Disclaimer: I do not own Austin & Ally
Rating: T
Genre: Humor/Romance
I, apparently, have a fondness for writing cliched stories now. Great.
I know my transitions are a little rough, but in my defense, I wrote this after midnight. Whatever 'this' is, of course...
If he's being honest, Austin has no right to be upset.
Their breakup was mutual, and he had moved on not long afterward. She did too, only he hasn't had a long-term relationship, while she's getting married today.
He 'accidentally' overheard Dez asking Trish to the wedding (the Latina reluctantly accepted, but he was already zoned out). She's only twenty-one, and his excuse is that she's too young to be married.
(But, deep down, he knows that if they were still together, they would have been married as soon as they hit eighteen.)
His friends tried to hide it from him when he confronted them about it, but when he said that he overheard them, they exchanged terrified glances before making up some excuse and running off- probably to go tell the soon-to-be bride.
That was two days ago. The wedding is today.
He's been holed up in his apartment all day, turning down whatever visitors he receives. He's way too sulky to talk to anyone right now.
Like he said, he has no right to be upset, but he is. Admittedly, Austin doesn't think that he (that stupid brown-haired idiot) is right for her.
(He's also not saying that he himself is right for her, but he's not denying it either...)
He glares out the window, obviously angry.
He just doesn't get it! What's so great about the 'cell phone accessory cart guy'? He's not good enough to marry! Hell, he probably can't even support her!
Austin would treat her like a queen. He would treat her like how he used to: buying her gifts when he was almost flat broke, taking her out to her favorite restaurants, and talking with her about anything and everything.
Those times feel like a lifetime ago. Since they stopped seeing each other, his life has gone by slowly because there's no one there to speed his heart up and send an exhilarating thrill through him. He wishes for those times now, as time ticks by at an excruciatingly slow pace.
He jumps to his feet and starts walking back and forth out of agitation. No, he can't let her do this. She can't walk down that aisle and marry that stupid guy that can't even say 'library' right.
Dammit. Where the hell are his keys when he needs them?
He groans and then shakes his head, abandoning the practical choice of searching for his car keys to get to the church faster. Austin managed to weasel the information about the service out of Dez, so he checks his watch, gauging the amount of time he has to get to her.
Forty-five minutes. Perfect.
There is a reason why he was the star of his track team, after all.
He runs to the church in fifteen minutes, which means he has half an hour to figure out which church room she's using to get ready and to confront her. He slips into the church unnoticed and resists the urge to laugh at all of the women dressed up in puffy dresses and huge hats.
He sneaks down a hall and anxiously looks around for some sort of sign that one of these rooms is hers. There is none.
Until, that is, Trish exits a room, saying, "I'll be right back." She turns in the direction opposite of his and walks away, disappearing around a corner.
He instinctively knows that the room Trish left is the room he's looking for. He cautiously creeps up to the door and knocks.
He hears a laugh on the other side that sounds achingly familiar. A laugh that he's missed.
"Trish, are you back-" The words suddenly die in her throat as she takes in the tall blonde standing before her, inappropriately dressed for an occasion such as this. All he's wearing is a grey V-neck, ripped jeans, and scuffed black high tops.
He looks up from staring down at his feet, his hazel eyes mysteriously glinting with some unknown emotion.
She looks almost the same. She's the same height, but her hair seems longer and is currently in some sort of fancy bun that looks impossible to make. Her caramel doe eyes are wide with shock, and her hand slowly drops from the doorknob to her side.
"Austin?"
He gives her his infamous crooked smile. "Hey, Alls. Been a while."
Allyson Annabelle Dawson only stares at him in disbelief, as if she can't quite grasp the fact that he's standing right in front of her. Austin Monica Moon, the boy she dated when she was seventeen, is standing right in front of her with that same stupidly cute crooked smile he always used to give her.
The blonde smirks and rolls his eyes, sidestepping her to get into the room. "Guess you won't be moving for a few minutes."
Ally whirls around on her heel, her eyes now filled with irritation. "Hey!"
He snickers as she shuts the door. It's almost as if four years hasn't passed since they've last seen each other.
"What? You weren't moving! You looked like this." And then he melodramatically makes his eyes go wide with fake shock, mimics dropping his hand from an imaginary doorknob to his side, and then opens his mouth, gaping at some invisible sight.
He looks absolutely ridiculous, which, of course, makes her laugh.
"Austin!" She cries, her face now red from laughter, trying to shield her eyes from his utter ridiculousness. "Stop it!"
He does as he's told, grinning widely. "Ha, I made you laugh! I've still got it," he jokes, booping her on the nose. She rolls her eyes at that as her cheeks slowly return to their normal pale color.
"Don't 'boop' my nose," she says, flatly. And then they exchange a glance and burst out laughing at the memory of the first time he did that.
He shakes his head, still laughing. "We were a good match."
She nods in agreement, her happiness subsiding a bit as she remembers their past. "A perfect match," she repeats, looking at him. He shrugs, smiling a bit.
"I still think we are."
She sighs, finally deciding to bring up the question that's been bothering her since he's arrived. "Why are you here, Austin?"
His smile drops when she asks him that, and he suddenly falls silent, staring at her blankly like he can't process what she just said. He should be able to, though; after all, he's the one that came to her.
Finally, he blinks, slowly answering, "You're getting married."
Her mouth twists into a frown. "And?" She prompts. "We broke up a long time ago."
He looks down as all of his resolve and determination desert him. He knew that this would happen, but he still had to try... The least he can do is make some kind of effort.
He clears his throat, looking back up at her with as much determination as he can muster. "I don't think he's right for you," he replies, simply.
She falters, not expecting that. She's heard it before, but she didn't expect hearing it from Austin, who happens to be her ex. Is this why he's here? To stop the wedding? Secretly, a part of her hopes so, but the other part of her fills with dread at the thought. She can't back out now and leave with him; she'll look like a slut!
So she shakes her head and says, stubbornly, as if she's trying to convince herself and not him, "Yes, he is."
He sighs, walking forward and placing his hands on her slim shoulders. She stares up at him with those oh-so-familiar doe eyes, and he thinks his heart is melting just like how it used to when she gave him that exact same look. "No, he's not. I won't say that I'm the right guy, but I still believe that we're a good match: a perfect one."
Hardly daring to breathe, she whispers, "It sounds like you're saying that you are the right guy."
He chuckles a bit, still staring at her. "It does, doesn't it?"
Slowly, she nods, never breaking eye contact with him. Her heart is pounding wildly in her chest, and she feels like she's a teenager again, sharing the stage with Austin for the second time.
It's exhilarating.
He lets go of her shoulders, and she blinks as he steps back, unsure of whether to be relieved or disappointed. He shoves his hands in his jean pockets and lets out a deep breath, gazing out the window distractedly.
Suddenly, he says, "Well, I'll let you decide. I'll wait outside of the church, and if I hear the wedding march, then I'll know that you picked-" here, he resists the urge to cringe, "-Dallas. If I see you come out in regular clothes, then I'll know you picked me."
It sounds so simple. But it's so damn complicated.
Faintly, she asks, "Will you be able to hear the march?"
He shrugs, dismissively. "My ears are attuned to music. I think I'll be able to hear it." And with that, he opens the window and leaps outside, sprinting away.
She walks over to the window and looks out wistfully, watching him sprint away.
The scene looks like a princess wishing for her prince to come back.
But this isn't a fairy tale, and she has to pick who she wants to be with: Austin or Dallas?
She turns back to the interior of the room, smiling slightly. Well, that's kind of a no-brainer...
Austin sighs.
If he were to say that he isn't nervous, he would be lying. In fact, it would be more accurate to call him a train wreck.
His hair is even more disheveled than usual due to his habit of running his fingers through his hair when he's agitated; the edges of his shirt are wrinkled because of the many times he's twisted them; and lastly, people are giving him strange looks because he's hitting his forehead against the side of the church building, groaning. His life is just one big mess, isn't it?
When he's in the middle of twisting the edge of his shirt again, he hears the distinct sound of the wedding march. His heart breaks right then and there, and he feels a lump of disappointment form in his throat. Tears sting his eyes, but he tries to wipe them away. They haven't been a couple for years; why would she take him back now?
He's about to turn around and start what now seems like a long walk back home when a voice accuses, playfully, "Are you leaving without me?"
His eyes widen, and he whips around, shocked.
Ally's standing there against the side of the building, just a few feet behind him. She's wearing a red shirt and black skinny jeans paired with black sneakers, and a mischievous smile is tugging on her lips. "What? You really thought that I was going to pick him over you?" She laughs, shaking her head. "Austin, just because we agreed to breakup, doesn't mean that I stopped loving you when we did. I just thought that it wasn't the right time."
Thoughtfully, she absently tacks on, "Now, though... Now might be right."
He can't believe his ears. She actually picked him.
She picked him.
"Why..." He swallows difficultly. "Why'd you pick me?" He asks, still shocked that she's out here and not in there. He could have sworn that he heard the wedding march...
She shrugs lightly, giving him a full-blown smile. "Because it's me, and it's you. I know we're not the same-"
"-but we do what we do," he finishes as his shock subsides. He grins at her.
Her smile widens. "And what I want to do is take you back. But, uh, we should go; I have a lot of explaining to do," her smile grows impossibly wide, "but I think I'll save that for later."
He can't help himself; he runs toward her and picks her up, spinning her around. She giggles but is soon silenced by his lips suddenly connecting with hers.
It feels natural to be kissing him again, and so she runs her fingers through his hair, making it even messier. Not that either of them care, of course.
They pull away after a few seconds, and he smiles at her. "Ready to go?"
She beams. "I've never been more ready."
He chuckles and, still carrying her, starts walking back to his apartment. As he walks, she begins telling him why she agreed to marry Dallas in the first place.
"I know that I had a crush on him, but I'd long gotten over it when he first asked me out. The only reason why I said yes was to be polite. But then he kept taking me out, and I couldn't bring myself to say no. When he proposed, I had to tell him I'd think about it, but all I wanted to do was say no. Trish and Dez were always encouraging me to break things off with him, but even their constant nagging couldn't give me enough courage to say no.
"As it turns out, I ended up saying yes, but only because his mom came to me and told me all about how he would go on and on about me to her, saying how much he loved-"
Austin snorts. "He still lives with his mom?"
She rolls her eyes, amused. "No, he didn't, but he would visit her often. Now, as I was saying, he was always telling her about me and saying how much he loved me. I felt terrible for leading him on, and I said yes to try to make up for my wrong. And that's how I got here." She looks down, embarrassed. "Oh, God, he'll be so upset."
He shakes his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you were willing to commit yourself to him to correct your wrong."
She moans, burying her face in his neck. "I'm awful, aren't I?"
He rolls his eyes. It's just like her to be upset over something like this. "No, you're not. And, for the record, I don't think that he'll be having any problems with moving on. I saw him flirting with Cassidy on my way out of the church; made me want to throw up." He scrunches up his nose at the memory, wishing that he could just erase it. What kind of groom flirts with another woman on his wedding day?
He realizes that maybe this could hurt her feelings, since she didn't exactly say that she completely dislikes him. He's about to apologize when her head suddenly retracts so that she can look up at him.
"Really?" She asks, her eyes shining with hope. "You mean... Maybe he won't be totally heartbroken?"
Guess she does completely dislike him.
He chuckles. "Yeah, I would think so."
She smiles. "That's good. At least I don't have to feel so bad."
He laughs.
Later that day, she crawls into bed next to him, still in her clothes from earlier. His eyes sleepily flicker open, and she whispers, "Sorry. I couldn't sleep on the couch." And then she cuddles up next to him, tucking her head underneath his chin. He chuckles and wraps his arms around her.
So what if today was supposed to be her wedding day? So what if he virtually much crashed a wedding?
They've never stopped loving each other, and they never will.
So, they end this eventful day with a kiss and a promise.
"I promise that I'll love you through anything."
It kind of sounds like a wedding vow.