A/N; I don't even know...I had a really hard time with this one. Think I'm sticking to smut from now on.
Chapter 8 - Saturday & Storms
She awoke in her cage that felt like home and smelt like him.
No words.
The feeling was so new, yet so perfect that she once again found herself short on appropriate wording.
Or maybe she could come up with just one.
Paradise.
As a loud noise from outside had woken her up, she reluctantly disentangled herself from their twizzler bodies and snuck a peek out the window.
It was a beautiful day outside. Calm. Not even a breeze. Completely storm free.
More and more cars were starting to reappear in the parking lot. The driver of one of them apparently did not see the humongous light-post and backed right into it. Nice. Good way of ending the break.
She hurriedly climbed back into his bed, unable to think of any other place in the freaking galaxy where she would rather be. She giggled as she ran her now cold feet over his much warmer legs. He mumbled something incoherently, as he was pretending to still be asleep.
"Good morning Sharpie."
He embraced her again. Because he had to. Really. It wasn't a choice.
"Im not sure I'm sold on that name."
"Ok, fine, Mr. Moon."
He tried to push her away. Well, not really. It was mostly for dramatic effect.
"Don't call me that, it reminds me of my dad."
Right. His dad. She could tell that his mood changed instantaneously.
"When are you gong to tell him about your...changes?"
Good question. When was he going to tell his father that he, in one week's time, had decided to not just change his major, and thereby making in painstakingly clear that he was not contemplating working for him, but that he also was quitting the basketball team to pursue music instead. Oh, and he was deeply in love with someone who was, at least for what everyone else knew, not his current girlfriend.
Amazing, mind boggling even, that he was procrastinating that conversation.
"I don't know. I think I'm just going to hide here, under the covers, for forever."
If she would agree to stay with him, he really wouldn't mind.
"What's holding you back? No more fear, remember?" She was trying to sound as convincing as he usually did. She was probably only half-way successful as he was now fully covered by the comforter.
"You haven't met my father." Yet.
"Be brave. All you need is some courage." and she ripped the covers away from his face.
He laughed. "Easier said then done, now, isn't it?"
She nodded and they spent a few minutes in thoughtful silence.
Amazing how thinking was so much nicer with her in his arms.
Amazing how thinking was so much nicer in his arms. She couldn't recall why she had ever hated it.
She suddenly giggled. "I know why you're last name is Moon."
"Aha?"
"Because you're out of this world."
He laughed although he had heard the joke too many times to count, because he had never enjoyed it as much as when it came from her.
And she was laughing, uncontrollably, and it was amazing and he didn't ever want it to stop.
She recovered after a few minutes.
"Austin?"
"Yeah..."
"Someone like you only come around once in a blue moon." Another round of ridiculous giggles. He couldn't help but start, too, because she was freaking contagious. He didn't mind getting infected, though.
She was laying there, under him, still breathing hard from the intensive giggling that had now stopped.
"Pickle, are you ticklish?" "No."
And he tickled her because he already knew her well enough to know when she was lying. That, and he wanted to touch her. Everywhere.
His ear drums were just as in love with her giggles as he was with her.
And he realized that she was a band-aid of sorts, because despite no boo-boos he wanted her on him, wanted to feel her against his skin, since she made everything better.
He kissed her.
Continuously.
One love, two mouths.
How was it possible, that in one week, he had already forgotten life before her. He couldn't remember what he was ever thinking of before last Saturday. And he didn't miss it one bit.
He was pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "I...like you." It was probably the understatement of the year, but shit, what else could he tell her? He had met her a week ago. Oh, and she made him weak, too.
She nuzzled into him, smiling, because in that moment he was no longer a cage, but her home. So more like a house.
"I...like you too".
Good.
"Tomorrow night, you and me, a real date." It wasn't a question.
His hands were suddenly running all over her body. The goose bumps started to raise the minute that his left hand met her waist, spreading throughout the rest of her body as a herd of galloping wild horses, and she answered his non-question with her lips, thereby kick starting another few hours of christening the newly built house.
One love, one house.
And they spent the rest of the morning in their house. In the bedroom of their house.
No shirt, no blouse.
And no other clothes either, for that matter.
...
It was near lunchtime when they finally got out of bed, him reaching for his vibrating phone, and she flinched albeit just internally.
Complications. Lurking in the darkened shadows, soon to enter the bright sunlight.
"My sister just let me know that she couldn't make it tonight, but she'll be coming for lunch". He hesitated. "Do you want to join us?" He really, really, really wanted her to. Partially because he wanted her around pretty much 24/7, possibly with a few, short bathroom breaks, and partially because he really wanted her to meet his sister. He knew she would be hesitant, as it was probably to soon to meet the family. After all, she had just met him a week ago. A life-time long week ago.
He smiled as she nodded, but she looked nervous, like a deer in headlights.
"Don't worry. She will love you. You will love her."
She nodded again. How could she explain to him that that was for some reason exactly what she was afraid of?
...
He pulled her into a kiss before entering the lunch restaurant, almost as if he could sense her nervousness and was trying to replace it with some sort of courage. Not liquid.
He hesitated right in front of the entrance, stalling as if trying to find the right words.
"My sister can be kind of...blunt, I guess, but please give her a chance, she's...awesome."
And she swallowed hard as she realized just how important it was to him for the two of them to get along.
They were seated at the outside patio, the leaves in the nearby trees moving a little in the small breeze while waiting for his sister to arrive.
A short while later, she appeared, only a few minutes late and panting as if she had been running to get there. He introduced them with a small smile on his face.
"Anna, this is my Ally". His sister gave him a very curious look upon hearing his possessiveness. Pickle didn't seem to notice.
"Ally, this is my sister Anna". She looked as if in shock and he looked at her funny. "Sorry. Its just...that's my sister's name as well."
His sister smiled and extended her hand. She was pretty, not as blonde as her younger brother but there was definitely a resemblance there.
"Ally, so nice to meet you. Wishing I could say I've heard so much about you, but then I'd be lying."
She laughed.
Honesty.
She liked it. Loved it, even.
And she liked-loved his sister already.
They ordered their drinks, small talking about school and Anna's drive over there. His concern with them not getting along proved to be ridiculous. His sister was him, minus the insane attraction and the distraction of wanting to touch her.
Easy-going, fun. Energetic. Magnetic.
"So what is this?" She motioned her finger between the two of them. They both blushed.
"We are...friends." He was sounding convincing, right?
"Aha. And I just won the fucking lottery."
"Anna, don't start."
"Ah, come on. Its just...I think you can feel the, I don't know, chemistry I guess, from the other side of the road. And you have a disgusting puppy-love smile on your face, as if you just won the lottery, or hit the jackpot, or maybe hit Ally's jackpot, if you know what I mean..."
He interrupted her. It was kind of necessary. And he did know what she meant.
Truth was, he had hit her jackpot, as recently as a couple of hours ago. Several times. He was today's big winner, indeed.
"Maybe its because I'm happy." He shrugged, an almost shy smile on his handsome face.
Anna smiled. "So, how long have you guys been...friends?"
"A...week." He was annoyed at how insignificant that sounded. It was difficult to make anyone else understand that it might as well have been a year, or a decade, or an eternity.
"Oh, I see. Well, I'm just happy you got rid of bimbo."
She almost choked on her drink. Oh, so his sister had a nickname for Barbie as well. Interesting.
He gave his sister a murderous look.
"I'm sorry, I meant Cassidy." She giggled. He gave her another look that she either didn't get or simply chose to ignore. "Wait, you have broken up, right?"
"I..." he was blushing again. "We're on a break" and his eyes weren't just stabbing hers, they were murdering them.
"Oh...I never really understood that in between thing." She shrugged.
"There's no in between, it will be completely over once she gets back into town." He sounded angry.
"So, you're broken up, permanently, but she doesn't know it yet?"
When she put it that way, it didn't sound great. Mostly because it was the truth.
Luckily, it seemed like Anna finally caught on to his reluctance, as she changed the topic to his embarrassing childhood stories and then the food arrived.
"So, I'm quitting the team." He sounded serious, as if he was telling her that some close relative was dying from an odd, incurable disease.
"Why?" She sounded upset. As if some close relative was dying from an odd, incurable disease.
"I lost a bet."
"To who?"
"To her." He nodded towards his Pickle.
"Did you do this? Made him completely change his life around?"
Her eyes, so similar to his, were suddenly not as friendly.
"What? No, I mean I..."
His sister got out of her seat, walking around the table towards her, him with an unreadable expression on his face and she had no clue of what was going on.
And then Anna hugged her, a huge smile on her pretty face.
"Ally, I just met you, but I think I love you."
He had always had some sort of connection with his sister, them being only a year apart and practically growing up as twins, but he had never felt as connected to her as in that moment, as she was speaking the words that he was still too scared to do.
"I don't know how you convinced him, pretty sure I don't want to know, but nothing has made me happier." She went back to her seat. Still smiling.
"So, only one obstacle left." He nodded.
She felt stupid but she had to ask. "Sorry, but what's that?"
"Dad", they both answered in unison.
She nodded. Right.
One hour and a delicious meal later, they said goodbye in the parking lot, his sister pulling her in to a big hug before climbing into he car, semi-whispering in her ear.
"I know you guys have something good going. It's disgustingly obvious. My brother is usually easy going, but I don't know if I have ever seen him this happy before. Please don't break his heart."
And all she could do was nod as she hugged her goodbye.
He had been right.
She did love his sister.
...
She seemed somber on the way back.
After a few minutes of almost depressing silence, he had to speak to her.
"What's wrong? Am I driving too fast?"
She shook her head. "I loved your sister."
He smiled, because he knew that she would. There was no way that his two favorite people in the whole wide world wouldn't get along.
"Then?"
"I miss mine."
He nodded in understanding. He missed his sister on a daily basis.
"Then why don't you go and see her?"
"It's...complicated."
"Well, lucky for you, I like problem-solving. Let's start with a list of supplies. What do we need to make this trip happen?"
She thought for a minute."A full tank of gas and a shitload of courage."
Oh.
"Well, at least one of those is easy to come by. And the other one, well, you know, just be brave, remember?"
"Yeah", and she nodded as she was obviously lost in thought.
...
The bar was full, many of the students having already returned from their trips and now desperately trying to get the most out of the last 36 hours of the break by spending one last night getting wasted.
It was to be his last performance of the break. Jimmy had already talked about continuing, possibly a few night per week, and had promised him to introduce him to other local bar owners, some of them with close contacts within the record industry.
He was approaching his wildest dreams, in all aspects of his life.
She was as always mesmerized by his stage presence. His performance was nothing short of amazing. He had managed to put together several new songs that fit perfectly into his line-up and when he finished, the audience was louder than ever. She kissed him when he got off stage, having a difficult time containing herself as he was sweaty, mmmmm, both of them fully aware that she was definitely not his groupie and if a friend, a very very very close one.
She excused herself to use the restroom, having been needing to go for a while but not wanting to miss even a second of his performance.
"Don't take too long". He sounded like he was in pain from her leaving him for even a second.
"I won't", and she turned and winked at him as she walked away.
He was at the bar a few minutes later, when he felt her hands over his eyes. He turned around, his eyes still covered by her hands, as he graced her lips with his.
Weird.
It didn't feel right.
Familiar.
But not right.
He removed her hands and looked right into big, green eyes.
Shit. Shit shit shit. Fuck.
She was back.
Cassidy was back.
And he had just kissed her on the mouth.
He turned around and looked right into big, brown eyes. Hurt eyes.
Because of fucking course.
Had he really just kissed his by almost all accounts ex-girlfriend, by mistake, in front of the love of his life, who he knew was still battling demons from infidelity?
Yep. That was correct.
...
She exited the restroom, still on a high from watching him perform. He was so freaking good, she didn't even know how to calm herself down. She was drunk on life, drunk off of him.
She glanced around the area and as she spotted him by the bar, she had to do a double-take.
Nope, her eye didn't deceive her.
Someone was kissing him.
On the lips.
Someone with long, blonde hair.
She was unwillingly catapulted back in time, to a time that she didn't want to revisit, ever, because it hurt like hell and her too alert instincts were signaling flight, flight, flight.
So she did.
She ran towards her car, and for once, she was the one speeding.
He caught up with her in the parking lot, grabbing her arm and inadvertently turning her around.
"Pickle, Ally, I thought it was you, she covered my eyes..."
She nodded, but didn't know what to say as her tears were clogging her throat and soon flooding her eyes. "I..."
She was interrupted. Rudely.
"What happened?"
They both turned around, and there she was. Complication. With a confused look on her face.
None of them answered.
"Austy, what's going on?"
Holy crap, Barbie had a nickname for him. Of course she did. She had, after all, known him for years. Loved him, if not for years, at least for months. And here she was, after a mere, insignificant week, thinking that she had some type of claim on him. That he was hers, when in reality she didn't really even know him. They had a history together. She was ruining their relationship.
She had been wrong. He wasn't her home. And she was now a home wrecker.
"Cassidy, you're back...early."
"If you had answered any of my messages or calls you would have known that."
Right.
"Cassie, look...we need to talk, but this, us, it's over, it's been over..."
Barbie looked like her whole world had fallen apart. "So a few weeks ago, when you told me you loved me, you didn't mean it?"
Pickle flinched. Not internally.
Oh god.
"I...I don't know, maybe in the moment I did but I'm not...I...things have changed. A lot. The temporary break is...permanent."
And with that, Barbie ran back into the bar.
He looked at her, pleadingly. "I...I need to talk to her. I owe her an explanation."
She nodded. "I get it, I...you don't owe me anything, I don't need an explanation. I...we're just friend's, right, so no need to...no worries." If she sounded half as neutral as she intended, and only half as panicked as she felt, she would consider it a success.
And then she got in her car and drove away, speedingly, as she saw the reflection of him walking back into the bar in her back mirror.
POP.
What was that loud sound?
Oh, never mind, just her bubble of bliss breaking. Just as predicted.
...
He knocked on her door, repeatedly, each bang growing more frantic as he slowly realized at she wasn't in there.
Her car was in the parking lot, the cab that had taken him back had pulled up right next to it.
She must have gone for a walk.
He found her on the park bench where they had made out a few nights ago.
He hugged her, because he needed to and because she was quietly crying.
"I really thought it was you, I had no idea she was there and I..."
She interrupted him. "I...I know. That's not what I'm upset about."
Oh.
She continued. "I can't be responsible for you breaking up with someone, I mean, I'm no better than her if I allow for that to happen."
"Her?"
She didn't answer, just looking out over the all but still ocean.
He took a minute, trying to arrange his racing thoughts into something that made sense. How could he explain it to her?
"How do you remove band-aids?"
"What?"
"How do you remove band-aids?"
She shook her head in disbelief. What the hell was he talking about?
"Well, I, I remove them slowly, one small fraction of an inch at a time. And I handle uncomfortable situations the same way. I don't like hurting people. Cassidy and I ..I knew it was ending before I met you, I was just removing the band-aid slower, hoping to minimize her pain. And I know I should have probably just ripped it off. But you have to believe me, we would have broken up whether I had met you or not."
She was quiet for a minute. Processing. Thinking. "I don't rip them at all. I let them stay put until they fall off."
Why didn't that surprise him at all?
"That takes much longer."
"Yeah, but it's painless."
"Maybe it's time to rip it off, though, let the wounds heal, you know?" They both knew they weren't talking about him and Cassidy anymore.
She shook her head.
"Talk to me. Let me help you heal."
"I don't know if I can."
"Try."
She shook her head again, but he could have sworn that she looked less resolute.
"So he cheated on you..."
"It wasn't just that he cheated on me, I mean, it was more than that."
"What do you mean?"
She must be getting a headache from all that shaking.
"I haven't told anyone here, I mean anyone, really."
"So someone's got to be the first, right?" and he smiled.
She took a deep breath, as if she was about to dive into deep water, her eyes still focused on the ocean. Scared but determined.
"Dallas...he never really had my heart. I mean, he touched it, maybe held it, but I took it back, slightly beat up but yet intact. I think she was the one who shattered it, because she lived in my heart and broke it from the inside."
And it hit him. It wasn't a he that had broken her heart, it was a she.
"Who was she?"
"It was...it was my sister. It was my sister that he cheated on me with."
He didn't understand. Had she been in a sorority? He hadn't pinned her as a Greek life type girl.
"I'm sorry, I don't get it."
"My sister. My little sister. My best friend in the whole freaking world".
Oh.
Shit.
Her actual sister. As in blood and genes and stuff.
He had never really watched any Telenovelas, but he was pretty sure shit like this was their main and recurring plot. She was living a tv soap opera. With no apparent way of turning it off.
If Dallas would have been around, he would have been in real prison. For pre-meditated murder.
She was still talking, as if she couldn't stop once she had finally started. "We were roommates, she's only a year younger than me and...well, I was stupid and dumb and too damn trusting."
He just nodded, trying to process what she was saying yet speechless, because what do you say to that?
Her tears were no longer dripping but pouring.
"He...he got her pregnant. That's when I found out. At first she told me it was some random hook-up, which I didn't really question although I thought it was weird because I never heard of anyone and we spent so much time together, but you know...She...she gave birth a few weeks ago. To my nephew. And i cant go there. I cant go home. I cant. He's a baby and I can't get over my own fucking feelings. I'm a horrible person."
He had misinterpreted her sadness as pure broken-heartenedness but there was apparently a good dose of misguided guilt in there as well.
"I..."
"Dont. Dont say anything. Please just hold me."
And he held her as she cried. Possibly for hours. Quiet, as he knew that there really wasn't anything he could say.
Her thoughts were a cluttered mess, but she realized one thing. He wasn't a band-aid, but the week with him had been one. It had made her feel better, alive, but the week was gone, the band-aid was slowly falling off, and it wasn't painless as she was now bleeding again, maybe worse than before, and there was a strong possibility of some scaring. She should have known, because band-aids don't heal the wound, they just conceal the cut. And her cut was still raw. Too raw.
"Austin, I...I don't know what this is."
He did. It was fucking love. Pure. Unadulterated.
She continued. "All I know is that you're probably better off without me, I'm a mess."
He was now the one doing the head shaking.
"I mean, it's been a week, it's better that we break it off now before I mess you up completely. You're going to focus on your music and..."
"No, don't do this, please don't do this, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me."
"You think that now. But feelings can change, quickly. At some point, you loved Cassidy. And now you don't. Maybe someday you will again. Love is a gamble, and I don't want to bet. I don't want anyone else to live in my heart again. It's too dangerous. It can't handle any more cracking."
"Look, I don't have all the answers of life but I know I need you in mine." He didn't care about the abundance of desperation that was clearly evident in his voice.
"You don't know that. I just happened to be the first thing that you laid eyes on. Literally. I could have been anyone. I think you just needed a distraction."
Why was she not hearing him? Why couldn't she see that he was in it for the long run? If he had been the ink type guy, he would have already gotten her name tattooed in an arrowhead heart. She was already tattooed on his brain, a never fading mental tattoo of his greatest memories, and he would never contemplate laser removal. She was his long-term, his forever, he wanted her to be his last first kiss and as well as his last.
"Pickle, Ally, my everything is better with you."
She shook her head. "I'm not good for anyone."
"I'll do anything for you, Ally. Anything."
"Then just forget about me."
And he could see her shoulders shake from crying as she walked away, alone, while the strong wind, close to stormy, relentlessly played with her long, beautiful hair.
And despite the now loud noise of nature, he could hear his own heart crack.
...
He was in the shower, rinsing of the cold rain that had ambushed him on his way back, and for once, it was his tears blending with the shower water, as he cried for her, cried because of her, cried for himself because he wanted to be enough.
His pleasurable band-aid was gone, ripped from its placement around his heart, a big gushing wound taking its place, and his inhaler was not working correctly as it felt like he no longer knew how to breath. Each freaking breath hurt, the pain in his chest reminding him that he was alive despite feeling anything but.
It was probably the shortest relationship he had ever had. He wasn't even sure he could call it that. A week was probably considered a fling, a vacation romance.
Hopelessness filled him, as he realized that he wasn't competing against other suitors but, much worse, against invisible ghosts of the past. Ghosts who had unfairly rigged her lottery of love before he had even had the chance to buy a ticket.
He was walking around his room, aimlessly, as he couldn't sleep, because how do you go to sleep mere hours after your worst fear comes true? It wasn't that he was afraid of nightmares, they would be a joyous contrast to his current state of mind.
But there was a loud, piercing voice inside of his head.
He loved her. He fucking loved her. With her perfect imperfections. All of him loved all of her.
And he knew what he had to do.
He sat down by his desk, looking at the blank page of the notebook that she had bought for him, a page that was now a fitting description for his life, unable to write anything down, because a Sharpie may be permanent but it still can't write anything if it's broken. ...
She was in her room, hurting, hurting everywhere, as if the debris from the detonation of her heart was traveling through her veins, inescapably scratching her skin from the inside.
She had made the right decision.
Right?
But if so, why did it hurt so much?
Why was she breaking all over again?
She went to bed, feeling breathless because her heart wasn't working correctly, and she was suffocating from not having his arm around her.
In a sense she felt free, because that's what happens when you speak the truth, but all she really wanted was to be trapped in his cage that had been her temporary home for a way too short period of time.
Her life was no longer gray, but black nothingness, and she cried herself to sleep as the hurricane winds of her mind blew hard inside her head, unintentionally mimicking the strong winds outside the window.
