Red Dress
The many times Austin admired her from afar, and the one time he just couldn't take it anymore. / AustinAlly. Oneshot, may become a twoshot; fluffy snippets. For polkadotty.
A/N: Here's a short oneshot that polkadotty requested. Many thanks for your support and kind words—and what an appropriate prompt you gave me, haha. I honestly don't know if you'll like this… but it's for you! Enjoy.
:::
"Don't you think her skirt's a bit on the short side?"
He grumbles it nonchalantly, partially hoping that his comment will go unnoticed. Instead, Trish whirls around and says in a low tone, "Maybe it's just your imagination." She gives him a knowing, teasing smirk and gestures vaguely in the direction of Ally's legs.
But he refuses to come across as even slightly materialistic. He is not motivated by a smoothly sculpted lower body—it doesn't hurt, but frankly he's drawn to her raw intelligence and that she does, in fact, have moral standards that she adheres to.
Then he sees some mediocrely attractive member of the male species sidle up to her, and he figures it's time to mark his territory. Ally isn't property, and he's not about to let some inferior guy take her away from him.
He refuses to be labeled as materialistic, but sometimes he wishes she were his.
:::
It takes every ounce of his admittedly limited self-control, but he reasons himself out of it.
Now is not the right time to grab her hand, even if he were to do it subtly. She's wearing red because—and she'll never say this—Trish hinted that he'd like it on her. All he can mentally process, however, is that Ally is wearing red and that Ally looks good in red. Ally, therefore, looks very, very pretty. That's a given.
And if he were to crack a math joke now and say he was using the transitive property to equate Ally looking good and Ally wearing red, she'd probably appreciate it.
But being the hormonal teenage boy he is, he chickens out.
Again, that's a given.
:::
"Two lovebirds in their natural habitat," narrates Dez. "The male bird seems to be plucking up the courage to engage in a courting ritual with the female bird."
Said male bird is torn between high-fiving Dez and strangling him. After all, that "plucking" bit was quite a well-structured pun. Less appealingly, it had been conceived primarily to annoy.
Yeah, Ally was undoubtedly rubbing off on him. His vocabulary had expanded twofold in the past few weeks, and that wasn't counting the copious amounts of time she spent practicing the piano these days.
:::
She's wearing another red dress, and he is physically incapable of keeping his eyes on her face. It is perfectly healthy, he assures himself, for adolescents to become exceptionally receptive to romantic bouts. It is decidedly not healthy, however, for suppressed youths to go for months without expressing their feelings.
Release—and don't take that suggestively.
Release; in the sense that a figurative dam is steadily and stubbornly blotting out the natural flow of his attraction, and that it's only a matter of moments before the dam finally overflows and floods its gates. Release; in the sense that to him, she is beautiful in every way possible, and that he doesn't give a damn how pathetic that sounds.
He needs to show her how he feels, and now's the time.
The time is now.
:::
You can take from that what you will ;-)
Again, my sincere thanks to polkadotty—this is for you. Think about reviewing and putting this on your favorites list: I'm also considering writing an epilogue… yes?
