and begins to write, describing his home the only way he knows how: by talking about her.