i met someone who wears your glasses
Summary: She kissed me on my new futon, and I'm clumsy because she finds me attractive — Or the one where Austin moves, and moves on – for the better. Austin/Ally. Auslly. Semi-AU.
Prompt: I was in the shower listening to I Can Lift a Car by Walk the Moon and a blast of this fanfiction idea just hit me and I thought—sure, why not?
A/N: I have no words except, my obsession for Walk the Moon, The 1975, and all other indie bands has now completely taken over my writing. It's kind of like Begin Again by Taylor Swift, but not.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything at all :)
He breaks up with Cassidy the day he finds himself moving to Miami from Chicago. She's in so much tears as they hug for the very last time, and she doesn't let go of him that easily. He thinks it's for the best because, he never really did do well in long distance relationships.
When he's unpacking his bags to his new room, he stares at the honey oak colored wall and thinks. He thinks of her strawberry blonde hair nuzzled up to his nose, and how she smells a little like cigarettes and vodka – the two most undeniably addicting drugs there ever is. He remembers her cute little nose, and how a pair of perfectly old fashioned glasses sat on top of it. She's breathtakingly beautiful and he'll never find anyone like her, ever again.
But he's in the library, borrowing books to pass his time, and sees a girl with the same old glasses. She's a short brunette that seemed like the type to wear high-waisted skirts and pastel cardigans, and he's drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
He sits in front of her, reading the cover of her book, The Snow Queen, and raises one eyebrow. She takes a sip from her paper cup that's been sitting out for a while, and pushes the bridge of her frames further up the top of her nose.
"Do you like fairy tales?" He asks, taking note of the hardback copies of Alice in Wonderland and Peter and Wendy laying a mess around her side of the table.
"Just a little." She says quietly, voice smooth like velvet – and he swears he could melt just then and there. "They're very intriguing."
"Which one of these books is your favorite?" He's casual to ask, and she doesn't seem to mind. The printer hums, and the faint blasting of her earphones fallen to her lap accompanies them.
"Peter and Wendy." She looks up from her copy of The Snow Queen, and smiles slightly at him. There's a tug at his heart but he ignores it for now. "When people look for it, they look for Peter Pan – because Disney made us believe that there's only one story and that is it. But, you see – Peter's long been there before Wendy, or any of the Darling children—in fact—came into the picture."
"That's interesting." He gives her a shy smile back, and she bats her eyelashes at him for a quick second. It looks cute and seductive all at the same time, and his heart beats faster. He's unsure of whether she did that intentionally, or not.
"The entire story of J.M. Barrie and the Llewyn Davies boys is actually quite an interesting one as well! You see—" She talks excitedly for half a second and then stops midsentence because she thinks she's boring him with all this. But he's too fond of her eyes, and her lips, and the way she gets so passionate over such petty things to even care at all. "I'm sorry; this mustn't be too exciting for you."
He doesn't even let the awkward silence slip in—nope. He jumps right in to assure her it's okay because really, he's intrigued and he wants to know everything—and like everything—she likes. Because he feels like he might just fall so hard for her, and he can't let her pass her by.
(Damn, she really could be the one to mess him up.)
When it gets late, he walks her to her favorite coffee shop, and a drizzle of rain occupies them on the wait outside. She's standing there with shimmering drops of water tangled in her hair, and the salty wind brushing past her blushing cheeks. They've got no umbrella but he didn't feel like they needed one – she didn't either.
"Who're you waiting for?" He asks silently to the passing afternoon, as darkness begins to tint the orange skies.
"My boyfriend." That sentence makes his heart drop, and he scampers away with a small excuse and no goodbye, a minute after she lets it out.
When he gets home, he calls Cassidy, and tells her he misses her. He asks about Chicago, and if the summer is treating her well. He asks if she's quit smoking, or when the last time she had a drink was. He asks if she kept his grandfather's old jacket, and if she wears it to sleep every night.
They stay up on the phone until three am, like for old time's sake. She's yawning halfway through the night but he refuses to put the phone down. When she mumbles her goodbye, he's reminded of that girl from the library with her dry eyes and bright smile. He thinks it's stupid how, they talked on for hours that day, and he hasn't even told her his name, and neither did she with him.
(He guesses it just wasn't meant to be.)
It's still summer and he strolls along the boardwalk one fine morning, with hands in his pocket, and the sun beating down on his back. He bleached his hair blonde to the point they might all fall out, but he swears he's never going brown again. There's something about the taste of Miami sand on his toes, and the light that shines through the city both day and night that's got him willing to change.
The people on the beach are playing volleyball and sucking on ice lollies, and he's watching all this go on. He hasn't made a friend yet, but he hopes to soon. That's when he met a strange red headed boy who claimed to be called Dez.
"Hi, I'm Dez!" The boy exclaims with an extended hand, and he laughs before taking it and shaking it.
"I'm Austin—Austin Moon." Austin grins wide with pearly whites that shined under the burning sunlight.
"Welcome to Miami!" Dez shouts excitedly with wide open arms, as if to behold to him the city of wonders – which it wasn't.
"Welcome indeed." Austin mutters.
His eyes drops to a figure behind Dez – a small girl with curly browns and the same old glasses Cassidy had. He feels a little sense of déjà vu before he's snapped back to reality by the red head that went on talking about an absolute pile of garbage. He nudges Austin to one side, back to the other, and spreads an arm to show to him all the wonderful things Miami can offer.
"Who's that?" The words are out before he could even think them, and Dez stops to look at where Austin's eyes lay.
"Oh! That's Ally Dawson." Dez answers with a confused frown, and his fingers rubbing his stubbly chin. "She's Miami's sweetheart—or so they like to say."
Ally Dawson sounded like such a beautiful name for such a beautiful girl, Austin would think.
He watches her, eyes trailing up and down the shimmering curves of her body, water sliding off her tempting skin. Sandy summer is tangled in her hair, and all she's got is a bikini top on, and a very revealing pair of denim shorts. The rays of sun bounces off the cream white of her bare skin, and Austin feels like he shouldn't really look down.
"She's nice and all—good grades, behaves in class, does all the nerdy stuff like read and watch clouds. But, they also say she's a vixen when it comes to guys." Dez whispers not so subtly to Austin, his red hair tickling the blonde's exposed neck as he bends down. This causes Austin to swallow hard because right then and there, his body was craving for so much absolute lust that just about anything could literally set him off.
"Vi—vixen?" His breathe is shaky as he lets out a small inaudible whimper with his question.
"Yeah." Dez tutts and shrugs, standing up straight once again. "She's got a reputation with all the boys at our school."
"What kind of reputation?" Austin's heart is beating a little too fast for his liking and he's hoping and praying to God Dez can't hear at all. Because Ally's there, and she's fanning herself, and the water stuck to her skin is glistening under the burning sun – and it's making him go a little more than crazy.
"She looks at a guy, talks to them, and for some reason—they're just drawn in to her. She doesn't even do anything – and if she does, no one's even sure if she's doing it intentionally. I don't even think she knows what she's doing. But when guys ask her out, she shoots them down just like that." Dez speaks, as a matter of factly. "It's not really her fault – well, I think so anyway. But she's been claimed as a slut for being what she is."
Austin is shocked. Because how can someone, with Ally's innocent brown eyes, and curls of the prettiest shade of brown, ever be called a slut? She's just so—innocent. Sure her vanilla smell is a little intoxicating, and maybe he does have the urge to touch her fluffy looking hair – and maybe yes, her batting eyelashes can be accused for flirting but, still. There is no way in hell pretty, innocent looking Ally Dawson – with the fetish for books, and the craving for coffee – is a slut.
"Doesn't she have a boyfriend?" Austin is careful with his tone as he eyes Ally's small and subtle movements. He doesn't want to let on that he's met Ally before, and that she drives him to the brink of insanity – but he also wants to know a little more about the pretty girl that's had him losing thoughts of Cassidy more, and more each day.
"Yeah, I guess she does." Dez' tone is lazy, and he kicks the stand beneath his hairy feet for the amusement of himself. "But I don't think he treats her right, or so I've heard."
The answer surprises Austin, and there's a clench in his stomach that makes him angry – the very thought of another man touching, and hurting the wonderful Ally Dawson sickens him and leaves his blood boiling. But he raises an eyebrow at Dez, the guy who talks as if he knew everything, without knowing anything at all.
"You sure have heard a lot of stuff." Austin gives a playful smile, trying his best to chill the warm hot anger that linger through his veins. "Any of these accurate, Dez?"
"I think so." Dez shrugs because he doesn't care. He's not attracted to Ally's innocence like Austin is, and he hasn't once fallen for the shine in her brown eyes like Austin has. "It's no big deal really."
Austin wants to protest—he really does. But he can't blow his cover, so he doesn't.
He wants to do something about it, and so he does. He visits the library again, the scared place of their meeting – and what seems like her sacred place for salvation. And when he's there, he grabs as many fairytale books as he could – he admittedly has never touched so much books in his entire life – and goes through them, reading them line by line, between the lines. He wants to see what's got her so fascinated, and he sees himself falling in love with the stories he reads.
"I see you took my word for it." There's a plop on the chair across him, and he looks up for the first time in forever from the words that has got him so enchanted, to the source of it all. Her voice is a sweet tonic that reminds him of freshly cut grass. And she sits so beautiful with her pretty hair and lovely smile. "Hello."
"H—hi." The words are stuck to his throat, a hard lump that chokes him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name last time." She smiles sweetly, like honey – not the sickeningly sugary fake smile he was so used to with everyone—she's genuine, and real.
"It's o—okay." He can't stop himself from stuttering, no matter how hard he tried. Her presence has got him all kinds of tongue tied, and he hates feeling like this – but it's warm and nice, and he feels like melted butter all at the same time.
"I'm Ally—Alyson Dawson, but I prefer Ally." She's holding out her hand for him to shake and it takes him more than a few seconds to not look at her dumbfounded, and questioning what he was supposed to do.
When he finally gets it, he's quick to whip out his hand and shake hers vigorously. He feels sparks tingle his fingertips the moment their skin met and there's a sly grin creeping up his lips that he just can't ignore. She laughs at his confusion, and there's wonder in her eyes that just catches him so much.
"Au—Austin Monica Moon." He says and he realizes too late that he's let it out that he has the middle name of a girl. His cheeks tint themselves red and she finds him quite extremely adorable as of that moment. "I mean—I'm Austin Moon—just call me Monica—I mean Austin! Call me Austin!"
More giggles erupt from her, and it sounds so feminine that he's not used to it. Because Cassidy had her walls up, and she rarely ever laughed – and when she did, it's guarded and low. This Ally Dawson girl is different—she's better.
"Okay, Austin." Her voice is teasing, and her eyes twinkle—and he's mesmerized.
"I'm—uh—I read the books, and I loved every one of them." He sounded proud, grinning wide and she laughs again. The girl who can't control her own laughter—she's quite the girl.
"Which one's your favorite?" She's smoothing her skirt as she sits across him, arms folded and chin resting on her palm. There's still amusement dancing through her eyes and he's never felt like such a dork ever in his life – until now.
"I really like Peter and Wendy, like you have no idea." He talks in excitement and he has never thought it'd be possible for him to be so giddy about a book – much less, a very old one.
"See—didn't I tell you it was brilliant?" She takes hardback copy of the book, and flicks through it, eyes lighting up with every page she turns. "It's a brilliant book – definitely my favorite."
"Me too." He gives her a small smile, the one that makes his eyes shine and look kind, and catches her heart.
They talk on for hours once again, and he almost forgets she's taken. But a boy with windswept hair and gorgeous blue eyes walks in to the library and steals her off with a chaste kiss on the cheek, and sweet smelling coffee. She smiles and waves a goodbye, and they walk out happy and holding hands.
"Doesn't treat her right my ass." Austin hisses, watching them go. There's a bitter taste in his tongue, as bitter as the taste of whiskey—the color of his eyes.
But he doesn't hear the screaming argument at the alley behind the library, or has seen the bruises that adorned her covered wrists. He thinks she's all fine and dandy, but he'll never meet another girl just as broken as Cassidy with her black rimmed glasses and beautiful smile.
(He evidently has never missed Chicago as much as he does right now.)
The next time they meet, she's finally free – free from the abuse, and the forced kisses, and tight hand holding. Austin sits at their little corner of the library, a mocha frappe sitting beside him and his stacks of so many fairytale books – because he's just as addicted to the stories as he is with her smile. She sits down across him, and reads the hardback cover of The Wizard of Oz. She thinks she's rubbing off on him when in truth, he just really misses her.
"Long time no see." She speaks calmly, and his head snaps up to see a girl he has not seen since a year ago.
Ever since that library day encounter with her boyfriend, she's never really around anymore. And he goes back to school wanting to see her and being disappointed – because girls with fake tans and faces caked with so much make-up didn't really seem so much like Alyson Dawson.
"Yeah." He doesn't stutter this time, and he wonders why. But his heart beats fast, and the feel of butterflies fluttering is there, and he knows—wow, he's still in love with her after all this time.
"You go to Burgress High right?" Her voice is calmer, softer, and more sincere—as if she can get anymore sincere than she did before.
"Yeah." He feels whimsical, closing the book, and grinning at her. She just looks so beautiful – her hair's grown longer, and her eyes look prettier than ever.
"I'm from Arendelle High, so I don't come here to this side of the town often." She explains, and he nods. "But I'm moving to Burgress after summer so I guess you'll be seeing more of me now."
"That's great." His smile is wide and she chuckles because somehow, she can tell he's into her.
"Want to grab some lunch after?" She asks, making the first move because she knows he won't do it.
"Wouldn't your boy—"
"We broke up." Quick to speak, she gives him a tender smile – one that says, hey, she's okay and it's better this way.
"Oh." His heart leaps because he's finally got a chance. But he tries to play it cool and smooth – something she finds both vain and charming, all at the same time. "I, um, I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Her laughs sounds so soft, like lovely music ringing through his ears, resonating on every nerve of his being. He feels the tingles and the shocks and he is very much in love with the way she throws her head back and the hair falls perfectly into place. "It wasn't meant to be."
"So, that lunch offer is still on?" He's hopeful and he fears the desperation that oozes out of every word but, her kind eyes don't buy into that and she sees him so genuine—so goddamn special.
"Yes." Holding his hand, she leads the way out, to the coffee shop that once sheltered them the very first day they met.
But Austin Moon's charm was not small talks over lunch, and telling cheesy jokes that he hopes will make her laugh—no. It's in the way he opens the door and lets her in first, and in how he pulls her chair and pushes it the minute she gets herself settled. It's how he offers to pay for her food, but does not hesitate when she decides they'll split it. It's when he's standing in front of her house and they're there, ready for that goodnight kiss, and they're leaning in and he—he hesitates, and misses her lips, and kisses her nose. Because he knows boundaries, and he's shy and clumsy, but only around one such Ally Dawson.
And it's months later and their lips are still virgin of each other's. She loves him but she cannot wait forever for him to step up and be the man that he is – she needs him to just set his morals aside and just ravish her right then there. She wants to forget the past—his and hers—and replace the burning feel f her ex boyfriends punches with Austin's gentle kisses. She wants to erase the scars of his rough hickeys with new ones from Austin and the tender lust that she knows is building within him.
So she takes matters into her own hands, and they hang out at his place after a dreary rainy day. Water adorns her hair and his entire face is moist of salty drizzle. He lays the duvet over his brand new futon, ready for a peaceful movie night, when she pulls him by the collar and kisses him. She'd be damn dead before she lets another chance pass her by.
It's scary because she thinks maybe, he doesn't want this as much as she thought he did – that he'd reject her and leave her because she feels like the slut that they named her for being so forward. But then with the touch of her fingertips he melts – at her very hands he's weak in the knees that it's almost a struggle to carry her as she wraps her legs around his waist.
He and his clumsy self fall back to the futon, but he's kissing her back, leaving searing bites on her bottom lip. He's ridiculously foolish because the girl of his dreams is kissing with such heat and passion and he's there messing it up with his falling and desperate lip biting. But he's goddamn attractive she'd wonder why on earth would he ever think that.
There's a song in the background and he thinks it's Walk the Moon singing. It feels perfectly suited because right now here she is, kissing the life out of him, on his new futon—could this one be meant to be?
Events play back in small flashes from the day he saw Cassidy for the first time, to this moment of him stumbling over to kiss Ally back. And it's like a music video of his memories, and it's I Can Lift a Car, and the irony is too much to bear, he thinks it's no coincidence.
"Ally." He breathes out, halting the make-out session that's left him all flustered and shy.
"Yeah?" She looks so innocent, but the mess of her hair, and the red of her lips beg to differ.
"Did you know, I can lift a car all by myself?" He talks in all seriousness and she laughs.
They're tangled with the duvet and in the midst of her laughter, they both fall to the floor with a soft thud. She's on top and he's breathless just lying there. Looking down on him – the brown eyes, the fading freckles of his nose, and the bleached blonde hair on his forehead – she smiles slyly.
"Of course." It's the last she says before diving in for another kiss.
A/N: I always feel obligated to write an author's note at the end of each fanfiction, though I rarely have much to say. Idk why but oh well. Ummmm…it took me forever to finish this—like literally, months. But I got it done and I guess that's all that matters. I really did want to get it done. Of course the last part is a bit of a mess and I'm too tired to read over this for mistakes. Please review anyway if you liked it :)