Ally nodded, and they started playing again. Moments later, their hands touched. It wasn't accidental this time. Austin's entire hand had covered hers for a moment, pressed the key for her, and then pulled away.
Why did he do this to her? Was he trying to break her heart?
"Let's take a break from piano," she said, gently. "Let's sit on the couch and talk about lyrics, okay?"
They talked about lyrics until Austin began to yawn. It was almost two o' clock in the morning, and Ally told him to take a nap while she worked on the piano part. Austin stretched out on the couch, his long legs taking up the entire space. He yawned and blinked his eyes slowly, but he didn't fall asleep. He watched her play piano.
Ally felt self-conscious. "Am I keeping you awake?"
"No," he said, sleepily. "I like watching you play. I like it when you sing, too."
Ally looked up, shyly. "You want me to sing?"
He nodded, and Ally began to sing. She played and sang until his eyes closed and his chest rose and fell with steady breaths. He had fallen asleep.
Ally played a little bit longer. Then she walked over to the couch and sat down next to Austin. She wanted to put her hand on his chest and feel him breathe, feel his heartbeat thumping away. There was something about Austin that was so dependable. His heart was always beating. His smile always came easily to him. He was always kind. He always had rips in his jeans and calluses on his hands. He always closed his eyes when he sang a sad song, his voice always cracked in the morning when he'd first woken up. He always felt good to the touch. He always had pretty brown eyes. He always hugged her like he meant it.
I'll always love you, she thought.