the singles : part two
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"yes, I decided, a man can truly change. the events of the past year have taught me much about myself, and a few universal changes. i learned, for instance, that while wounds can be inflicted easily upon those we love, it's often much more difficult to heal them. yet the process of healing those wounds provided the richest experience of my life, leading me to believe that while i've often overestimated what i could accomplish in a day, i underestimated what i could do in a year. bur most of all, i learned that it's possible for two people to fall in love all over again, even when there's been a life time of dissapointment between them."
— nicholas sparks, the wedding
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Austin stood outside the oak door with the gold plate reading 304, knowing that she was just behind it. His mind traveled back to when they had made it through the back door, she had turned to him and slapped his arm with aggression.
"We're on a tight schedule," she had hissed to him, "and they don't have time to be alone at the moment."
That was the last he had heard from her, and he wasn't instructed — like the others — by her to where the main dining hall was, or given a room key that she had been mailed weeks prior so they could avoid the fiasco of the front desk. The rest of the court was given a smile and plastic cards, her telling them that the cards were in fact the room passes and had charging abilities, in case they wanted to order room service or go souvenir shopping. They had all been paired into rooms, so the only plausible explanation he could come up with was the fact that she simply didn't give him his own shiny red plastic card because they were going to share a room.
Taking in a deep breath and bracing himself for whatever rage she might unleash on himself, he carefully pounded on the door with three simple knocks.
Much to his surprise, the door flew open in seconds, revealing Ally herself pulling off one of her sky high heels, trying to balance on one foot as she did so. The corners of her mouth quickly turned down, though, as she realized who was standing in front of her. She forcefully attempted slamming the door in his face, but his reflexes were too quick for her.
"What do you want," she snarled, moving further into the room as he shut the door behind himself.
"I'd like to know where I will be sleeping tonight," he said in a convincingly fake chipper voice, propping an elbow against the wall and crossing one leg behind the other.
"How 'bout under a bridge," she says in a suggestive voice, her back still facing him.
"Can I have the nice Ally back? You know, the one that doesn't talk and act like a total bit—"
"If you value your life you won't finish that sentence," she says whipping around, walking straight up to him, her eyes burning in the dim lighting with a fire he's only seen once before, many years ago.
"—ch," he answers with a conceited smirk, taking his elbow off the wall and crossing his arms over his chest in a challenging manner.
"Bad decision," she growels out, raising a hand to his cheek. She almost slaps him, too, but once again his cat like reflexes are just too fast for her. He twists her whole arm around her head, spinning her around as well — reminding her of the police men in Law & Order, and how they almost always perform that exact same maneuver on every squirming criminal in just about every episode.
"Why are you so worked up," he murmurs down to her, her shallow breaths fading into a full on pant. Austin lets her go with a slight shove, annoyance and concern clearly evident in his harsh gaze.
Feeling her eyes prickle with irritation, Ally knows she's reached the brink of tears once again. "Because nothing is different, Austin!" She sobs in a quiet voice, slowly falling to the floor to sit Indian-style as she holds her face in her palms.
Scrunching his face up in confusion, he moves in front of her and slips down to the floor, taking her hands off of her angelic face and into his own. Realizing that tears were spilling over her mascara-coated eyelashes, he felt his heart break slightly. "What do you mean?" He questions while squeezing both of her hands.
Yanking her hands out of his grasp, she wipes away the tears currently streaming down her cheeks; she inhales sharply, willing the scent of lilacs to calm her over reactive system down. "I thought that by now, after you grew up a little and got a taste of real life, you'd actually listen to someone besides yourself. Well, guess what? I'm sick and tired of being the girl that everyone over looks and ignores. I want to be heard, but no one ever pays enough attention to actually listen, and I'm really, really tired of coping with that."
Moving closer to her and caressing her cheek, he starts to tell her, "I listen, Ally, I—"
"No you don't, Austin! No you don't and you never will, and it's not okay that I always have to settle for that," she shouts, standing up while letting a few more tears slip away.
Balling his hands into fists, he stands up as well, getting right up in her face. "Well, then, I'm sorry that you have to settle for me. I hope one day you'll find someone that can listen to you and treat you like the demanding, obnoxious, spoiled little princess that you think you are."
Biting down on her lip, while turning her head to the side and shaking it as if to imply he doesn't understand she seals her eyes tight and let's herself cry. Walking back to the door, she opens it and points a hand to tell him to get out with a pained expression. For a split second, she can see his eyes soften — she knows that he realized that he hurt her in a way very few people can; in that way that cuts so deep and burns with all the fire in the world — but it's gone to fast, and it turns back to the raw rage as he stalks out the door.
Before she shuts it, she runs a hand through her hair and looks at the floor. "You know, Austin, I can still remember when I was sincerely happy," she breaks her small speech to give a small smile that vanishes as quickly as it came, "and most of the time, it was because of you. But now all I feel is...emptiness. And let me tell you, it hurts so much more than pain." And with that, his face is met with the oak he had spent his time staring at just minutes before.
Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he hits the wall hard with his left fist, and fights back his own tears. He's sure that he's feeling at least a part of what she is — that exasperating feeling that you're breaking down, but in a way only one person can manage to make you, because Austin Moon does not cry, under any circumstances, but once again she manages to make him.
Ally almost falls to the floor again, wanting to succumb to the sweet state of done — done with every weight that makes her drown when the waters get a little too rough. Crossing her arms over her chest, believing that if she squeezes hard enough she'll be able to keep herself from breaking, she runs into the bathroom and stares at the wild girl that gawks back at her from the mirror.
"This isn't the time or place to break down," she cries out, accessing the damage done to her carefully applied make up. Blotting on more mascara — paying enough attention this time to use water proof — and smearing different concealers, foundations, and blushes over her tear stained face, she tries to decide if she was just imagining the spark — the one everyone used to comment on, back during her glory days — she saw earlier in her eyes.
The irony of it all, though — once again the seemingly flawless and perfect Barbie doll girl cracks, showing off all the baggage and damage that the façade so cleverly hides. When she's supposed to be chasing down shots with her now sister-in-law/ best friend, she stands lonely in her and one of her old friend's room. Once again, she falls apart when dawn was finally starting to break.
Slipping on the black flats she had brought for the dancing portion of the night, she decides it's time to conquer the demon and go out to plaster on more fake smiles, show off more dimples and gush over how lucky she is and how her life is just so amazing right now, that she feels like she lives on cloud nine.
Yeah, right. She thinks with a snort.
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Austin had always considered himself a party man. He loved the fumes of alcohol resting in the air, in people's breath. The different girls that wore the skimpiest of outfits as they grinded against a complete stranger, showing off the divine sway of their hips. The music that vibrated the whole room, drowning out any conversation with its increasing volume. He loved when he stepped out onto the dance floor, twisting and turning with the rhythm to earn the crowds approval.
Suddenly, however, with three people chatting his ear off about topics he didn't care about in the least, and another two asking where Ally has gone — they claimed that she was last seen with him, so he should obviously know where she was currently located — he wondered how he could ever stand the hot, crowded atmosphere.
"I don't know, and I don't care!" He finally proclaimed, marching across the room to his seat.
"Someone is in a bad mood," Trish said with one of her infamous looks of 'what's your problem'?, "and do you happen to have anything to do with Ally's absence?" she continued with a narrowing of eyes.
"How should I know, and why should I care?" He snapped, taking a sip out of his water glass as he scoped out the room for a girl worthy enough to dance with himself.
"Aw, trouble in paradise, sweetheart?" Trish quipped in a sarcastic tone, making her eyes go wider as she pouted out her lips in a mock sympathy look.
Sneering, he stood up from the table. "She overreacted to nothing, as usual," Austin said as he pushed in his wooden dinning chair.
"I swear to god, Austin, she's been going through a rough time and if you hurt her—"
"If anything I said hurt her she needs to grow a backbone and get over herself," he snaps back at the Latina, his mouth going dry as he thought of hurting the delicate porcelain doll he made Ally up to be.
"I don't care about what you said; I care about how she took it. And by the sounds of, it's not Ally that needs to get over herself," she retorted with narrowing of eyes and clenched jaw.
"Do you want me to go find her or something?" He asked her exasperatedly, slamming both hands on the white table cloth with a thud.
"No need," Dez answered, pointing to the figure behind Austin that was slowly making her way to the table as she chatted with the seemingly millions of people that begged for her attention.
Pivoting to look to where the red head had pointed, Austin momentarily felt his mouth gape at the short brunette across the room, smiling and laughing as she gladly accepted her picture being taken with a pale blond woman that was to some extent taller than her own petite size. The trails the tears had left were completely erased, the sadness in her eyes not completely extinct but covered by a cloudy haze. Wondering if this was just a front she was putting up — or if it was her legitimate behavior — he felt his feet carry himself over to where she stood.
"Austin!" she proclaimed, elbowing the small crowd forming around herself out of the way. Holding out her arms to signal the need of an embrace once she was close enough to him, he confusingly returned her hug.
"Is this your form of an apology?" He asked into her hair under his breath so no one could eves drop.
"No. Just the cliché reuniting moment Austin and Ally always deserved," she murmured back, and he could hear the cracking running underneath her words. Deciding to sustain the hug, he pulled her off the floor — much like their actual first encounter, once they realized who one another were — and spun her around in circles as he answered her.
"Are we going to forget the fight we just got into," he questioned, a little too optimistic for her liking.
Setting her back down, figuring that's what was appropriate, she shook her head slightly. It seemed to anyone else a slight twitch — possibly from hearing something intriguing, or subconscious movements — if anyone was able to even pick up on it. But the message it sent to him, it was as if she had screamed it at him with full volume.
No.
Wishing she didn't have such a sadistic — again, something only he was picking up on, seeing as he was the only one really looking and understanding her thought process — grin plastered across her face, he held out an arm for her to link with, a tight smile adorning his features.
Beaming gratefully up at him, she snakes her skinny, non-muscular arm into the opening he was offering up. Turning slightly to throw a smile and wave — a wave that said 'see you later' — over her shoulder to the people she was socializing with prior to his abrupt visit to herself.
"We're going to be those perfect people everyone wants to be, like the old days. Okay?" She mumbles over to him, waving at the people they passed that were doing the same back at her.
Swiveling down to study her — to actually read into the emotions she was expressing, hoping to dig underneath that mask she was so convincingly wearing and figure out what could've possibly changed her so drastically — he felt uneasy. Earlier, with the carefree, juvenile, and easy going young woman he felt like everything in his life was finally back on that straight, clear path. He felt like the weight of the world was off his shoulders, and all that mattered was the two of them being together — just simply being together. Now, the beautiful girl on his arm couldn't seem more repulsive.
Kissing her hair, he whispered, "I'm not interested in being fake, Ally. Instead, we're going to be our old selves — you know, the ones that were friends and loved each other through thick and thin?"
Closing her eyes as her face fell, he wonders if he struck another nerve with her. Her face suddenly overcome by those real, genuine expressions that he knew all too well — the ones he'd so secretly loved and depended on when they were careless kids — he supposed she was caught up in some memory of the two of them being happy together. Or, maybe even one of the old group — Dez, Trish, Austin, and Ally — memories that he prayed she still had buried in her mind somewhere.
"I'd love that," she finally answered once she sat down in the chair he had pulled out for her, looking up at him with optimism and sorrow. Enjoying the fact that her eyes were slowly losing the foggy mist — though they still lacked the curious and intense sparkle — that covered the clear window they provided to her heart, he down sat next to her.
"Looks like Auslly isn't in distress, Dez," Trish told her husband from across the round table only for the four of them; the rest of the court was sitting at the table nearest to the right of them.
"Auslly?" Austin asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, please," Trish dismissed with a wave of her hand, "like you've never heard that one before. For crying out loud, you guys came up with our couple name! What was it? Tez? Drish?"
"Trez," Ally pronounced as she took a long gulp from the crimson colored beverage in her crystal wine glass, staring intently down at her hands as her eyes became glassy with the memories plaguing her mind.
"Well, now that Trez got their happy ever after, when do you think Auslly's will be, Dez? The bet we had when we were younger was way off apparently," Trish continued, not realizing — or simply ignoring — the sudden change of her best friend, and the distant and dreary state she was falling back into.
"Excuse me," Ally gasped out, her wide brown irises darting all over the place as she took in shallow breaths and attempted to steady herself on both her own and Austin's chair as she stood up. Striding towards the exit, she crossed the cleared area of the room, clearly set aside as the dancing section with a hand on her forehead.
"Ah, I'll be back," Austin said as he himself moved to chase after the bombshell of a woman half jogging away from the scene.
Catching her by the arm halfway across the dance floor, he spins her back into his own arms, rocking her carefully side to side. As he contemplates his next move, he subconsciously determines the song that was currently making the hard wood beneath them shake.
"Please, Ally, please," he whispers down into her ear, watching her closed eyes flutter slightly before she squeezes them tighter shut and digs her teeth into her innocent lips. Nodding her head against his chest, he spins her out again so they'll actually be able to dance.
"You know I can't dance," she said desperately as she stared up at him with an empty gaze.
"You can keep a beat, right?"
"Of course," she reciprocates in an obvious tone.
"Well, that's all dancing comes down to really. Just different moves based off steadying yourself to the beat. Come on, sing it with me, and you'll be fine," he states, pulling her body closer to his own as he snaked his arm around her waist and ensnared her fragile hand in his own.
And that's just it. Their new friendship, partnership, whatever you label it, doesn't start with some magnificent, bold and daring retelling of the damsel in distress being saved by the handsome knight in shining armor. It doesn't start with a bang, with fireworks playing on their tongues because their lips were just magically drawn to each other. It didn't even start with some drunken confession of long term attraction, then them both laughing over the mistakes they made and how they are bound to make a few more. It didn't happen when they were in one another's arms earlier, when — in her opinion — it really should've. No, they are born again on the dance floor.
They twist and dive together, just as they did when they were teenagers. She's never been able to dance — he has always made sure to tell her in that snarky voice of his that she most likely never will — but she manages to for him, because he's just so etched into every last fiber of herself it'd seem impossible to not be here with him, spinning on her tip toes and softly mumbling out lyrics to all the songs that erupt from the fabric covered speakers near the DJ table. He likes to spin her out and then pull her back into his arms, because he likes knowing that he's the absolute only one in the room that has her full attention. He likes when she does that half squeal, half giggle that he once dubbed her trademark, as he whips her around in all those fast-paced dances, because he refuses to just sway back and forth to a rhythm instead of being swept up within one another's arms.
He can't fathom why only ten, maybe twelve people have joined them in their dancing frenzy. From experience — meaning the two short and dull weddings he had attended when he was still just a boy — he knew that once people began to open the floor, people would flock over to do all their wild and exotic moves. Really, he didn't mind, because he was so deeply and passionately engulfed in Ally to actually comprehend any other being around him, but he still found it quite peculiar that no one was jumping at the chance to reminisce and drink and just get back to all that good partying on the dance floor.
She had been in a dizzy, nothing state for a little over two years now. She'd tried to pull herself out of — really, she clawed a the surface of actual life every day with a high demand to get back to that homey feeling of safety and security, or just plain old genuine happiness — whatever funk she had fallen into, but she'd come to terms with the fact that it couldn't be done with only one person fighting. It was hard for her, dragging someone else down to her level, but they always seemed to go so willingly; she remembers each look of sympathy as she let a single tear slip, begging desperately for them to hold her closer before the sobs took over for the night. Of course, she had turned to men; all the short, air headed, conceited, yet still empathetic men that her Broadway experience had to offer. They made her flush and float — all the things she deemed as a good sign — but they still didn't supply the empty need of compassion. More than half the time, she could tell they were looking through her; she wanted them to understand, and she took the time to explain it in the best possible way, but they never opened their ears long enough or wide enough to not only listen, but hear.
But she could still remember those happy, in between the lines days that seemed to blur together as time pressed on. She could remember how every single summer night, they all sat in Austin's Chevy pickup truck bed managing to find anything and everything to talk or laugh about, as Dallas drove them through the beautiful city known as Miami under the too bright stars. She remembers how easy it was to fall in love with Dallas, but how easy it was to hate him when she was with Austin. She could still taste the bitterness and fizzing of the very first beer she ever drank, and how she flushed so easily as her three best friends — because yes, she did count her brother as one of her best friends — gushed mockingly over the fact that she was not only becoming a party girl, but an under aged drinker as well. She can still smell the fresh rain sizzling on the pavement due to the thirst quenching heat, as they set up the only water proof camera any of them owned and splashed in all the puddles they could find as the blasted all of Trish's Blue October and The Fray albums. Simply put, she can still remember how she grew up with Austin Moon and how exactly he made her grow to love all the obnoxious and annoying imperfections he carried with him along the years — she can still remember how loving all his faults and just all of him in secrecy made her the happiest girl in the world.
And it's funny, because even after all the silence and the separation and the pain and the tears and the time, she can still fall back into that habit of loving every bit of him after a few short songs and a glass of wine.
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Austin Moon was befuddled. He was stumped. He was, — oddly enough — hurt by that one girls — that one girl who makes his heart beat a million times a minute, that makes his mouth dry when she absentmindedly licks her lavishing lips, that one girl that always manages to drive him to the brink of insanity — antics. The antic of running away instead of facing the problem head on, the antic of bottling up what she was feeling or thinking instead of — like how she always appeared to do — just wearing her heart on her sleeve, and most importantly, the antic of making him fall so deeply and soundly in love with her even when their fates just don't seem to cross in the exact way that he so fiercely wishes they would.
All was well, it had seemed — that natural glow of hers was back as they chatted about life and their failed mishaps in love over the dinner, returning to the dance floor moments later to laugh endlessly over old time jokes, and even managing to squeeze in a few new ones. She had caught the bouquet of flowers Trish threw behind her back, running and jumping into his arms directly after to squeal over how it's always been a dream of hers to catch something, let alone something as monumental and meaningful as the bride's bouquet. She had stopped the nervous fumbling around while dancing, replacing it with the obvious talent of swaying her hips that she must have picked up somewhere along that crazy adventure she had on Broadway — the same crazy adventure, from what he could tell, broke her down into a million glass shards that were still in the process of being glued back together.
They were having fun when it happened, as well. He held her skinny waist close, drinking in all the alcohol fumes that were poorly concealed by spearmint gum — and that forever the same honey, vanilla, and cinnamon concoction that she always smelt of — while seductively whispering the lyrics of one of Ushers mega hits, 'DJ Got Us Fallen In Love Again' into her ear as she kept that continuously enchanting sway of her curvy figure.
Of course, though — just as the ice blue eyed blond had done in their earlier years, along with the nice jock that always had the same dimply smile and even tan — his first love had decided that in that moment — that magical moment where he could tell that the formerly shy songwriter was trembling under his grasp, on the verge of completely succumbing to his everlasting charm and kiss him back once he worked up enough courage to actually plant his own lips on hers — Cassidy had taken it upon herself to tear apart a perfectly perfect moment in time, stealing him away from the slightly shorter brunette and entrapping him in a hug.
Cassidy had complained about the noise, pulling him to the corner that coincidently held all her new college friends. She had hugged him once more, planting a kiss on his cheek as she began to gush over how she had missed him and how she was so devastated that their long distance relationship had fallen apart so quickly.
"We could go back to it, you know," she had said, the same mischievous glint in her eyes he had grown so accustomed to, "go back to us."
He made it clear to her that he had dated since their break up, that he had fully moved on and that attempting to have a civil conversation — let alone evening — after the heart break she had put him through wasn't appropriate. Pouting, she had asked him for at least the rest of the song to dance to, stating that she had never intended for their friendship to fall out as well.
He agreed with much annoyance, thinking of Ally and her delicate and formal style of dancing as Cassidy ground herself into him in a sultry fashion. Once the song finally came to an end, he slipped out of her grasp in a hurry, trying to find his way back over the dazzling caramel eyed girl.
Once he realized that not only had she vanished off the dance floor, but wasn't at the currently vacant table, he knew immediately that she had snuck off by herself. He knew that she had been desperate to frolic in the night air, outside in the gardens under the resplendent stars.
He had found her exactly where he guessed she would be; perched on the side of the white gazebo in the middle of the dew covered grass field, staring up the sky as tears traced down her cheeks. He had silently made his way up to her, clearing his throat once he felt that he was close enough.
She swung her legs over the side, getting on her feet once more as she brushed past him, walking slowly but swiftly in the direction of the bench near the edge of the pond. He had stopped her by forcefully grabbing her arm, spinning her — not in the light and careless way he had on the dance floor, but with determination and curiosity — around to face himself.
"Get away from me," she choked out, a new round of tears replacing the old. She gave him a shove, and strides once more away from him.
Grabbing her shoulders, he began his questioning with "What," only to be cut off again by her as she backed away from him in haste.
"You're not allowed to ask 'what'. Not when it's so clearly obvious," she had said as distant and icy as the blade of a knife.
Not giving him time to respond, she raged on, "I mean, really, Austin! Don't you freakin' see that I'm tired of being that girl that gets ditched for the perfect little beauty queen? Can't you see I'm tired of waiting and waiting for you to realize!" She had screamed, pushing him with all of her might at each dramatic extension of a word.
"Realize what!" He had shouted back, not feeling patient enough to try and keep his boiling emotions soothing and calm. "Realize that all you want to do is prance around, breaking every heart in sight? I listened to you at dinner, Ally! I heard you talking to Trish about all those actor boys you broke up with, just this past month!"
"Oh, really? And did you ever stop to think why, Austin! Did you ever stop and think over the fact that I'm so far down in a place that only you can reach, but I'm fighting so hard, trying so hard to find a substitute that might make me actually feel something! That I've been going through all this crap with college and my career and record labels and my parents' divorce and, god, so many other things! It's really hard when you don't have someone in your life that can make you feel—" she cuts off, biting down on her lip as she wiped her eyes.
"Make you feel what, Ally! Make you feel like you're the prettiest and most talented girl in the world? Well, I'm sorry, but there's always going to be someone who—"
"Make me feel like I'm worth something! Or, I don't know, make me feel like I'm actually alive!" She screamed at him, but then steadied herself before she went on a full on tangent. "Like I'm not that forgettable nobody that you always made me feel like, Austin," she whispered as she fell to the ground on her knees, no longer being able to support herself.
"Well, what if—" he's cut off again, only he doesn't really mind because he was just going to spit out random nonsense that would only make her more irritated.
"No, no, no! No more 'what ifs'! I have gotten way to many of those over the years! What if it doesn't work out? What if you don't like me as much as I like you? What if you break my heart? What if I break your heart? What if it hurts? What if it leaves a scar?" She mocks in once again a yelling tone, contorting her face as she sobs even harder.
"Yeah, well what if I never thought I was good enough for you!" He finally screams out, plummeting down next to her as he face palms himself. "What if I thought you deserved better than some conceited, mess of a dreamer?" he mumbled, keeping his gaze locked on anything but her.
Moving closer to him, she whispered back with her eyes closed tight, "And did you ever stop to think just for a second, that there might not be anyone better for me, than this mess of a dreamer?"
He goes to lay flat on his back, too, because he doesn't think he'll be able to manage thinking of those far away and unsure memories that she had just washed up; all those happy and carefree summer days, playing hide-and-go-seek in the mall, as if they were just children — only, even though at the time they would no doubt fight to the death that they were 'responsible and mature' teenagers, way back in those days, they were still children. They were silly and naive children, trying to bite back smiles and countless sentences that consisted of three simple words that swallowed themselves whole, never making it to the surface. Dumb and reckless children that had fallen into the habit of ruining, just destroying anything that they could get their hands on even if they didn't realize that they were in fact breaking something without meaning too. Yes, that's all they were: children with big hearts and nothing to do with them, so they went along in their 'friend' ways until they just completely tore apart, suffocating one another into a thick blanket of silence that could only be blamed on time.
As quick and fast as their rebirth moments had come — those beautiful and harmonious minutes spent tangling up within one another on the dance floor, laughing until they were light headed and drinking until they couldn't see straight (oh, why were they so sober now?) — it had gone. She spent her time staring at the constellations, to afraid to ruin the barrier of quiet and emptiness that had risen between them. Everywhere seemed to hurt with her; her arms, her legs, her head, but most importantly, her heart. Oh, how her heart ached with so much sadness over the redundancy of the worlds actions, of his actions. Her heart burned with passion and longing, so desperately wanted to rekindle anything she can with the man that had always proven himself to be a right mystery to her.
Once he reached a point where he couldn't remember a time when they weren't choking on the silence that rested uncomfortably between them, he stood up and pulled her unwilling form up to his as well.
"Give me at least one more dance, where we'll actually be by ourselves without anyone else cutting in," he had whispered down to her, pulling her close so he could snake his arms protectively over her frail waist.
She buried her tear stained face into his chest, letting him be her support for the time being. And, for once in his life, he was okay with the thought of having all these screaming hissy fights with her every day for the rest of his life, as long as when it was all said and done, she would end up right back in his arms, where they both knew she belonged. He didn't care that he was missing probably the most important night of his best friend's life, because he knew that Dez was as far gone into Trish as he was in Ally. He didn't have a second thought about keeping her out here, in the musky blackness where the crescent moon shone like a spotlight on the cliché pond that they danced next to, because he knew better than anyone else — and she didn't even have to tell him — that it was her dream to be held with all the love and adoration in the world under those stars that hung in the night sky. He made sure to sing along softly to the music they could faintly here from inside the building, to make sure she didn't fall too far into a land of peace and forgetfulness; the very last thing he wanted was for her to be so caught up in his nothingness that she would forget that he was making this huge, symbolic effort behind something as small as a slow dance.
And when he suddenly stopped the movement of his feet, she knew what that meant; that it was time to pry herself of his chest and look up into those mischievous and intoxicating hazel orbs of his that were sure to hold some sort of non-reassuring answer to one of her many questions.
He leaned down to press her rose colored lips against his own, both of them molding into — the very first of many to come, neither of them doubted — the kiss with all the fire and the love and the hate they had held in for the years they had known each other. She had spent a lot of time fantasizing — when she was younger and yes, when she was older — about their first kiss; all those butterflies and fireworks and just the sense of longing beneath his steadiness. Unlike the dissapointing moments — that she had dreamt about for far longer than she would care to admit — they had shared in their earlier encounters, however, this time reality was finally better than any scenario she had made.
And that's how they spent the rest of their night — prancing around after each other in a fit of giggles, him making empty threats of killing her as she squealed and sprinted off into the field of fireflies. Her doing triple spins on her very tip toes as he stood in awe and disbelief of her impeccable dancing talent that he had missed out on for the past few years. More than anything else, though, they kissed; they kissed in laughing fits and after long staring contests; after she caught three lightning bugs in row, claiming she owned him at capturing the bugs; they kissed in the middle of sentences; they kissed during every single one of those in between, quiet moments that felt hot and breathless; they kissed when they simply felt like it. Not once did either of them hesitate or resist, because they both knew that at this point in time — after all the stages of denial and lying through their teeth (and to themselves) — it was all they'd ever wanted, and it would actually be painful to not give in.
Ally Dawson had always been firmly opposed of believing that the happiest moments of your life lied in the future. She had always been sure that — since we always want what we can't ever have — all of the happiest moments you'll ever experience in your lifetime laid in your past. The past seemed always so crystal, so pure and innocent and unchangeable — her rock that kept her sane and reminded her that there was indeed one thing is this hectic world that would never shift or adjust or alter; it would stay the same because no one could go back and undo it. Only, here with Austin Moon — her Austin — she realized at all those elated and jubilant moments were to always be in the present. With the past, it'll only be another blurry memory that'll never bring you back all the warmth it once had; with the future, you could only guess and assume of what emotions you'll feel and how you'll react to them; oh, but in the present, you're so high up on cloud nine floating that you forget to watch where you'll end up falling. In the present, — in this new present of hers — all you can think to do is be happy. And for the first time in years, her love for Austin and his love for her only made her exactly that.
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A/N: so, I realize that I said I wasn't going to post till tommorow, but Fridays are always so busy and everyone seems to post, so I figured I'd be super nice and upagainst day early for you guys. Sorry for any mistakes, I will beta read when im back from camping. Leave me tons and tons of reviews, will you? Thanks! :) Disclaimer.
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