A/N; So this is it. I know it took forever to get the last chapter up, partially because I felt (and still feel) that it's a little too sappy, and partially because I'm not completely ready to say goodbye to this version of Austin and Ally.
I had so much fun writing this story. Please entertain me and let me know your favorite chapter, or quote, or song reference or anything else that you liked. Or didn't like. Whatever works.
Thanks for all the reviews and favorites and follows, you guys are truly amazing. I was unsure of what people would think of this story, and I'm so happy that at least some of you like it.
Oh, and this is long as heck. I don't think I have ever written a 7000 word chapter before.
I'm sorry. Word vomit. It's a never-ending issue.
Take a break in the middle or something.
She opened her eyes, reluctantly, her vision perfect yet she couldn't see, the darkness of her life not even slightly subsiding through her few hours of painful, restless sleep.
Consuming blackness.
Not a hint of grey.
She was still blind, just not literally.
She didn't know what time it was, because her natural alarm clock was notably absent as the rain continued to pour outside the window, almost banging up against it, she was watching the resulting small rivers trickling down the glass through the broken blinds.
It made her want to cry, but she wasn't, not anymore, the dam of tears momentarily dried up but sure to be recharged shortly.
She started to think that his suggestion of hiding under the covers, for forever, wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Maybe today, she was a bear, ready for months of hibernation.
But she was missing her honey.
And the cave was too dark for her liking.
It would be better, so much better, if he had been there with her.
She missed him, her body aching for him, her head full of him.
She really wanted to be full of him, as her body was desperately craving the intimacy that her mind wouldn't allow.
How was it even possible to miss someone so much that you had seen 12 hours ago and just met a little more than a week ago? Like, miss with an ache so strong that it overwhelmed you? She had never before thought anything like that could be possible, at least not for her. But then again, she had never met him before.
She had never let him go before.
She realized that since the previous night she hadn't, not once, thought about Dallas, or her sister, or her nephew as all she could think of was Austin and that painful facial expression he had had when she had asked him to forget about her.
Oh. God.
Whirlwind romances. Intense. Fun, but short-lived.
So much fun.
But destined for failure.
Right?
She got up, head-hangingly, feeling like a puppet whose master was no longer willing to pull the strings, effortfully observing the angry sea outside the window.
She wanted to sail away on that stormy ocean in her boat of despair, until hitting the shores of the state of numbness and non-feeling, because god damn it she was feeling things and it was every bit as unpleasant as she had known, expected, and therefore had been trying to avoid.
The now large pools of rainwater in the parking lot reminded her of swimming, and swimming reminded her of him. Crap.
She exited the room and went over to the small kitchen where they had first met, pouring herself a bowl of cereal and swallowing the first few spoonfuls.
Eating cereal that she didn't have the appetite for reminded her of him. Of him eating.
And suddenly, the only appetite she had was for him. Crap.
This was impossible.
Fucking breathing reminded her of him. Crap.
How had he managed to not just sneak into her life, but almost becoming it, in one measly week? Dependence was her greatest nightmare and yet, she couldn't help to think that they had been living in a dream of co-dependent bliss for the past week.
She went back to bed. Defeated. Deflated.
Back under the cover. Thinking. Remembering, her sadness slowly turning into something reminiscent of anger. He, they, had already messed her up for so long.
Too long. She didn't want to let them anymore.
They had broken, shattered, one of her dreams, but it was so incredibly unfair that they, and possibly herself, wouldn't allow her to build another one.
Her mental darkness was momentarily interrupted by the door slamming open. Wide. Loudly. Just like the person responsible for said door slamming.
Trish was back. Break was most definitely over.
"You're still in bed?" Her roommates voice was piercing her sad ears.
"Nice to see you too, Trish.". She was trying to sound sarcastic but failed and ended up sounding exactly the way she felt, namely utterly miserable, instead.
"What's wrong with you?" Trish moved to pull up the dysfunctional blinds. "It's past 9. Since when do you drag in bed? I thought that was my specialty".
It was. Trish was a master at 'accidentally' oversleeping and thereby miss class.
She didn't respond, and less than thirty seconds later she felt the cover being pulled off of her instantly too cold body. Great.
"Are you hungover?"
She shook her head. She wasn't. At least not from alcohol. She was going through withdrawal from not seeing him, though.
She gruntingly dragged herself out of bed, under the scrutinizing observation from the girl who had quickly become her closest friend.
"What happened to you?"
She looked at Trish in puzzled non-understanding.
"Ally-I-don't-know-your-middle-name Dawson, is that a tan? You went out in the sun? To the beach?"
She smiled. For the first time in what felt like forever.
"Better. I went swimming." She sat down on the nearby chair.
Trish gasped over dramatically. She tended to do that a lot.
"I can't believe it. Sounds like you had quite a week by yourself."
She blushed but didn't say anything.
"You have been by yourself, right?"
How much could she tell Trish before she would inadvertently break down into hysteric sobs?
"I might have spent some time with...someone". More like all her time.
"Who?"
"His name is...Austin." She managed to say his name with a tone of almost completely void of emotions.
"Austin? Austin...Austin Moon? My GOD, he's so hot."
"Trish, don't start."
"Don't tell me you don't think so, I mean have you seen him? Well, clearly you have..."
"Stop talking."
"So you do agree."
She shook her head at her roommate's claim. She was overly confident that pretty much any female in the state of Florida would agree with her statement.
"Yes, fine, he's hot, but I mean, that's not it, he's...amazing." She wasn't entirely pleased with her choice of description. It sounded so insignificant. Too insignificant.
Trish's eyes lit up as if someone had just given her a giftcard to the overpriced animal print store in the nearby mall. Loaded with an obscene amount.
"So...you guys are..."
"Friends?" and she knew she was blushing, because Trish and Austin seemed to have something in common; they both could look right into her soul.
"Aha. So did you kiss him?"
She nodded. Trying to hide anything would be utterly pointless and quite honestly a waste of time. Trish had a built in bull-shit detector. That was one of the reasons she loved her.
"Wait a minute...you slept with him, didn't you? That's why you look so relaxed and non-uptight."
Her face answered for her by turning a shade redder. She was trying to come up with an fitting response to Trish's insulting compliment, but her roommate was apparently set on continuing to play the role of a talk-show host and complete the improvised interview.
"More than once?" Another shade added. It seemed as if she was partaking in a game of playing 50 shades of red today.
"So...how was it?"
"Trish!"
"So that good, huh..."
She didn't need to nod to confirm. Her almost purple cheeks did it for her.
"This is huge. And I'm not taking about Austin's..."
She interrupted her. She did not need to her Trish to talking about Austin's...private parts.
"I...Trish...I fell for him. Hard."
"So, huge and hard, huh?"
"TRISH"
The Latina was laughing. "So, this is not just a fling?"
"I don't know, I don't think so."
She didn't know what she had expected her roommate's reaction to be.
She definitely hadn't expected the ear piercing squealing that filled the messy room.
"Finally. I'm so happy for you, you deserve it and...wait, if you're happily in love or lust or whatever you're telling yourself that this is, why does your face look like someone hit you with a truck, then backed up and ran you over again, leaving you alive but wishing you were dead?"
"I...kind if broke it off last night."
"Sounds like the dumbest decision you have ever made."
"Thanks Trish' you're sweet."
"Sorry, it's just...you seem different. You look like shit, but it still looks like you spent the week breathing instead of holding your breath. You look, I don't know...alive."
She felt dead. At least on the inside.
She had told Trish some things about her past, not every excruciating detail but enough for her to know that her self-induced celibacy and her no-dating rules were results of painful memories that she was still working on overcoming.
"I'm kind of messed up."
Trish shook her head. "You're not nearly as messed up as you think you are. Or at least not that much more messed up than the rest of us."
She thought about it. There was some truth there.
Everyone had a past. They just varied in messiness.
She shook her head. "I just...I don't know if I can trust him. Anyone."
"Well, as I see it, you can either have people earn your trust, show you that they're worthy. Or, you can simply chose to give it to them until they prove themselves unworthy. I can't tell you what the best way is, but the second one is generally quicker. And I'm an impatient person." She shrugged.
Who would have ever thought that Trish would be the voice of reason.
Trish started unpacking before she continued the interview.
"Oh, so how was bartending?"
That freaking bar. Their drunken dancing, the first time they kissed, all the other times they kissed, how amazing it was to kiss him...
It all started at that bar, at least the physical aspects of their relationship.
Oh, how she already missed the physical aspect of their relationship. Like a lot.
She smiled. "The Bar was...good."
"You're not telling me the whole story."
"Well, I kind of performed a song there with Austin."
Her friend didn't say anything, apparently flabbergasted to the point of muteness.
She wasn't entirely sure that that had ever happened before.
A minute passed.
"YOU? YOU performed a song? Like in front of people?" Trish sounded as if she was short on air.
She nodded. "Yeah. And actually, it was one of my songs."
"Wow." Still in utter disbelief.
"Yeah..."
And it hit her how much he had influenced her. It had been a race of a week, but she started to think that racing was kind of fun.
It was taking her breath away, but in a good way.
Slow was comfortable, but she was yearning for excitement.
Speed.
Movement.
She had changed. She had gone from desperately trying to forget things that she didn't want to remember to desperately trying to forget things that she wanted to remember.
The past week had been amazing, the positive newly-made memories greatly outnumbering the few heart-breaking ones.
She had spent the week living, not just being alive. And she had enjoyed it.
"Sounds like he made you move on more in one week than you or I have been able to do in months."
All she could do was nod.
"I'm off to the library, I have a paper due tomorrow."
Of course.
Trish. Queen of procrastination.
"Will you be ok?"
She knew that Trish's concern was genuine.
She nodded again.
Her friend turned around when exiting through door, as if she just realized something.
"And Ally?"
"Yeah?"
"You didn't sleep with him on my bed, did you?"
She shook her head. "Nobody will ever make me touch that cheetah."
...
He hit the sidewalk, hiding in a raincoat when things were falling apart.
He hadn't slept much, dozing of for a couple of hours in the early morning as his body finally gave in to the stubborn natural cycle that he was futilely trying to ignore.
His head was pounding, and he hadn't even dared to look at himself in the mirror.
He probably looked like shit. But it didn't matter.
He was determined.
He had things that needed to be done.
No more fear.
He had nothing to be scared of any more.
He logged the light cardboard box through the drizzling raindrops, a small suddenly non-scary umbrella protecting it from unwanted moisture.
He was ready.
It was time to close some doors.
...
As she showered, she felt her body coming alive, as if some of her dreary mood was washing down the drain and in a weird way, she realized that she almost felt better. Perhaps, the strong winds from the previous night had blown some of her shoulder-residing ghosts away.
Or maybe, just maybe, talking about the ghosts had reduced their weight substantially.
Who would have known?
Well, probably every decent therapist around.
But whatever.
It was as if the shower cleaned her eyes a bit, too, because her vision was suddenly a little less blurry.
Yes, she needed to work through some things. She knew she wanted to be alone, but with him, and she knew it made no sense and she didn't care.
Ambivalence was clearly the mood of the day.
Grey ambivalence.
And she got the sudden impulse to go and see him.
Just to check in.
She got dressed quickly and walked towards his room enthusiastically. It was as if she had acquired a balloon of hope, or maybe, courage, and said balloon was slowly inflating a bit more with each passing minute.
She sat down in the girls lounge for a few minutes before the balloon had inflated to its full capacity, then continuing her journey to his floor.
She knocked on his door, hesitantly at first but more eagerly with each bang.
It took her a minute to process that he wasn't there.
He wasn't there.
Damn it.
She walked back towards her prison cell, once again feeling a bit deflated.
She just really wanted to see him.
And then she did.
She spotted him outside through the hallway window.
He was with Barbie.
Flashbacks from the previous week instantly popped into her head.
His laugh, his magnetism...she had been drawn to him before she had even met him.
Today, however, he wasn't laughing, and his over six feet frame somehow managed to look small.
She watched as he handed the blonde a small cardboard box, most likely her belongings as she could see something resembling a rolled up poster sticking out of the top of it, as Barbie was shaking her head.
He was clearly saying goodbye to his past.
Maybe it was time for her to attempt to do the same.
The former couple outside hugged briefly, and then he walked away by himself as Barbie's shoulders were shaking from her increasingly hardening sobs.
She couldn't blame her. She had just spent the last 12 hours crying over losing the same man.
There was one major difference between them, though.
Blondie had lost him against her will.
She had let him go.
Who was the stupid one now.
He walked off towards his car, getting in and driving off before she had a chance to even move from her window peeking position.
...
She returned to her own hallway, and almost tripped on a small cardboard box situated outside her door.
It was taped closed, a single word scribbled on top.
Pickle.
It was from him.
He must have dropped it off when she was in the lounge inflating her balloon.
Her emotions were running wild.
Confused. Scared. Petrified, even.
Was this her belongings? Was this his way of showing her that he was following her instructions and forgetting about her?
She almost hyperventilated. Again.
Although, come to think of it, she couldn't recall leaving anything in his possession.
Except, maybe whatever was left of her heart and the majority of her sanity.
Something told her that those things wouldn't fit into that small box, though.
She felt like a child on Christmas morning, excited yet scared that the content of the box wouldn't be what she was hoping for.
And her feelings were much further complicated by the fact that she didn't know what she was hoping for.
And then she took a deep breath and opened it.
There was a small note on top.
She unfolded it slowly, a harsh contrast to the speed of her heart.
Ally,
I thought of hundreds of things that I could do to show you that you are wrong and that we are right. But in the end I realized that the decision is only yours. It's up to you to write your own life, your own future. I can't decide what or who will be in it.
All I can do is give you some supplies.
I was told that this was the best brand.
Love.
Always.
- Austin
She moved her tear-filled eyes to the content of the box.
There were a few things scattered inside of it.
A box of tubes of superglue. Most likely enough to last years, if not a lifetime.
For that broken heart of hers.
A gas card. Enough to fill up her car for a lengthy, necessary drive.
Her drive home.
A blank notebook with a pack of Sharpies. To write the next chapter.
Her future.
Mistake free or not was up to her, but the result would inescapably be permanent.
...
She decided to go for a walk, hoping that the outside air would clear out her jumbled head.
She wasn't sure of her destination.
The rain had now subsided from pouring to barely noticeable, as if the weather gods were tailoring their work of art after her haphazard mood swings.
She walked passed the parking lot and had to do a double take. Was that his car parked in the parking lot?
She had seen him drive off not long ago. She must be seeing things.
She walked closer. Nope, she was right. That was his car.
Her whole body turned floppy, like her legs were made out of the spaghetti she had made him less than a week but more than a lifetime ago.
As she walked even closer, she spotted a mess of something blond in the driver's seat,
a blotch of sunshine-colored light in her otherwise darkened world.
And suddenly she knew exactly where she was going.
He was resting his hands on the steering wheel, his head on top of his hands, moving slightly back and forth as if he was thinking or perhaps internally debating.
She knocked hesitantly on the side window and he looked up, smiling tiredly when he saw her and the sun broke through her mental clouds, almost as if he was her actual sunshine, making her happy when skies were grey.
He pointed to the passenger seat and she walked around the car, opening the door and climbing in.
"Hey". Her voice was shaking a little.
"Hey". His voice was shaking a little.
They were just looking at each other, two sets of exhausted eyes melting into each other for who knows how long.
He had taught her not to judge a book by its cover, so she was currently not judging his cover but admiring it. His hair was disshelved, his smile produced dimples clearly missing in action, and she noticed the bags under his eyes. Guilt flooded through her, as she realized that he had most likely spent the night in misery closely resembling her own.
Regardless, though, it was a perfect book cover. A visual masterpiece, even.
And yet it didn't remotely compare to the inside content.
Not even close.
He noticed that she looked like she had been crying a lot, and he felt worse than ever because for once he understood how she felt.
And he also knew, that this time around, he did have something to do with it.
Damn it.
Why couldn't she just see that they were perfect for each other?
How was he supposed to pretend that he didn't know that?
She ended the few minutes of eye-piercing silence.
"I went by your room earlier, but you weren't there."
He smiled, sadly, trying to conceal his utter happiness over the fact that she had apparently been looking for him.
"I had a few things to do."
She nodded.
She wasn't ready to talk about his box. "What are you doing here?"
He laughed but it didn't sound real. "I'm not sure. But I can tell you what I'm not doing. I'm not going to see my dad. FUCK." He slammed his hands against the steering wheel.
"I started driving there but I couldn't do it, I had to turn back around."
"How far is it?"
"It's about an hour north. For me. Probably three hours for you."
And she laughed for the first time since her old life, aka before breaking it off with him.
"You can do it."
He shook his head as he turned to look at her.
"No, I really don't think so."
"Yes, you can."
"I need you, Pickle. There's no way I can make it without you. I can't do it without you."
He meant in life but let her believe that he meant the drive to his father's house.
His sincerity made her heart sing and cry at the same time.
He needed her for a change.
"Then I'm coming with you." She shrugged as if saying that it was no big deal.
But they both knew it was.
And he didn't even question her before he had started the car and pulled out of the full parking lot.
They drove in silence, because although he had a million and one things to say, none of his thoughts were currently materializing into actual words. He didn't allow his mind's constant questioning of what this meant for them to dampen his utter joy of having her with him. She suddenly reached and turned up the radio, shaking her head in beat to the music. And he smiled again, because she was adorable and sad but adorable and he wanted to hug her and squeeze her and kiss her and make love to her, but if none of that was possible, he would settle for just being with her. Around her.
...
His house was huge, almost intimidatingly so. She hadn't pictured it and she quickly realized that his father was unquestionably a wealthy man.
She didn't know why that surprised her so much, possibly because the stereotype she had of rich people was one of being stuck-up or rude, and well, Austin was anything but.
Don't judge a book by its cover.
Right.
They approached the huge wooden entrance doors, and he stalled.
"You're nervous". She wasn't asking.
He nodded. "My dad is used to getting what he wants."
She grabbed his hand, and he looked at her in surprise over the sudden and obviously unexpected body contact. His eyes met hers, and whatever he saw in there clearly changed his mood as he gave her a small smile before they approached the door.
His mother opened, extending her hand with a warm smile on her face.
"Mom, this is my friend Pi...Ally. This is m... Ally."
He knew he had already given it away. His mother was very perceptive. She already knew he was deeply in love with his friend, her delighted smile giving away her train of thoughts.
"Ally, this is my mom."
"Nice to meet you Mrs. Moon."
"Ally, I've heard so much about you. And please call me Mimi".
He was confused for a second as he hadn't told his mom anything about Pickle. Yet.
Anna.
Right.
He should have known that his sister would engage in her signature blabber-mouthing.
His dad joined them from upstairs, introducing himself and she had a difficult time seeing where Austin's apparent intimidation was coming from. His dad reminded her of a teddy bear. Well, maybe not a regular one, perhaps more like one that had a hidden camera inside or something.
Sweet but observant.
"Dad, I...we need to talk." She could tell that he was still nervous.
His dad smiled at both of them.
"Son, you brought company and we're going to have a nice lunch. We can talk afterwards."
Lunch was served and the conversation was light, easy-going, touching upon school and sports and they made her feel right at home.
She really liked his parents.
She noticed that she caught his eyes from across the table more often then not throughout the lunch, and she noticed that his parents noticed too.
Once the food was finished, Austin excused himself as he followed his dad upstairs, and within minutes she could hear their voices gradually increasing from a low murmur to almost outright shouting.
She looked around nervously, not sure of what to do.
It was as if Mimi could sense her anxiety as she quietly began speaking.
"My son is an amazing person. I know I'm his mother, and I know I'm supposed to think so, but I also know that you happen to agree with me. He's determined, once he has set his eyes on something he doesn't give up. I'm pretty sure that's exactly what's going on up there right now. Don't worry. There is nothing in this life that my husband loves more than his children. He will come around. I think one of the reasons Austin is successful at almost anything he does is because he is truly his father's son. But he's also a dreamer, and I think that what sets him apart is his determination to chase his dreams. Sometimes the dreams work out, and sometimes they don't, but as I see it, you have to have dreams because without them you're nothing but a shell."
She nodded in almost stunned agreement. It was easy to see why Austin was such an amazing person. She sometimes questioned the old "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree", but in this case it made sense.
He was surely a grade A apple from a beautiful tree.
"And Ally, I'm also pretty sure he has his eyes set on you."
Her cheeks were burning.
"I don't know, it's complicated, there's some...I have some...history...to work through ..."
Mimi nodded in understanding. "I understand. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. Life isn't a fairy tale. Just promise me that you don't let your...history...define you, don't let it become who you are. It's very clear to me that my son cares a lot about you."
Austin entered, interrupting their conversation, figurative smoke coming out of his nose and she realized it was time to go.
Clearly, so did his mother as she stood and embraced her.
"Ally, it was so nice to meet you. I hope, I know, that we will see a lot more of each other."
And they hugged tightly before she followed him outside.
They got in the car and started driving, and she could tell that he was still fuming.
"Do you regret going?"
He was quiet for a few minutes.
"No. It was a band-aid that needed to be ripped."
"Any bleeding?"
Lots, but all of it caused by her. His wound was healing a little as he was spending time with her, but he knew the newly formed scab would be pulled away once he had to say bye to her again.
"No. Just a slight rash. I'll be ok."
They drove the rest of the way back in semi-comfortable silence, making the return drive a bit faster, possibly because he was taking out his frustrations on the gas pedal.
They approached campus and she felt that she had to say something.
"Your dad loves you a lot, you know."
"I know."
"I'm so glad you did it. I'm..I'm proud of you."
"Me too." And he smiled.
It took him a few minutes before he found parking outside the dorm, and then they walked towards the dorm together.
She was proud of him. He was chasing his dreams. And for some reason, as they hugged goodbye in the lobby, she knew, just knew, that one day, whether it was soon or after years of hard work, he was going to make it.
Big.
"Ally, thank you for coming with me...I...couldn't have done it without you." His voice was a goosebump-creating whisper in her ear.
She wanted to stay in his arms for the rest of the day and into forever.
"I got the box. I...thank you, it was amazing and I..."
Her voice broke off and he didn't know what to say because he wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to live and he knew he wasn't allowed to and it killed him.
"Thank you, I see you around." And he let go of her and turned to leave because he had to .
"Austin..." She wasn't sure of what she wanted to say. "Don't be a stranger, ok?"
He looked at her as he smiled, sadly. "I wasn't planning on it..." and the low noise of his shoes walking away from her sounded like the ending soundtrack of a sad movie that she had no interest in watching.
She wanted a happy ending, damn it.
In more ways than one.
...
As she walked towards the cafeteria with Trish in the late afternoon, she couldn't help but acknowledge the pain in her left chest region as she recalled how they had agreed to go there together.
She sighed, loudly, unintentionally so, and Trish looked at her with an expression that she was all too familiar with. Her roommate didn't need to speak to tell her that she only had herself to blame for her current state of mind. If she would translate Trish's stare into one sentence it would be "You're a fucking idiot."
As if she didn't know that already.
She spotted him from across the dining hall and she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. He was with some of the other basketball players.
They settled on a table not too far away and Trish went to get some food as she stayed put, suddenly not hungry. Trish returned with a tray of food, shaking her head.
"Are you going to stop eye fucking him anytime soon or do I have to move to another table? I'm losing my appetite."
"Fine. I'm going to get something to eat."
Trish's bluntness really shouldn't surprise or embarrass her anymore.
She viewed the food selection with the excitement of someone picking out an outfit for a funeral.
Why had she missed the cafeteria again?
She served herself some salad and when she turned around, she ran into him. Literally. He knocked over her tray, the salad dressing hitting her shirt and neck, and she knew she probably looked like the mess she was.
She couldn't do anything but laugh and his heart healed and broke at the same time, because her laughing was the only thing he wanted in life, but seeing her do it made him miss her even more.
They were close, face to chest. She had never felt smaller in her entire life.
Her whole body responded to his presence, her heart hammering, her legs jellying, her head spinning, her breath shortening.
She had been nervous from afar. Now he was here, right in front of her, six feet of heaven about six inches away, and she might as well be buried six feet under.
He wanted to lick the dressing off of her neck, he could feel his taste buds come alive, not from the thought of the taste of the dressing itself, but from the thought of the taste of her skin.
"Sorry. I just wanted to say hi." His smile was a lot less sad than earlier.
It was almost back to being contagious.
"Hi". And she knew her smile was void of sadness as well.
The dressing was dripping down her neck.
"Im sorry, but I think I have to go back and change."
"Can I walk with you?" He knew he sounded too eager but he didn't care.
His already fragile heart was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode if she declined.
But she didn't, she nodded shyly.
The sunshine was hitting their faces as they strolled back towards the dorm.
He had to fight the urge to hold her hand. Multiple times.
She really wished he would hold her hand.
And there, on the small pathway with the sunshine almost blinding her, she started to see things more clearly than she had in a long time.
He wasn't her savior, no hero, he was human, flesh and blood. He wasn't necessary for her to breath, she didn't need him.
He wasn't her air, not a band-aid, no crutch.
He was her glasses, making her see things more clearly.
She could and would function without him.
But her vision would be blurry and she simply wouldn't enjoy the view as much.
Without him, she was alive, healthy, but half-blind. Half-living.
And suddenly, her hindsight was 20/20.
She loved him.
It had been fast, but then again, she had always heard that you fall in love when you least expect it. And she clearly had not expected to spend her non-thinking, solitary break falling in love.
What was that saying? Right, life is what happens while you are busy making other plans. Or rather, in her case, busy making non-plans.
He walked her to her door and he once again leaned in, as he had done a few days prior, maybe out of habit or possibly out of wishful thinking, then pulled away when realizing what he was doing.
She didn't hesitate but pulled him in, urgently, grabbing his plaid shirt by fistfuls and slamming her mouth against his, his tongue soon in her mouth and her back pressed into her wooden door. The kiss was nowhere near as sweet as she had envisioned it and her body was responding accordingly, almost as if his tongue in her mouth created a secret shortcut to her...private parts, opening the in his presence barely kept together floodgates.
He let his tongue run against her neck, cleaning her from the drops of dressing, and despite him cleaning her up, she couldn't recall a time when she had felt dirtier.
Was that her moaning?
A familiar, loud clear-throating shortened what surely would have been a lengthy make-out session.
"I'm sorry for interrupting whatever...this is. Truly. That was...gross."
He broke away, reluctantly, and he didn't even look the slightest bit ashamed.
She was pretty sure she did, though.
"Trish, this is Austin."
"Austin, this is Trish."
They shook hands before he said an awkward goodbye and turned around, starting to walk towards his room.
She entered her room with Trish trailing closely behind.
"So I see that you changed your mind." Trish's voice was both teasing and amused.
She sighed. "I don't think I can stay away from him."
"I don't blame you. And I don't know why you feel you should."
Funny, she couldn't recall either.
And then she opened the door, running after him down the hallway, catching up to him as he was about to climb the stairway.
She was panting. She was not a runner.
They just looked at each other for a few seconds and she almost forgot why she had chased him down as all she really wanted to do was to continue their make-out session.
"How about that date?" She was still breathing heavily but she wasn't entirely sure that it was just from running anymore.
"Really?" Contagious smile.
"Really."
"Dinner?" and she nodded.
...
He couldn't remember a time that he had been more nervous. Or excited.
Small fireballs of anxious excitement were shooting through his system.
Rapidly.
This was to be his biggest show to date, and the most challenging one, as he was performing in front of a large audience of one, his toughest critique, and all he could do was to hope that she would like it, like him, enough to stick around for a few more performances.
They met outside the lobby and he couldn't for the life of him process what she was wearing because all he could think of was that he was finally taking her out on a real date.
They walked towards his car when she suddenly stopped.
"Are you hungry?"
He shook her head. "Not really. You?"
"No. You want to do something else?"
He nodded. "Let's go for a walk?"
They moved towards the empty beach, the absence of words saying everything that needed to be said.
It had turned into a beautiful evening, the sunset painting the sky in half of the rainbow.
They settled on the rocks where she had been writing a few days earlier and she realized that he was holding something.
"I brought you this" and he handed her the notebook that she had gotten for him.
"I want you to read it. I got to read yours, it's only fair."
She flipped through the pages. The book was nearly full.
"You wrote all of this in the last few days?"
He nodded. "I've been oddly inspired as of late."
She knew the feeling.
She started to read and she was blown away.
He was a much more talented song writer than he gave himself credit for.
"Austin, this is amazing."
"That one is about you. Well, they all are."
She stared at him in disbelief. "About me? But I'm nothing, I..."
He interrupted her, almost angrily. "You may think you're nothing but to me you're everything. I'd do anything for you. I'll jump of a fucking bridge with you if you ask me too, but the one thing I won't do, I can't do, is push you into the water."
She swallowed hard as she understood what he meant.
She reached for something in her purse. "Actually, I have something for you too" and she handed him a small tube.
Oh God.
Was she planning in breaking it off, completely? Must be, or why else would she give him symbolic, heart-repairing superglue?
Fuck. How could he have misread her like that? He could have sworn that she was well on her way to changing her mind and...
"Austin, I...I...think I'm ready to dive in from that bridge, head first, I trust you not to let me end up with a head injury."
He just stared at her. What was she saying?
She continued. "Next time I get scared, next time I make irrational decisions, just use this and glue yourself to me. Don't let me go."
He handed it back in a heartbeat. "I don't need it. Im already stuck on you. Like glue."
And the kiss on the beach with a sunset backdrop may be cliche, but that didn't make it any less perfect.
She was still scared. And scarred. And she was still bleeding a little.
But she wanted him. Oh, she wanted him.
She wasn't yet exactly sure of what she was wanted to put in her own, new notebook. But she knew exactly who she wanted to put in there.
They strolled back, hand-holdingly, nervously stalling in the lobby as neither of them wanted to let go of each other.
"Can I kiss you goodbye?" He sounded hopeful and she shook her head.
"I'm not ready for that".
He laughed as he understood what she meant. "Fine, can I kiss you hello?" and she nodded vigorously as his lips met hers.
She broke away. "Is your weird roommate back?"
He shook his head. "Not until tomorrow, he has a policy of always skipping the first day of classes. After any break."
She smiled and he realized why she had asked. "Do you...do you want to stay with me tonight? I just want to hold you."
"That's sweet. But I don't want you to just hold me."
And as they made their way to his room there was no more talking.
And once they got to his room, there was no more talking either.
There was just him, and her, and nakedness and kissing and touching and mind-blowing togetherness. The sex was both urgent and sweet, as if his dick suffered from multiple personality disorder and couldn't make up its mind whether he wanted to make sweet love to her or passionately fuck her hard into the morning.
Perhaps it was make-up sex, or maybe reunited after break-up sex, or maybe I love you sex, but most likely it was a combination of it all.
They laid there in each other's arms afterwards, content, happy, complete.
And when he was sure that she was still wide awake, he whispered a loud "I love you" into her ear, because he was tired of relaying on the universe and was now taking matters into his own hands. Yes, it was probably still too early. And no, he didn't care, because it was the ultimate truth and he had vowed to always be honest with her.
She turned to face him, the outside full moon reflecting in her soul-deep eyes and without hesitation, she returned his words to him, because in that moment, she was unsure of whether he was a cage or a house or, perhaps yet again, a tower, but couldn't care less because the one thing she was sure of was that her heart was his newfound residence, and his heart was, without a question, her home.
Epilogue: Monday & Mornings
The knock on the door was loud and urgent.
She opened, flustered, immediately being pulled into a kiss that she hadn't expected but truly didn't mind.
"I've missed you." He sounded as if she hadn't seen her forever.
"I just left you room like five minutes ago." She couldn't help but laugh.
"Well, that's like four and a half minutes too long."
"You're a dork" and she kissed him again, knowing that the break may be over but they were anything but.
"Ready for class?" and she nodded.
They walked past the parking lot, now completely full.
"Pickle?" He sounded mischievous.
Fuck. She still hadn't found a nickname for him that would stick.
"Yeah?"
"Do you have anything important to do today?"
"You mean other than attend the classes that I'm paying an arm and a leg for?"
"Yeah"
"Nope"
"Want to go for a ride? A day-trip? Use that gas card?"
She swallowed hard as there was no questioning his intended destination.
She wasn't ready. And if it was up to her, she may never be.
But with him by her side, she could do anything.
She nodded, hesitantly, heart-in-her-throatily, but a nod all the same.
They walked towards her car, hand in hand, heart in heart, her smiling because she was finally brave.
And as the majority of the student body reported back to class after the break, the future Mrs. Moon and her knight in Sun-shining armor drove off to unitedly confront the last of the lingering ghosts from her messy past.
It was time to finally take care of that long overdue Spring cleaning.
My next multi-chapter will be up shortly. It's called "The Nanny" and if you're interested in reading it, keep an eye open or follow me on twitter fridaf1206.