three
Summary: If it was just one night of fading stars and loud music, with him—she'd do it all over again. Because alcoholic breaths and lungs filled with nicotine never did stop those close touches and almost kisses – and neither did his girlfriend. (three-parter, auslly)
Prompt: I went to a house party one Friday night and my God was it different from the world I'm so used to. None of these things happened, but the atmosphere really did inspire a lot of it.
A/N: This was supposed to be a one-shot, you know—I had no plot I just wanted to write a fanfiction and then post it up. But as I went on writing this, the plot literally took a 360 turn to wherever it's going and I'm like screw it—Ally needs her happy ending. So it's a three-parter. Enjoy this mess and if you can, drop a review and make someone's day :D
Disclaimer: Don't own anything at all :)
catalyst;
She likes looking at things from a distance. Friends, she never really had any – just a few acquaintances and hellos and goodbyes down the hallways. Guys she liked, she'd never really gotten close to them – only watching from afar and admiring those beautiful smiles and gleaming eyes. But somehow, he's different.
Never really saw herself falling for a guy like him – the guy on the other side with all the girls and the lifestyle that would put Jay Gatsby to shame – Ally questions what it was about the way they touched that had such a paralytic effect on her. Yes, of course—his smile is the best thing to ever happen in the world of mankind – everybody knows that – and his eyes are just as charming as everyone says. But, is that all it really took for her to crush on him for two years? Definitely not.
They're friends – she supposes – but being close to him, every single day of her life—it's a little overwhelming. And sometimes, being too close to him, burns her skin and it's a little bit confusing – and somehow—it's addicting. And every now and then, she needs a little more than just a brush of the hand, and accidental bumps across the hallway.
She doesn't know when it started. Maybe it was the way his gentleman hands led her out of a growing crowd amongst the lockers, or the small side hug they shared when she did something nice for him. She can't pinpoint the exact moment his touches became vital to her very existence. But if there ever is a time moments like those echoed her lusty desire for him, it would be that Friday night.
If it was just one night of fading stars and loud music, with him—she'd do it all over again. Because alcoholic breaths and lungs filled with nicotine never did stop those close touches and almost kisses – and neither did his girlfriend. Who was she to blame if she was out of it, and they couldn't control their hands, their lips, and the electricity that shot through their veins?
It's Friday night and the year starts off with a house party of spilled drinks and smoking weed. Tangled with classmates influenced by the addiction to all the Vodka in the world, she finds herself sitting at the very corner of the living room, Salute by Little Mix blasting loud against the speakers. She sees him all bright smiles and shining eyes, the most beautiful boy in the whole entire room. There's a bottle of cool Iced Smirnoff in one hand, and her phone on the other. She thinks she'll get through the night of him and his girlfriend acting like girlfriends and boyfriends, if she has the placebo to forget.
She's not a lightweight—she damn well knows that. On the day of her eighteenth birthday, she went wild and it took her six shots of strong tequila to have the room spinning and her walking in circles. But for some reason, right now, just one sip of the Smirnoff is getting her high. Maybe it's the hunger that festers within her, or the fact Elliot Carson was the in charge bartender for the night and he may or may not have spiked her drink with strong liquor. She doesn't know which one is it, but one thing she's sure of is, the room is swaying and she wants to laugh and cry for no goddamn reason at all.
"Is Ally drunk?"
Someone comments, but all there is to it is white noise and blurry faces—and she giggles. Somehow, everyone is surrounding her, amused smiles and grinning eyes, enjoying her out of it state. And he's there with dilated eyes of surprise and a small smirk curved up his lips. She wants to touch him but she resists – because drunk or not, she's not stupid.
"Hey, are you okay?"
A blonde girl sits beside her, a sweet smile on and lovely brown eyes. She pats Ally's knees, tidbits of concern laced through her tone as she tries to snap Ally out of her small daze.
"Do you need anything?"
"Um..."
"Do you need water?"
"How do you stop being drunk?"
Ally slurs a little, stars clouding her vision, and Austin tipped at the corner of her eye.
"You need water, I'll get you one."
"Thank you, Piper?"
"Don't worry about it."
She's left on the couch again, by herself, confused and slipping from sobriety. The closest to friends she has, Desmond Wade and Patricia dela Rosa, all came up and surrounded her again, clicking their fingers and calling her name. She smiles lazily at them and snapshots of her drunken state is recorded on their phones. He's coming her way, a soft grin on and hands in his pocket.
"Hey, is she drunk?"
"Obviously."
"It's not even nine o'clock."
"She's a lightweight."
"I'm not a lightweight!"
He turns to her, and in her hazy mind, she sees the smile on his face grow softer. She can't see his eyes widen or his eyebrows raise, but she feels him tap her shoulder, and sit beside her, a phone in hand. She doesn't know what's going on, but there's only two people right now in her world and that's him and her.
"Let's take this one."
It was all a little too fast. One moment she's sitting with him, questioning his motives as he leans in closer, and next thing she knows he's taking pictures of them two and posting them up on whatever social media site he's finding an obsession to. He smiles and leaves before she can question him, and his girlfriend, beautiful and blonde Piper, comes in with a bottle of water to help sober her up.
Everyone's being so nice to her. She doesn't know if it's anything to do with the fact that they're curious people and she's Alyssa May Dawson, the golden girl of Citadini High, getting drunk to her ass on a Friday night, or that they're just genuinely concerned. She reckons it's the former but she hardly has time to care when everything she sees is all in a kaleidoscopic distortion, and it doesn't help at all that the music is the psychedelic Heart Out by The 1975.
"Ally!"
Strawberry blonde with fierce blue eyes, Cassidy Mitchell comes her way, a sly smile on and whispering red lips. Her irises blink in a suspicious charm, and she settles herself beside Ally, coming closer to her with manicured nails and temptation in the words she spoke.
"Austin Moon just told me to, please take care of Ally—she's really drunk."
Ally would've gasped. In fact, she would've extremely cared. But her mind is in so much of a daze that the lines are blurred and the only thing she hears is his name.
"What about Austin?"
Cassidy leaves it at that. She doesn't say anything more – just that question hanging through the air and lingering in Ally's beating heart. And before she knows it, she sees him coming her way again. Except, he sits down on the other side of the couch, beer in hand, and eyes that barely glances her way. But she's half brave enough – because alcohol has it's side effects and confidence was it's most dangerous one of all.
"Hey Austin."
She's chirps, and he turns to look at her, with interest in his eyes.
"What did you drink?"
"Okay, listen to me—I'm not a lightweight."
"What did you—"
"They tell you I'm a lightweight but I'm not a lightweight."
"What'd you drink, Ally?"
She gets shivers when he says her name; the way it rolls out of his tongue is sweet and sugary, she might just sickeningly fall in love with it. She still doesn't get it – the question. But she talks anyway because the moment's all she has and on Monday morning, she won't have the power to ever talk to him like this again.
"Smirnoff Ice, and Vodka."
"How many?"
"I think Elliot mixed two for me."
He chuckles under the yellow lights of the living room, something dazzling in the tinkle of his laughter that warms Ally's heart. She's so happy to be right here with him, because she knows – somewhere along the intoxicated dust of her mind – this will be the only chance she'll ever get. It's senior year and God knows the ticking time she has left and she will never forgive herself if she just let him pass her by.
But plans don't go very well – it's not like she ever had it all planned out anyway – and he's being taken away by his stupid friends. He doesn't even take a look back to see her one last time, and she thinks her heart drops but the alcohol made it so hard to care. He's probably with stupid Piper anyway with her blonde hair and sweet smile and stupid nice personality—no wonder he fucking fell in love with her.
The night fades into something more chaotic and she's up in the host's bedroom, trying to sober up – because spinning walls and almost falling down the stairs was never part of her plan and she thinks it's time to stop. She's already accidentally walked in on Piper and Austin making out and she doesn't know how much more the pounding of her head can take.
She sits on the bed, melancholy seeping through her chest and that skin tight dress she wore. There's something sad about the raving music thumping downstairs and her laying down alone this large bed made for two. She doesn't hear the click the door makes, nor does she notice the boy that walks in with his stupid maroon and white baseball shirt and blonde hair and brown eyes and damn everything.
"Hey."
She sits up in surprise and nearly falls off the bed upon seeing him.
"Hi."
"You okay now?"
"I'm getting there."
"That's good."
He smiles awkwardly and her head is screaming—why the fuck are you right here?! She doesn't know what to do, so she just looks down on her painted nails of yellow and black. It's that awkward silence that's louder than the sounds their breaths make but feelings—for her—are going haywire all over the place and she doesn't know whether it's the oncoming hangover or the leftover alcohol that's making her crave for the poison of his touch.
She doesn't notice him inching closer, but she does feel it when their fingertips touch. She thinks it's extremely ironic that the DJ decides to play a slow song right now because—man would it be perfect for this moment. But there was never anything romantic about Ben Howard's Only Love – because the song is all about lust—if it's anything at all to her.
"I love this song."
She speaks from the back of her throat, a scratch in his voice that she can't tell turns him on. He moves in closer and it gets to the point the only thing left between them is the thin duvet that they let fall to the ground. And it's that searing kiss of the night that she remembers the most.
Guilt was never her friend—until now. She doesn't feel sorry at all that she's on a bed with her back against the wall, and his fingers roaming freely against her soft skin – even when she knows he's got a girlfriend waiting for him downstairs. All she thinks of is how great the gin on his tongue tasted and how much closer they should get.
She barely cares if for right now she's just a toy—he can use and throw her until she breaks, but she'll never give a fuck, ever—because she's enjoying the benefits of it all. And the good girl image is nothing more than a mirage of the past three years of high school. Because here she was with Austin Moon shamelessly kissing every inch of her neck, and the fluff of his hair feels good against the tips of her fingers—and for that moment, it was the only thing she's ever done right in her entire life.
When they breakaway, he only has one thing to say.
"Not so shy after all, Dawson."
He leaves it at that. And she doesn't know where else to go or what else to do. Because God, did that kiss sober her up to the point—she actually remembers Austin Moon is not single. She wants to cry and pull out all her hair but it's hopeless. The deed is done and she never wanted to be a homewrecker—but she is.
A/N: I know, horrible. Cheating and all that, could be a very sensitive topic for many people, so I apologize about that. I'm not suggesting things like cheating is ever okay—right. I'm just being realistic; realistic in the sense that I know that there's more than just one way a cheated relationship ends up – this is just one of those least common ways. ANYWAY, I won't go on anymore, less I spoil it for you. I know what you're thinking—you probably think you know how this story will go. Well, think again. Anyway, see you next update – I promise it won't be long. It's Halloween break, you do the math. Goodnight – even though it's still blue skies and I'm in class whilst I write this, goodnight anyway. Btw, not beta'd and yes you can get drunk on chugging down Smirnoff Ice—I've seen it happen.