From Eden

by OverwhelmedAndTerrified

They'd only truly met 2 days ago and already her eyes were begging him to, please, show her how to live with such pain.

9. Chapter 9

Holy shit this is it. This is the last chapter everyone. It kind of feels like my baby is all grown up. This was my very first legitimate multi-chapter fic and I'm kinda freaking out a little that it's finished. This whole process was never just about the story, it was always about how yall receive the story and I have to thank everyone who read it whether you reviewed it or not. Thank you so much from….everything, the bottom of my heart, the keys on my laptop, the ideas in my brain, everything. Now I don't want to get all English teacher on you but I would love to hear how you guys thought I did interpreting the lyrics of the song and translating them into each chapter. Could I have done a better job with that? How? I've never written anything based on a song before and now I kind of adore the idea and would love to try it again. To ArtistRenegade21, I so appreciate how loyally you've reviewed this story. I feel like you must be a creative soul to not only recognize the value in leaving a review but to also be so understanding about my writer's block. Your comment made me feel way less shitty about taking so long to update so thank you for that. To Rainbow, I'm so glad you trusted me not to abandon the story because things weren't looking so good for a while there lol. Okay so I saw that you re-read my story 6 times and then I had a heart attack from happiness so should I send you my medical bill oooorrrr…? To LauraHernandez, okay first, ummm what link? On Twitter? Who recommended? Whaaaaa? Please explain I have so many questions! And second, the fact that you love Hozier's song automatically makes you one of the coolest people on the planet *pulls out bucket of cool points* *makes it rain*. To LuckyStarz910, yeeeaaaahhh I know Austin can be a little much sometimes huh. For the record I was also a little alarmed by the way he spoke to Mimi but then I remembered that he's been bottling all of this anger up since he was 11! That's 12 years! That combined with the fact that he grew up in an abusive household has made him….let's say less than well-adjusted. So recognizing love, respecting his mother, expressing emotions, are all things he hasn't really had the chance to become fluent in. But yeah I get where you're coming from and I hope my explanation (and this chapter) make you less irritated :). If yall have any burning questions about the story after this then feel free to message me. Alrighty kids here we go. The conclusion.

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"I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door." (Part 2)

They ambushed him the second he walked into the hotel room. Austin was hit in the face so hard with one of those big exercise balls that it knocked him right back out and onto the dirty hallway floor. He landed on his spine with unrelenting force as his shades went skittering off somewhere. The guys couldn't have given less of a shit as they descended on him like wild animals, each one armed with 2 cans of silly string. He just laid there, curled up in the fetal position with his hands cupped over his aching nose, contemplating which of his many emotions to process. He was pissed the fuck off first and foremost; only because his face hurt like hell and his sunglasses were probably broken. But then there was amusement and humiliation cresting over his anger like a sunrise, bright and almost as neon as the stringy gunk burying him on that filthy hotel carpet, because the guys were all shouting at him, screaming words of welcome peppered with profanity. They would be laughing at this for weeks to come and he didn't possess the will power to keep a blush at bay. Austin was embarrassed and yet he really wouldn't have it any other way. The other 3 members of Flesh & Bone didn't give him the whole 'you poor thing' routine. No, when one of their own was in a shitty state of mind, the rest rallied together, reminding him to man up, take some shots, rock out, and get over it. So Austin held his hands over his face and let the silly string imprison him. He stifled a laugh and stopped caring about his shattered Ray Bans and let the sound of his bandmates' raucous laughter pop his eardrums because the pain and the humiliation were, oddly, exactly what he needed.

He'd expected to be thrilled as Roxanne carried him past the outskirts of Miami once again, but it wasn't relief coursing through every blood vessel in his body. Something greyer and colder possessed him because he wasn't just vacating his childhood hellhole, he was leaving Ally behind and, somehow, she'd become the oasis in a desert of unlivable conditions. So to sit there staring down that long, vacant stretch of highway between him and One Hundred Amps struck Austin with a sense of loneliness and regret. He recognized the feelings because they'd gripped him just the same way 7 years ago as he stared out of a bus window and watched Miami shrink in the distance. Almost immediately the new runaway had wanted to get off and go crawling back to something miserable just because it was familiar. God, he'd cried so much that day. The fear of the vast unknown clutched him tighter than his father ever had. But he'd drawn a deep breath into his young lungs, then another, then another, until Florida finally transitioned into Georgia and there was no turning back. If 16 year old Austin could remain strong and resist the fear, then 23 year old Austin, with his brain still clinging to the Dawson's driveway, could certainly continue gunning Roxy up the interstate. He did 85 mph, practically throwing miles between himself and his hometown.

The drive from Miami to Atlanta was 9 hours of that single question haunting him. Will I be alright without her? He passed through rolling countrysides and muggy swamps and salty beach towns, all the while allowing himself to think about Ally and seriously contemplate that burning query because it was painful but cathartic. Would he be alright without her? The answer seemed obvious. After all, he'd lived 23 Allyson-less years already. Sure, that near quarter of a century hadn't been all ice cream and daisies but he had survived, even found success. But that didn't stop the blonde son of Mike and Mimi from pulling into an abandoned gas station just 5 minutes outside of Live Oak, Florida and snorting 2 white lines off of an old McDonald's receipt because, all at once, thoughts of minty green nails and tiny shoulder tattoos were breaching his brain's capacity. After the fireworks crackled away and the sound waves dissipated, a euphoria filled him from top to bottom. He was high for approximately 45 minutes, jamming out to ZZ Top's breakthrough album "Tres Hombres" and singing at the top of his lungs. When Roxy finally crossed the Georgia state line, Austin was no longer up in the clouds but he wasn't deep in the pit of despair either. He was officially in music mode, rocking out to his favorite classics and mentally running through Flesh & Bone's set list as he traversed the "Peach State". It occupied his mind enough to completely forego all thoughts of Ally. And around 7 PM, when he finally cruised those final blocks into the traffic jammed hub of Atlanta, a conflicting combination of belonging and loneliness barreled into him like a tank. He welcomed both though because he'd never really had one without the other anyway.

"It's about time you fucking showed up!" Jace laughed as the silly string cans ran empty and the cavalry retreated.

"Fuuuuuuck I hate you guys." Austin groaned as he carefully uncurled himself and checked his nostrils for blood.

"You're fine don't be a pussy." Dez chuckled as he grabbed the blonde's hand and hoisted him up just a little too fast. Austin wavered a bit but still managed a grin.

"Fuck you. How about you assholes find my fucking shades and bring my bags in."

He finally staggered into the hotel room, but not before receiving a playful but firm shove to his back. Still chuckling, he ignored it, focusing instead on applying gentle pressure up the bridge of his nose with his fingertips.

"That went better than I thought it would." An unfamiliar female voice spoke, stopping him in his tracks.

Austin cleared some of the silly string from where it hung in his face. There were 4 complete strangers scattered about the room. They just stared. One guy gave a timid little wave.

"Who're you?" Austin resumed the careful probing of his aching nose.

But before they could reply, Jace, Dez, Tucker, and Gavin came in with his luggage, the giant exercise ball, and the broken remnants of his Ray Bans.

"Oh hey Aus these are 'The Awkwardians' remember the group I was telling you about?" The redhead asked, setting the ball down between the bed and the wall.

"Yeah." Austin nodded as his ginger bestfriend started pointing around the room.

"Well that's Rae. Lead vocals." he gestured toward a black girl with a lion's mane of midnight curls. She was sitting on one of the double beds, scrolling through her phone with her legs crossed. She looked at him with eyes so big and brown that Austin's heart almost threw itself into that distinct flutter….almost. He nodded at her and she gave him a friendly smile.

Jace and Gavin took his bags towards the other other half of their 4 bed suite while Tucker sat on the room's standard writing desk.

"This is Mulaney. He does vocals and guitar." Dez pointed to a muscular guy sitting next to Rae with possibly the most glorious chestnut brown manbun and beard combo he'd ever seen.

"What's up." The hairy-faced musician greeted him and Austin nodded again.

"That's Michael, bassist and all around asshole." Dez teased.

"Hey fuck you." A handsome latino playfully flipped the bird before turning to Austin and sticking out his hand, "Hey how's it going man."

"Hey what's up." Austin replied, shaking his hand.

"And this…." Dezmond Wade ungracefully plopped into the lap of a pretty blonde seated in a nearby armchair, "…is Cara. Drummer."

"Hi." She waved at him.

"Hey." He replied with a hint of a smirk because he could tell that if Dez and miss Cara hadn't fucked yet they were one 20 minute window of privacy away from doing so. He thought about Trish's notorious jealousy and shook his head with a chuckle. If only she could see how her little ginger snap was behaving.

"Shut up." Reading his mind, Dez pointed a warning finger at him.

Austin just laughed and continued to scrape silly string from his shirt and hair. He wasn't sure if he should mention that he was only familiar with one of The Awkwardians' songs. He had a tendency to be brutally honest when it came to music and didn't want to risk offending the group by telling them how mediocre he thought "Anxiety" or "Anxious" was. So he kind of just maneuvered around the topic.

"You guys have a show tonight?" he asked.

"No we had one earlier today to make up for that whole sound debacle on Friday." Rae rolled her eyes, "So we've got nothing going on tonight. Thought we'd just hang out backstage while you guys went on."

"That might come off easier if you let it dry first." Cara suggested, referring to the brightly colored gunk still covering him. She wrapped her arms around Dez's waist.

"Nope!" Jace came back into the main room, "No time for that, we have soundcheck in T-minus 20 minutes."

"Are you serious?" Austin's eyebrows rose in disbelief, "I was gonna pass out for an hour before the show."

"Tough shit." he replied, pulling a grey bomber jacket on over his army green tee, "You've missed a bunch of shows and now it's time to go to work. I don't want to have to bring Tuck's shitty ass up on stage anymore."

The 17 year old threw an unused hotel notepad at his older cousin as everyone laughed. Being well below the drinking age meant Tucker was always left alone in the hotel room while the guys went out. And, to make matters worse, at some point he'd become the official target for every joke or prank his temporary bandmates could think up. For the past few days his only consolation had been standing onstage, playing for hundreds of screaming girls. That silver living had immediately vanished with Austin's arrival. He threw a small handful of pens at his still laughing cousin.

"Are we driving?" Austin asked, "The traffic was insane when I came in."

"No we've just been walking everywhere." Dez replied, "It takes like 10 minutes to get to the venue."

The blonde sighed because he was running on 4 hours of sleep and a coke high that had ended a long time ago.

"Alright I'll be ready in a sec I gotta take a leak and change my clothes." He headed in the direction of the second bedroom area where they'd taken his suitcase.

"Oh what the fuck Gavin!?"

Austin watched the very unmanly sight unfold before him with annoyance and the slightest amusement. There on one of the double beds, sitting indian style with a fat grey British Shorthair in his lap, was Flesh & Bone's bassist, hand feeding his spoiled cat and making baby talk just under his breath.

Instead of changing his outfit, Austin stayed in the bathroom a little longer to remove as much of the silly string as he could. On finally reemerging, he only rummaged through his suitcase for something to keep him awake.

The two bands walked over to the venue together. Austin had a baggy of coke in his jacket pocket but by the time they arrived at their designated stage for sound check he knew he wouldn't need it. There was so much electricity in the atmosphere he thought lightning might come shooting down from the cloudless night and fry him. It buzzed like a beehive and he felt the vibrations bounce about his lungs with every breath. As they approached the park everything intensified. Traffic, both on the sidewalk and in the street, grew thicker, the sound of multiple bands rocking out filled the air, and Austin's excitement bloomed wide because he was finally there. He hadn't even gotten on stage yet, he hadn't even shown the crowds what he was capable of yet, but just transitioning from the concrete sidewalk to the lush grass of Piedmont Park's One Hundred Amps rock festival incited this natural high in him, as if he was completely shit-faced on anticipation alone. He could hardly focus on whatever Dez was saying beside him as both bands navigated the dense crowds. All he cared about was keeping a tight grip on the guitar case in his hand and savoring every chaotic second. They moved through throngs of leather jackets and scantily clad women, whooping drunks and dancing bodies, lively stages and busy vendors. They passed by a guy selling concert tees, one of which had the Flesh & Bone logo, and Austin nearly lost. his. fucking. shit.

"Okay let's make this quick." Some dark haired guy with an iPad and a headset addressed them as their combined group approached an empty stage from the side. "Uuuhhh…" he scanned the tablet rapidly, "Awkwardians can hang out backstage that's fine and FB we need mic checks and any changes you've made in the set list."

Gavin stayed behind to discuss the few tweaks and suggestions Austin made as the rest of the bands headed to where they were supposed to be.

Sound check went off without a hitch because how could it not? Austin was primed and ready and the rest of the guys could sense that.

"Alright everything's peachy you can head backstage now. You're on in 10." Headset guy informed them, never looking up from the all-important iPad.

And holy shit if those weren't some of the longest minutes of Austin's young life. The guys joined The Awkwardians backstage, sitting around and chatting it up. But F & B's frontman couldn't help standing in the wings. His brown eyes watched the crowd multiply before him as the seconds ticked down to showtime. He felt himself growing wild with anticipation. He was fidgety, he was giddy, and he suddenly wondered why he ever bothered with coke anymore when even just the promise of performing could leave him tweaked out of his mind.

"Flesh & Bone! 2 minutes to showtime!" this time a headset girl was calling out instructions, eyes glued to the tablet in her hands, "When you hear the introduction then head out. It ain't rocket science."

And then she was gone, off handling something else. And Austin finally joined the rest of both bands as they lounged around a couple of couches. Jace, Gavin, and Dez stood up.

"This is fucking it you guys." Their blonde vocalist approached them all grinning like a mad man. "We can't fuck this up."

"Are you kidding?" Jace twirled one of his drumsticks, "With Tuck out of the way we're already 300 percent better."

"Fuck you Jace!" Tucker sat there trying hard not to pout in front of Cara or Rae.

"I'm just messing with you kid." He laughed.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" They suddenly heard a voice boom from the stage and Austin's heartbeat grew so fast he thought he might faint.

It was the same light-headed tornado of exhilaration and insecurity he'd felt the very first time he ever performed with the guys, back when they kind of sucked a little and called themselves Copper Top. Didi had gotten them the most cliché of gigs at a coffee house and they planned on doing some of their lighter songs for what they assumed would be a pretty mellow crowd. He was so nervous that he threw up in the restroom 20 minutes before they were supposed to go on. The guys teased him about it for weeks. But not Didi. She ventured into the boys bathroom with neither hesitation nor shame and sat there rubbing his back as he buried his head in the bowl. And then, to both his embarrassment and relief, she revealed that she'd brought along a toothbrush and some toothpaste for just such an event. Whispering under her breath, she admitted that she'd thought Gavin would've been the one to blow chunks, and Austin had laughed as he brushed his teeth and Didi smiled at him in the mirror. If his heart hadn't been permanently closed to the world since 2005, he might've fallen in love that very second. She was the kindest person he'd ever interacted with and, though that sweetness penetrated a few of his layers, there was still a lot of Austin that remained guarded. And so what might've been an intense romantic love, became more of the brother-sister kind and that was okay with both of them.

"Hey!" Austin called as 'Flesh! And! Booooooone!' rang out around them followed by thunderous applause, "For Didi?"

"Hell fucking yes for Didi!" Gavin agreed.

"For the angel!" Jace pointed towards the sky.

Dez simply tapped his palm across his chest where their shared tattoo lay printed into his skin and nodded solemnly. The four of them went rushing towards the stage with The Awkwardians' good lucks exploding at their backs.

They immediately started with "Green" once the applause had somewhat settled. It was a more upbeat song that Austin himself wrote years ago mostly while under the influence of ecstasy for the first and only time. He couldn't remember much from that night except for the frantic scribbling he'd done once they returned to the apartment. The lyrics referred to a girl who was almost too bold, too sexy, but undeniably intriguing. He had an inkling he'd subconsciously written it about Nina and that night under the mahogany conference table. Those jade green eyes of hers seemed to beckon him even in the dark, even across years. Dez had a sax solo in the middle and those jazzy notes always crawled directly up Austin's spine giving him the same fearful excitement that the young Latina had. The song ended with Jace tapping a light crescendo on the cymbals. The audience didn't even let him finish before they were hollering and applauding their approval. Austin soaked it up like a sponge as he swapped out his Gibson for the Tele. Once the instrument lay across his body and he'd tuned into his inner Bruce Springsteen, the blonde grabbed the mic.

"One Hundred Fucking Amps!" he shouted to an entire ocean of rabid fans who hadn't stopped cheering yet and only grew louder with his enthusiasm.

"This next song is about holding on," the blonde positioned his hands on the neck and body of his Fender, "when you ought to be letting go."

The transition from sultry "Green" to angsty "Keeping Her Too Long" was jarring but it worked. The crowd awoke as a sea of pumping fists and banging heads as Austin launched into the first powerful chords. He sang Dez's heartache to the city, throwing out certain words with an emotional rasp and capturing grief that was 5 years old but sometimes so vibrant it felt new. When they reached the bridge, he, Dez, and Gavin dropped out to let Jace go at it alone on the drums. Austin belted to the simple but forceful beat of snares and bass drums and nothing else. The crowd lost its collective mind, feeling their pulses slow to match Jace's solo rhythm.

"We're gonna take it slow again stay with us OHA!" he grinned into the mic once "Keeping Her Too Long" ended and the applause died down. "Recently I had this girl tell me that the first time she heard this next song, she loved it so much that she listened to it 6 more times in a row."

For one fuzzy, barely there moment, Austin's fingers went up to grasp something sitting just behind his ear. But then, remembering he'd left the MUNY pen in his suitcase, he simply brushed his hair back and counted them into the soft beginnings of "Crawling". As they played and harmonized, the blonde suddenly realized why he hadn't changed his clothes even though a few bits of silly string were crusted to his shirt. He knew she'd be watching and that's why he told the guys they should add "Crawling" to the setlist and that's why he kept on his slightly soiled AC/DC tee. Because it was obviously one of her favorite songs and because it was the last outfit she'd seen him in and somehow that connected them across 663 miles. So he let the microphone graze his lips as he sang and thought of Ally, hoping that, in her infinite ability to read him, she'd know she was on his mind.

"Okay so," he addressed the people standing before him, listening to his voice echo about the space, "who here has ever had someone piss them the fuck off?"

A monstrous roar rose as every single body present whooped in solidarity.

"Well I was so pissed off when I wrote this song that every time I sing it I get angry all over again. So if you hear me use some…..foul language…." Austin turned to grin at the rest of his band as the crowd cheered again, "…then I apologize. I get caught up in the moment sometimes you know."

The very first word of "Little Prince" was 'fuck' and their audience ate it up. He focused on just vocals for that one, the Tele slung across his back as Gavin's bass worked overtime and Dez's keyboard accompanied. Austin growled the lyrics as a familiar anger crept into him. Then there was a moment of silence as long as a single heartbeat before the other three slammed back into the melody and he shouted the chorus.

"Oh taste my bitter insolence, I'll pack my bags and scale the fence, live off pocket change and common sense, and I swear to God I'm not your fucking little prince!"

Flesh & Bone was in rare form. They fed perfectly off of a band-binding chemistry nearly 7 years in the making. Austin wowed everyone, including himself, when they played "Unfashionable" and he put the entirety of his effort into crooning like it truly was 1957 and Ally was the only poodle-skirt wearing chick in attendance. They kept it slow after that with "Rust". He closed his eyes as the song began and, when he finally opened them halfway through it, Austin grew the tiniest bit breathless as he stared out over a burning orange sea of lighters, flames waving with the saxophone-heavy melody. There were hundreds of people watching and swaying and finding themselves in the sadness. He couldn't believe he'd forgone days of such an experience for Mike fucking Moon of all people….or even for Ally Dawson. Sure she was something special, something different, but music was what told his heart to keep beating.

They closed the short show with "Rabid Party Animals" to keep it upbeat and show off Dez's unending creativity. They could barely get the last note out before the crowd erupted in an overwhelmingly positive response.

"Thank you OHA! We're Flesh & Bone!" Austin, dripping with sweat, yelled into the mic. The four of them, all tired and exhilarated and bonded irreversibly as brothers, lined up beside one another and took a bow in unison. The second they got backstage Cara completely ignored Dez's perspiration and wrapped him into a tight hug, screaming over the sound of the still cheering crowd about how incredible they were. Austin was riding so high up on cloud 9 that he thought he may never ever come down.

That night around 11:30 they celebrated. A law had passed years ago that allowed the sale of alcohol in every county in the state of Georgia on Sundays and their supergroup took full advantage. Mulaney, who was an Atlanta native, even got Tucker a fake ID. The 17 year old ultimately ended up passing out around 2:45 am after a grand total of 3 vodka shots. They drew a mustache-goatee combo on his face with black sharpee because of course they did. Dez and Cara spent the entire night alternating between chugging beers and making out because of course they did. Austin didn't care about telling him it was wrong to cheat on Trish though. He was incapable of caring about anything that night because the entirety of his being, body, mind, everything, was numb with booze and euphoria. That was Sunday. A truly glorious Sunday that he knew he'd look back on as one of the happiest days he'd ever experienced.

And then on Monday he fucked Rae and that was pretty fantastic too. Well, actually Rae kind of fucked him if you wanted to be technical about it. They were both sober and reeked of chlorine because it all started in the pool. He was sitting on the slick, tiled edge, his ass planted directly on the 4 ft. sign and his feet swirling lazily in the water. The guys had generously replaced his broken Ray bans with a pair of neon pink aviators that were clearly made for girls. Still, he rocked them with the kind of confidence that could pull off anything. Jace by his side, the blonde sat there covered in unexpected March heat, bare chested. The rest of the groups, both Flesh & Bone and The Awkwardians, were scattered about the pool area. His mind was fixated on a single memory: the very first time he and Ally kissed. He could almost hear the way she'd whispered his name, so willing but afraid. And he couldn't escape the scent of rain because it was somehow even more powerful than the chlorine. Jace rambled on about an idea he had for the show later that night but Austin couldn't offer any of his attention. Behind the Barbie pink shades, his eyes stared sightlessly at the bright blue water and found Ally's frightened expression below the surface. His recollection was so vivid it was a miracle anything could snap him out of it. If Rae hadn't been wearing a metallic bikini, Austin might've spent the rest of the afternoon stuck in his own mind. But the singer gingerly descended the pool steps in a shiny silver 2-piece that caught the light without mercy. That's all she was at first, just a shiny thing in his periphery. But it was still enough for him to glance over. He watched her cross the pool in slow motion, shooting him this quick but meaningful look just before she began to tread water. By the time she reached the 6 ½ feet and gripped the concrete edge, Austin had slipped into the water and was closing in because he knew that look like the back of his hand. They talked about nothing in particular as he pressed close and they tread the deep end. Then, when the conversation lulled into a natural silence, they filled it with more of those knowing looks. The clock in her hotel room read 2:15 pm as he undid all of her bikini strings and buried his tongue in her mouth. Then it was 2:26 and she was gently riding him into the promise land. He massaged her breasts and tried to stop thinking about an entirely different set of brown eyes. It felt so good his head was reeling. The blonde had to bite his lip because his mental faculties were crumbling and he knew if his mouth was allowed to say anything it'd be "Ally" and then all hell would break loose. If only Rae didn't have such a dark brown gaze. If only he hadn't had a shy but feisty songwriter consuming his mind for the past few hours. And if only there wasn't residual pool water trailing down Rae's silky skin and looking exactly like rain on the window of a VW Bug. She came. He followed right after. And as his body tensed in pleasure, he called out Ally's name. Rae just laughed it off and told him it was okay as she collected her silver 2-piece.

The Awkwardians performed before Flesh & Bone that evening. The 4 Virginia boys hung around backstage listening as they soothed the crowd with their own brand of soft indie-pop-rock. Austin realized they weren't as mediocre as he'd once thought and Rae's voice possessed this soulful quality that lent itself beautifully to their musical aesthetic. When they came jogging offstage to a very loud, satisfied audience, the brown-skinned girl gave him a cheeky smile and ruffled his hair. And from the very second that her fingers brushed against his scalp, Austin could think of nearly nothing else but the way that Ally had done the same thing. Of course she was high on cocaine at the time but that didn't matter to him because, after all, isn't that when the truths are most evident? After the inhibitions melt away? He could practically see the sunny yellow paint on her walls as Flesh & Bone took the stage to raucous cheers. And when they launched into yet another slightly tweaked set list, his mind was so preoccupied with the phantom feel of Dawson's fingertips that he had to focus extra hard on remembering the lyrics to "Muscle Fibers".

Austin didn't really realize he was hurting until Tuesday. It was an insidious pain that crawled in such slow intensity that at first he thought he was just getting sick or something. He woke up that morning with a generalized but very mild ache that started at the base of his neck and encompassed the whole front and back of his torso. Maybe partying 2 nights in a row was catching up to him? He and the guys headed to brunch in hopes of conquering the hangover blues. Over Belgian waffles and Colorado omelets, he told the guys about Miami and the funeral and even mentioned miss Ally Dawson. He left out the darker pats of her of course. Nauseous and tired yet unable to help themselves, Jace and Dez grinned at him, demanding to know just how hot this girl was and exactly how far he'd gotten with her.

"Is that all you guys care about?" Gavin fixed them with a blue-eyed stare from behind his shades. "You know he just put his old man in the ground right?"

"Aus doesn't give a shit about that guy." Jace waved him off with a strip of turkey bacon.

"J's right." The blonde mumbled from where he sat slouched in the booth, sipping his coffee. He didn't want to talk about Ally but he DEFINITELY didn't want to talk about his father and all the conflicting emotions he still carried.

"See." Bacon crumbs flew from their drummer's mouth, "So tell us about this Cally chick."

"Wait was it Cally or Ally? I thought you said Ally." Dez stirred his bloody mary.

"Ally." He replied.

"So you guys fuck or what?"

Behind the Barbie pink sunglasses Austin rolled his eyes, "No we didn't she's one of those good girls you know."

They groaned in response.

"I met her at the wake and it was just easier to hang out with her than listen to my mom and aunt blubbering the whole time."

"Ugh I fucking hate funerals." Jace shuddered.

"I think everybody does dumbass." Gavin grinned as the rest of the guys chuckled.

"Whatever."

"Dez you got anymore Tylenol?" Austin asked the red head beside him, who handed over a small plastic bottle. He downed 2 more pills because, for some reason, that vague pain in his core had gotten just slightly worse in the past few seconds.

"Oh yeah I had an idea for a new song. You think you could take a look?" the blonde asked as he passed the Tylenol back to Dez.

"Yeah sure. Christ knows I haven't gotten any writing done with Cara around." The ginger replied, shaking his head like it was truly a shame but grinning at the same time.

So Austin explained the puke and the ants and showed everyone the line and potential song title he'd typed into his cell phone that very first day in Miami. Dez read them and thought for a moment then began to scribble on a napkin, every so often instructing Jace to drum out a rough beat on the tabletop with his fingers. They worked on "Ant Nirvana" for most of the morning until the lyrics started to go in a weird direction and Dez deemed it necessary to take a break.

Tucker, with his black marker facial hair, was still out cold on his cot when they returned to the hotel room.

"I can't believe the bouncers here actually bought that bullshit fake ID of his." Jace kicked off his shoes and flopped face down on the bed. "That shit wouldn't fly in Virginia."

"I know right." Gavin agreed as he scooped Turkey up into his arms, "Kid barely even looks 17 let alone 21."

And in that very instant Austin remembered it was Ally's birthday.

"You okay Aus?" Dez asked, lifting his shades just long enough to scrutinize his best friend.

"Oh fuck you're not gonna puke are you?" Jace groaned, face still buried in a pillow.

"I think I'm getting a cold or something." Austin shuffled to his and Gavin's shared bedroom space. "I'm gonna pass out for a while."

That night at their show, as the last notes of "Explore" rang out and a mob even larger than the one on Sunday applauded, he put his lips to the microphone.

"This next song is for Ally." He addressed the masses with adrenaline coursing thickly through him and suppressing the ache of his imminent illness. With several random Ally's screeching excitedly in the crowd, he couldn't help but laugh and send an amused look to his bandmates. Dez wiggled his eyebrows.

"Okay seriously though." Austin repeated to the continued pleasure of every Ally in attendance. Then he stared directly into the lens of a nearby MTV camera and smirked.

"Happy birthday Ally."

And then they played "Crawling" for, as far as he was concerned, an audience of one.

On Wednesday, Austin was uncharacteristically rude to a beautiful young groupie who'd overstayed her welcome. He awoke with her slender arms around him and a headache. Her name was Jenna and she was 'such a HUGE fan OH EM GEE!' that she insisted they party together after their show last night. Austin could barely get off stage and wipe the sweat from his eyes before she was practically shoving her tits in his face and typing her number into his cell. He didn't call her but of course she and her friends just happened to show up at the same club around midnight. He was wasted from trying to drink away the cold still building in his chest and head. 2 hours later and they were a tangle of thrusts and nudity in his bed. 7 hours after that and his eyes were opening to her purple hair with immediate irritation. He normally didn't mind his one-night stands sleeping over. Hell as long as they totally understood him when he said he wasn't looking for a relationship, he was often down to do breakfast the next morning. But all he wanted at 9ish AM on that Wednesday was to be alone. So he shook her shoulder until she woke up then told her to hit the pavement. Jenna cussed, A LOT, as she dressed and exited but he was in too much discomfort to give a shit. It wasn't a normal headache because it was like the pain in his whole torso had grown, encroaching on his skull and all it contained. And, on top of that, it wasn't even normal pain either. He felt antsy and fidgety. He felt like he needed to be doing something, anything, because it hurt to just lie there doing nothing. There was an unnatural kind of energy stored in him and itching to be released. But he had absolutely no idea what it was that his body and mind were aching for, so he just stayed in bed and tried not to smell Jenna's pina colada body spray on his sheets.

The guys had to practically rip him from the mattress. They didn't have any shows scheduled that day but Flesh & Bone was booked to the teeth with promotional responsibilities. It was part of their OHA contract to do interviews with certain networks, blogs, websites, and magazines of the festival's choosing. So, like the geniuses that they are, the guys had scheduled all of that stuff for one single day in order to get it over with. For practically 6 hours straight Austin smiled and joked and fielded the same questions over and over again, all while his insides mysteriously deteriorated. He didn't truly feel sick. There was no scratch in his throat, no sneezing, no snotty nose. But he just felt trapped and lost in his own skin without any explanation why or any apparent means of escape. It made him crave solitude, especially with EVERY annoying interviewer hounding him about the whole "Happy birthday Ally" thing. He was too tired to lie so when they insinuated that he and this 'mystery girl' may be romantically linked, which they always did, he simply said that yes he'd kissed a brunette back in Miami but their status was complicated. And when they flat out asked if they were boyfriend and girlfriend he shrugged, being so honest yet vague that the vultures eventually moved on. None of the VJ's, journalists, or reporters knew about his father's passing. Or if they did, they didn't mention it.

After the interview train came to its final stop, he wanted nothing more than to crawl back to bed and hibernate. But what kind of friends would Jace, Dez, and Gavin be if they allowed him to do such a thing? So they literally carried him out of the hotel, Gavin and Dez got his arms while Jace and Tucker grabbed an ankle each, and kidnapped him down to the festival because he really hadn't had much opportunity to enjoy it as a non-performer. They walked the park grounds as attendees, scarfing down festival food and hitting up the shows. He got to see Alabama Shakes and The 1975. They rocked out to Tenement's set, headbanged with Torche, and lost their fucking minds at the much-anticipated reunion of Twisted Sister. By the time they were all stuffed to bursting with chili dogs and carrying a whole new wardrobe of concert tees, Austin's skin seemed to fit him just fine again. He didn't know what the illness was but he did know that One Hundred Amps seemed to be the cure. Of course it was. Isn't that what he'd been telling himself all along when Miami started to suck the life out of him? That he needed to reach his nirvana, his Eden, a rock music festival full of people who gave him the 2 things he'd never had growing up:

Acceptance and understanding.

He felt even more like himself in that environment. And Austin rode the high of that feeling for the rest of the night…..or at least until they got back to the hotel room….

The plan had always been to go out and get fucked up every night of the festival so Dez texted Cara and invited The Awkwardians to pregame around 10:30. Austin rummaged through his suitcase for a clean pair of boxer briefs to throw on after his shower. And there between a white crewneck t-shirt and his Batman undies, was the yellow MUNY pen. He hesitated only a second, without truly understanding why, before grabbing it and twirling it in his fingers like a drumstick. His mind began to wonder just how many more songs Ally had written since he left. Had his departure been significant enough to inspire music in her? He wasn't sure if that'd be a good or bad thing. Did he really want Ally scribbling sad songs in her little book because their intense interaction had ended all too quickly? He wondered how much sleep she'd been getting the past few nights. His brown eyes scanned the pen sitting in his hand, the same pen that had been sitting in her hand, in her hair, moving furiously across a sheet of paper to help her express emotions that were almost always bubbling over.

It was remarkable. Austin could hardly believe how good he'd felt just a few seconds ago because, standing there in front of his suitcase with a pen from some school he'd never get into, his entire mood had taken a nosedive. So he pregamed hard. And when they went out, he drank harder, until that downward spiral became a dizzying upswing.

On Thursday they met some record company big-wigs for an early breakfast meeting that was so brief they couldn't tell if the suits were even really interested or not. Either way they got a business card and a 'we'll keep in touch' and that was oddly a good enough reason for bottomless mimosas. Austin took 'bottomless' as a personal challenge because he was still thinking about Ally's sad songs and that worry pulsated in the folds of his brain like a second heartbeat. OHA would be ending the following day, so when they performed in a few hours at 4pm, it would be for the last time at the festival. He wanted to drown everything

The guys dumped their stumbling lead vocalist back in bed after breakfast because he was just a little too drunk to go to the mall with them.

"I'm gonna set your alarm for 2:50 okay?" Dez fiddled with Austin's phone as the blonde lay sprawled across the mattress.

He mumbled in response before quickly drifting off to sleep. The festival was over tomorrow and Austin was in agony. He wanted so badly to return to Virginia but his dreams took him directly to Miami…

Someone was screaming. Well….not someone. Ally was screaming. He knew that because he was staring right at her and those cherry red lips he'd kissed so many times were wide open. Inside, her tongue was incredibly pink. They stood in the bathroom of his old bedroom. Austin hadn't taken his eyes off of Ally in the least, but still he knew that's where they were. He could feel the sink pressing into his lower back, and the ice cold tiles beneath his bare soles. She was dressed in all yellow: flowy sundress, wide-brimmed felt hat, and the familiar Birkenstocks, now a sunny goldenrod, dangled from her fingers. If he had looked down, he would've seen the yellow polish on her toenails and the beach sand clinging to her damp feet. But he didn't look down. He didn't need to. He already knew. She was still screaming. She hadn't stopped in a small eternity. It was pure horror, roiling in her lungs and bursting from her throat. He stared into her wide brown eyes as they glossed with unshed tears. There was only about a single foot, 12 inches, of space between them. If he wanted, the blonde could reach out and touch her. And he did want. His right hand rose, like it was its own master, and landed numbly on her shoulder. The screams stopped instantly, as if he'd flipped a switch. Her red lips pressed into a thin hard line. The tears finally began to fall. They'd forgotten how to blink. Their eye contact never broke.

"I thought you couldn't find it."

Her voice shuddered in a delicate whisper. He said nothing.

"I thought you couldn't find it….I thought you couldn't find it…."

The two were frozen, immovable in the place he'd wanted to escape the most, his hand on her shoulder and her gaze devouring him.

"I thought you couldn't find it…I thought you couldn't find it…I thought youcouldn'tfindit..I thought you couldn't find itIthought you couldn't finditIthoughtyoucouldn'tfindit AUSTIN!" she shrieked loud enough to make his ears ring.

"Couldn't find what Ally!?" his voice finally worked again.

She didn't answer, but her eyes did, sliding painfully slow to the gentle hand still grasping her shoulder. Instinctively, Austin held both of his calloused palms up to his face, examining them and allowing his gaze to leave Ally Dawson for the first time. And what he saw violently ripped the very soul from his body. It wasn't his palms, it was below his palms. It was those parts of the body that you really don't think about until they become your only means of escape.

"I thought you couldn't find it…" Ally's whisper echoed as if she'd shouted it.

A pulse, life giving and unmistakeable, throbbed softly just beneath the skin of his wrists. The beat filled his ears. He watched as invisible blades began to slice directly over his pulsating flesh. Thin red lines split his wrists completely open. Blood poured dark red down his arms in a gory stream of heat and life. His entire body grew so cold he could feel frost grip his inner surfaces. There was no physical pain, but the absolute terror of what was happening, what was about to happen once the gushing stopped, buckled Austin's knees and sent him collapsing to the floor in a pathetic prayer position.

"I didn't do it Ally!" he cried to the brunette still standing before him and watching with eyes full of misery. He held his hands up to her, begging her to believe him before it was too late.

"I didn't do this! I couldn't find it! I swear I couldn't find it!" he struggled to speak as sobs clawed at his throat. Blood coursed down his outstretched arms and dripped on his jeans and the floor.

Her sandals thudded like thunder against the tiles as she released them and dropped to her knees with him. The red bled into her dress hem. It tainted everything. It tainted everything.It tainted Ally's palms and seeped in between her fingers as she wrapped her small hands around his open wrists tighter than he'd ever thought her capable of. The crimson torrent slowed to a grisly trickle. Her knuckles flushed ghostly white.

He looked at her, Ally Dawson, covered in yellow because she was Florida sunshine, because she was acres of Daffodils full bloom. She gazed at him with eyes that wouldn't stop crying and a smile overflowing with kindness. When he spoke, his voice wavered.

"I didn't do this I promise."

Her stare never faltered. Her grip never loosened. "I know Austin."

She kissed him. Red lipstick stained his mouth as his red blood stained her skirt. The taste of strawberries flooded his tongue.

Austin's eyelids flew open so fast that his vision blurred momentarily. He felt around the nightstand beside him to shut off his phone's blaring alarm. And when the silence settled again and his sight sharpened, Austin Moon turned slowly onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow, wanting for one insane moment to smother himself because fuck shit FUCK!...

He…missed her.

Residual intoxication clouded his mind slightly with champagne and orange juice, leaving him just able to hate the idea but completely UNable to deny it.

He missed her.

He grabbed 2 fistfuls of his blonde hair, pushing his face deeper and harder into the pillow. What the fuck was the matter with him? It was never part of the plan to miss anyone. Austin Moon didn't miss people because people never offered him anything he couldn't already find in between his guitar strings. But how could he pretend not to know what that ache in his chest meant? What that itch under his skin meant?

And then, completely out of NOWHERE, Austin's head shot up off of the pillow because a thought hit him so hard he worried it might fracture him.

"Oh fuck." He whispered so softly with what little breath he had.

His stomach and intestines and every other vital organ twisted into painful, impossible knots. Turkey watched from Gavin's vacant bed as Austin tore his hands through his hair because….

What if she ran into Dallas again?

Miami was a huge city but it could be so strangely small sometimes. Dallas knew she was there, he probably knew what kind of car she drove. Holy fucking shit. Austin squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to erase sudden images of that loser douchebag pressing up against Ally as she screamed. Jesus Christ. He gulped oxygen quickly but quietly, afraid to fully release his panic. But holy shit what if? WHAT IF? It was unlikely and he knew that but still….

What if?

"Oh good you're awake. We're back." Gavin, aka Captain Obvious, came waltzing in the room, "We're gonna head out in a few so get ready. Aw hey Turk."

The bassist set down his shopping bags and gave the meowing cat an affectionate scratch behind its ear.

"Uh yeah okay." Austin rasped, attempting to calm himself.

"Gav is Austin up!" Dez called from the other room.

"Yeah!" he responded, swiftly hoisting Turkey into his arms.

His walk wobbled a little but Austin managed to collect his clothes and make it to the bathroom. He showered quickly under the hottest water his body could stand.

The blonde left it all backstage, the worry and the longing that followed him to their venue. He was a professional when he performed, always. And if any of those troublesome thoughts did sneak up on him in the middle of a song, Austin had learned a long time ago how to channel them into his music. His grief was rawer in "Keeping Her Too Long" when a fleeting memory of Ally crossed his mind. His guitar solo was more aggressive in "Completely Lost" as the name Dallas plagued his brain. Their audience loved it. As a band they'd done what they came to do. They wanted to play their music and have it mean something to someone. They wanted to be recognized for their hard work and talent. Flesh & Bone had played at One Hundred fucking Amps and killed it. The only problem for Austin was that leaving it all backstage meant that it was all there waiting for him when he was done.

The guys and the Awkwardians, booed him and threw empty beer cans when he announced, in the middle of their pregaming at the hotel, that he wasn't going out that night. Their show had ended hours ago, he was showered and dressed for the bars and clubs but, at the last minute, he'd lost all desire to do anything even remotely social.

"We survived OHA dude!" Jace reminded him, "We HAVE to celebrate."

"Yeah Aus." Dez agreed with a lapful of an already tipsy Cara.

The guys insisted but Austin really didn't think he was capable of enjoy anything at the moment. So he told them he was feeling sick which wasn't too far from the truth. That constant, hovering ache was back and it seemed to radiate everywhere. In the end they left him to wallow in his pseudo-illness alone.

The blonde nursed a single beer for hours as he stalked the only social media platforms that Ally Dawson seemed to have: Facebook and Instagram. She hadn't posted anything in nearly 3 months, so sending a message seemed useless. Instead he navigated her profiles all the way back to 2011 and tried not to accidentally like anything.

He missed her.

But how could he miss someone he barely knew? It was amazing and ridiculous how they'd managed to somehow stretch the days until they felt like months. In reality though they were basically strangers. Strangers who knew each other's deepest secrets, but strangers nonetheless. Ally knew that his father physically abused him from ages 11 to 16 but she didn't even know that he was allergic to eggplant. She knew that he'd once attempted to end his life but she didn't know that he was a headstrong Capricorn with a penchant for video games, a knack for cooking, and whose middle name, Monica, was his greatest insecurity. He knew that Ally had something precious stolen from her one night in New York, but he had no idea about her favorite food, her likes and dislikes, her hobbies.

If they'd met under different circumstances would things have still turned out the same? What if Austin didn't come rolling into Miami with a duffel bag full of coke and a heart full of resentment? What if he wasn't this jumbled, indecipherable mess of hatred and mourning for the man who'd influenced his life the most? Would non-conflicted Austin have connected with guarded Ally so well? What if she really was in Miami for Spring Break and nothing else? He found it hard to believe that talented, intelligent, well-adjusted Ally would go for someone as fucked up as he was. And yet none of that mattered because he WAS a shitstorm of grief and anger and she WAS a damaged fortress begging to be dismantled and they had found one another in their miseries.

What Austin did next wasn't a truly conscious decision. He simply closed his laptop and stuffed it into his suitcase because he knew that if he started to think too much he might change his mind. It was like a different Austin took over, an Austin who was completely insane yet resolved, an Austin who knew what needed to be done. That Austin pulled on his sneakers then calmly packed the rest of his things. He allowed snow to dust the inside of his lungs because he would need to stay awake for a long time. The duffle bag on his shoulder and the handle of the rolling suitcase in hand, Flesh & Bone's lead vocalist crossed the hotel room that looked as though a hurricane had been staying in it instead of 4 rowdy rock musicians….and Tucker. It was 1:48 am and he was really fucking doing this. The revelation itself sent another aching pang to echo against his heart chambers. As Austin passed the little generic desk in their room, he stopped to write the guys a note explaining everything...or at least everything that they needed to know. He signed it simply 'Aus', and tossed the hotel pen over his shoulder for no other reason but that nothing was making sense anymore anyway.

He piled his luggage in Roxy's trunk yet again and she only squeaked lightly in response. Residual fireworks crackled just behind his eyes as he climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door. That bump of coke had been substantial because he didn't want to have to stop at a hotel. He sat there for a minute in the dim parking garage with Roxanne T. Honda wrapped around him faithfully.

The hellish part of Austin's life began a few months after his 11th birthday. And because it would take 5 years to run away, that terrible half a decade clung to him always, and only really lifted when he was flying weightlessly under the influence. He started to toughen himself at age 16 because he'd made up his mind to run away when the time was right and being helpless would never be an option again. As a result, Austin hadn't been vulnerable in a long time. So when Mike died and the softness of such a forgotten sensation closed over him that weekend, and in Miami of all places, the blonde was in desperate need of something to grab onto. And there was Ally, guarded and beautiful and sad, just within his reach. There was really only 1 thing that Austin truly truly needed in life and that was his guitar. A year and a half of living off of pocket change had taught him that. But maybe Ally wasn't a need. Maybe she was something else, some kind of a 'want' that was stronger than anything he'd desired before.

The traffic wasn't too terrible at that time of night and Austin was zooming past the Atlanta city limits in just under 20 minutes. As he drove that long but familiar road to Miami, he thought about his life, his music, his family, his friends, and, most of all, Ally.

Austin remembered the first time he'd seen her and how she scared the shit out of him. It was hard to forget that vacant look on her face, like she didn't even know where she was or who she was or why the salt of sadness dripped from her eyes. He'd had to tap on the glass 3 times to shatter her trance. She came back to herself quickly and it surprised him how the mystery girl's face transformed completely from a look of haunted despair to a sweetly embarrassed blush.

He thought about Didi and how proud she'd be to see her boys kicking ass at OHA. That perfect red head was there when Dez's braces severely hampered his sax-playing abilities and when Jace hadn't even mastered the kick-flip on his skateboard yet. She was there when Gavin's grandfather passed away in 2005, offering him her condolences and a tiny little 9 week old grey furball. She was the one whose heart sang as Gav accepted his new cat with a tearful smile because she knew that caring for a life would give him purpose and help him heal. And it was Didi who, grinning, leaned in to confess 'So you don't have to go with this but I've been calling him Turkey for like the past 2 days. No idea why so don't even ask.' It was Gavin's first real laugh in a week. She was there to set Austin's thieving ass straight and introduce him to the 3 brothers he'd never had. She was there when the practices were disastrous and the music wasn't so great but the laughs were endless. He tapped his chest twice with the flat of his hand, remembering always what the tattoo there stood for.

Austin thought about cigarette smoke and relentless sunshine in the funeral home alleyway. Ally had blushed so many times there. At first she evaded his questions as if touching them might destroy everything. That same day, after their encounter left him hungry for more of her, Austin had even considered asking his mom what she could tell him about the Dawson's secretive daughter. But in the end he didn't. That would've been cheating.

He thought about the last time he visited his parents at age 19. Nothing had changed in his absence, not the depth of Mike's disapproval, not the thick veins branching across his temples as he shouted. Pain exploded in Austin's fist as it connected with his father's jaw but it was pain that the cocaine milling about his bloodstream wouldn't allow him to fully feel for another half hour. 'You're a disappointment'. That was the last thing Mike said to him. 'Fuck you', was Austin's response. He didn't speak to his dad for 4 years after that. And now those 4 years would be the rest of his life. The highly unlikely yet still possible chance for future reconciliation with Mike ceased to live just as his father ceased to live, and Austin didn't really know how to feel about that.

He remembered his and Ally's pity walk and how he didn't give a shit that it was a pity walk or that she wouldn't tell him about her injured hand because he was alone with her under stars and darkness. She had this incredible ability to make everything they did feel important, even a short stroll in suburbia. He learned that her talents spanned every musical instrument ever made. Then, minutes later, he was discovering this rage that lived inside of her. Ally-cat. God, she hadn't even seemed capable of being so furious when he first met her. She was too delicate, too uniquely designed to succumb to something so basic as anger and yet there it was, blistering hot and primal behind her eyes.

It was 3:55 am when calls and texts from the guys started to roll in like rough ocean waves. He ignored them all. Everything they needed to know was in the note.

He thought about Rae. She was almost Ally's opposite and yet so much of her reminded Austin of the MUNY dropout. Rae had the same big brown fawn's eyes but hers didn't hold the shredded remnants of a gossamer soul like Ally's did. Still, Austin had gotten caught up in that unending mahogany anyway. And when, in the throes of pleasure, he called out Ally's name, Rae simply smiled and gazed into the very center of him before saying 'It's ok' because she understood. He didn't know how or why but she did. And if that right there wasn't perfectly Ally of her then he didn't know what was. A small part of him wondered if he and The Awkwardians' lead singer could've actually had something. But the very next day she was already bragging to them about Gino, her latest conquest. That was alright though. Yes, Rae had a little something special. But she was no Ally.

He remembered the way Ally Dawson smiled at him from the back of Saint Gabriel's Catholic church as he stood there, nearly falling apart, waiting in line to view his father's body. It was completely unexpected. But she knew he was experiencing the kind of terrible feelings that no human should have to endure but every human does at some point. He was extremely high at the time yet her tiny red-lipped smile was able to calm a small piece of him that not even the coke could reach.

He thought about the first time he ever played his guitar professionally. He was 16 and had been living on the streets for 5 months. His clothes were dirty and he was in desperate need of a haircut and his funds were already starting to wear thin. So he picked what he thought was a good spot, somewhere sunny and open but heavy on the foot traffic. With the guitar case sitting wide open at his feet, Austin began to play classic, instantly recognizable songs that he'd grown up worshipping. His profits weren't that great but any amount that kept him from having to dumpster dive was enough. He didn't know it at the time but if he'd sang too he would've wooed the crowd even more, brought in a larger chunk of change. But Austin was young and still not completely aware of his own abilities yet. And anyway, while he would've rather gotten paper bills than metal coins, what really mattered was that the kind people of Florence, South Carolina thought that his playing was worth something. He got paid to strum his Gibson and that was the fucking textbook definition of being a professional.

He remembered the rain and the red Volkswagen and the scent of green apples. How could he not? The whole thing had ended badly but for some reason his brain didn't care. It curled around that memory like it was comforting. Maybe there was something about the taste of her lips or the way she leaned into him at the very last second, as if it was difficult but she just couldn't resist. Their skin was damp and their breathing shallow. Then she pushed him away.

He remembered the swingset and the tears, like diamonds, sparkling against her skin. He remembered her muddy Oxfords and the way she smiled when he invited her to join the broken people's club. Her kiss was so soft at the very corner of his mouth. Ally Dawson. A name that was hidden fire and whispered secrets.

He thought about that time he and Jace got into a fist fight because they were both 18 years old with equally foul mouths and bad attitudes. The relationship between him and Copper Top's drummer teetered on the edge of "frenemies" from the very beginning. Austin had endured enough physical and verbal abuse growing up that he struggled with insecurity so severe it bordered on self-hatred. And he and Jace were so alike, too alike, that Austin strongly disliked the guy only hours after Didi first introduced them all. But he didn't act on it. He held in his disfavor because that was how he learned to survive with his father, keep your anger inside and take it out on something else later. It worked for a while, almost 6 months to be exact. But then he couldn't hold it in anymore. That was why he'd run away in the first place. It turned out that the feelings were mutual and Jace wasn't too fond of him either. Words were said, or shouted, and fists were thrown and if you ask either of the guys now, 5 years later, each would declare himself the winner. Austin wasn't entirely sure how but later they bonded over bloody noses, something that, after living under a roof with Mike Moon for so long, he'd thought completely impossible. And out of the violence and animosity grew an inexplicably strong brotherhood.

He remembered the fear swirling in Ally's eyes as she watched him cut coke into neat little rows. Under Roxanne's roof they were in a different world, an alternate twilight altogether. A-are we doing multiple lines? Her voice shook so much that she stuttered and all he really wanted to do was kiss her questions away. It was insane to see her so timid and afraid one minute, then boldly pressing a fingertip to her nostril the next; all sweet and innocent in her flowery sandals, snorting cocaine off of a glossy picture of Rihanna's unapologetic stare. In the panic of having fireworks and earthquakes wreak havoc in her brain, Ally had called out his name. He told her to relax and she did. Then, all of a sudden, they were doing another line and 'piece of fucking cake' was creeping lazily from her smiling lips.

Austin only stopped 3 times as he made the 9 hour drive back to Miami. Twice for bladder relief and food, once for a 30 minute nap. For a second, as he sat half asleep in some empty Walmart parking lot with his seat reclined aaaalllll the way back, Austin asked himself what the hell he was doing. He didn't belong in Miami. It had taken an average weeks' worth of coke for him to even TOLERATE the place for just 3 days. So why was Ally worth it? Why did she seem to work even better than the blow sometimes? He drifted off to sleep unwilling, and frankly quite unable, to answer either question.

It was that quick yet supremely refreshing nap that Austin longed to revisit as he drove the final 20 minutes into his hometown. Exit signs blurred as they whizzed by and he felt his stomach begin to lurch uncomfortably like some kind of recurring nightmare. It was déjà vu all over again. Except this time there was no crappy omelet to sit like a heavy, nauseating excuse in his gut. Austin's belly was full of butterflies and they weren't just fluttering, they were kickboxing. The city was 40% ocean and 60% shit, yet it still intimidated him. He hated that.

Last time Austin was only minutes away from the center of hell, Dez had called just to check in. The blonde didn't expect that to happen this time around. He'd basically ignored every sound his phone made since leaving the hotel in Atlanta. All the unanswered attempts at communication from the guys had stopped hours ago. Austin felt largely alone as he crept closer to his exit, but it was far too late to turn back. So he took several deep breaths and tried to remind himself of what was waiting for him in the dreaded depths of Floridian suburbia.

His mind conjured up a memory of Ally as if the brunette was smoke inhaled a long time ago and now, finally, allowed to come curling out in a much needed exhale. They kissed in her bedroom like they'd been kissing since its invention. She was everywhere, consuming his senses so completely that it overwhelmed him and he clutched her tightly to maintain some sanity. Everything about her, the legs straddling him, the arms cradling his head, the mouth devouring his kisses, was so very warm that he seriously began to wonder if he himself had always been so cold. Then she'd pressed into him and he seriously began to doubt that he'd ever be cold again. Not with her stoking this desire in him that, with a cocaine kindling, erupted into flame.

Austin licked his lips and put his hands at 10 and 2 on Roxanne's steering wheel. He thought about what happened after their intense make out session. Her bruise was almost indigo in the center and pale yellow on its edges, radiating out over her delicate skin in a sickening gradient. He could barely take his eyes off of it as she twirled in the middle of the room. Hearing her gruesome story crushed together with her ukulele's happy melodies made him feel sick. You know the funny thing about rape? Austin cringed visibly in the driver's seat. It was such a chilling question, slipping from Ally's pink lips with a voice that was too cheery to be normal. She grinned and spun around as blood dripped from her nose, asking him if her catharsis was victory. He'd wondered briefly if she was having some kind of a breakthrough, if she was possibly coming to terms with what happened to her. But then the blonde remembered that there was real life beyond their cocaine high and not some bullshit Lifetime movie. Ally was crying because a motherfucker named Dallas had managed to ruin moments he wasn't even a part of. And breakthrough or not, that kind of pain reared its ugly head whenever it wanted, even after years, sometimes even after white lines. The brunette was in store for a lot more crying, a lot more ruined moments.

Austin gave Roxy's steering wheel a slow, subtle turn, guiding her into the far right lane. The exit welcomed them both with wide open arms.

"Fuck." He grumbled uncomfortably, his hand rifling through the small stash of pilfered anonymous cigarettes crowding his glove compartment.

Bumming cigs from the drunk chicks at OHA was almost too easy. He'd just lean in, voice ultra raspy, and work his request into their already heavily suggestive conversation. A little smirk and a little smolder and the girl was practically throwing them at him, eyes all but begging him to make her his favorite. Ever cool and collected, Austin would place the cancer stick behind his ear and tell her he was saving it for later. She'd swoon, practically melting to the floor because she thought that meant she was special. Now, cruising down the exit ramp and sticking one between his lips, the blonde couldn't have remembered or even given a shit about which ditzy groupie had gifted it to him. He was still grateful though and so were his lungs as they silently collected something smoky, grey, and definitely bad for them. It was 12:00 pm on the dot, Austin was puffing his brunch, and he could feel static sneaking up behind him. The electricity of anticipation was in the air. He felt…..excited?

"Fucking hell." the guitarist scoffed in complete annoyance. He pulled his new black Ray Bans down over his brown eyes and took a deep, hard drag from the cigarette. Feeling excited to be back in Miami wasn't, and would never be, okay. He'd snort all the coke in the world and suffocate that grossly misplaced emotion if he had to. Austin made a right turn as he argued with himself, head versus heart, over what he should be feeling.

"This was a mistake." He whispered to nothing or no one in particular. "A big fat fucking whale of a mistake."

He'd just driven through 10 hours of night and dawn, only to limp Roxanne to the finish line and immediately regret making the trip at all. But what good did that realization do him? The point of no return was way back at the Florida-Georgia state line somewhere.

The next left turn brought him right up against the beach, just like last time. It was far less crowded than before since some of the late Spring Breakers had finally gone back to where they'd flown in from. The shore was largely vacant, just a long swath of sand sloping gently into the sea.

That deep, insatiable worry erupted in the back of his mind again. What if Dallas had decided on one last conquest before heading back to New York? Austin's grip tightened around the steering wheel. What if? He drug smoke, thick and dark, into his airways and tried not to crush the cigarette between his fingers. Pink Floyd played from the radio, urging him to breathe, breathe in the air. So he did, over and over as Miami whizzed by.

Being practically engulfed in the smell of ocean water, Austin couldn't have stopped his brain from rushing to a potent memory even if he tried, even if he wanted to try. And why would he when there was a tiny pencil tattoo sitting next to a tiny guitar tattoo waiting for him in his mind's eye? He really did almost crash his car when she revealed the ink on her shoulder. He accidentally ran a red light and cut off a Toyota Camry that was rightfully crossing the intersection. It was hard for him to admit because he'd nearly totaled Roxanne and for what? A goddamn shoulder with tattoos that he'd never in a million years thought would be there? A grin suddenly spread across his face as he thought about the way she mocked him and stuck out her tongue. Ally didn't need to flash a tit or her ass to completely arrest his attention, just a cute little shoulder. Austin chuckled to himself. He was such a fucking loser. He was so fucking sappy and just realizing that only made him laugh more.

He thought about the way she'd treated his wounds so tenderly, even with disappointment swirling in her eyes, even with bitter apathy weighing down her voice. The feel of her fingers brushing against him, cleaning the blood and grime from his life, became so strong that it transcended Austin's memory. He was practically reliving their moment on the Boardwalk as he pulled up to the stop sign that had started it all. Sober Ally looked so weary that, if he hadn't still been just a little bit high, he probably wouldn't have asked her to walk with him. But he did and, no matter how reluctantly, she accepted.

Austin sat at the big red sign, his foot pressed to Roxanne's brake pedal. Below her undercarriage, he knew there was a slightly discolored patch of asphalt where he'd vomited after staring into the very face of gorgeous devastation. The ant nirvana had been dismantled, consumed for energy and reduced to nothing. He rolled down his window and flicked the near-extinguished butt of his cigarette in some sort of crappy memorial. Maybe it would roll under the car and sit smoldering where his toxic insides had been. He was losing his mind at an exponential rate and not even the ghost of Ally's healing hands could hold him together. It had been less than a week since he left but the city's temperatures were marching deeper into Spring's bright heat. Flowers were already beginning to bloom and, though it pained him to admit it, his childhood home looked practically picturesque from his street view. It was like a perfect gingerbread house with its brown paint and white trim. There were even lemon and cherry tulips sprouting along the borders. Mimi's car sat in the driveway and he wondered if she was in the kitchen baking up a storm, or in her bedroom crying into a mug of tea that was 'spiced' with something strong. She'd called him and left about a million voicemails the day he left. He only needed to listen to one to get a gist of what the others were about. Basically she wept for 3 minutes, imploring him, begging him to tell her why he'd left without saying goodbye. He didn't answer or return any of her calls. He didn't listen to anymore messages after that first one before deleting the rest. What he did do, however, was smoke and snort and fuck and strum until Mimi's voice stopped stabbing that spot that pained him when she cried.

A car horn behind him jerked Austin out of his thoughts. He was the Ally now, sitting at a stop sign way too long because he'd gotten lost in his past. He stuck his middle finger up out of the open window and made a smooth right turn.

Austin Moon's heart slammed against the back of his rib cage, pumping blood as red as the small car he seemed to always be looking for. There was nervousness encroaching quickly on his excitement and he began to chew roughly on his bottom lip, his mind reeling with thoughts of sandy shores, green umbrellas, Boston Crème pies, and assholes named Dallas. Then it all stopped. It was like someone built a cinderblock wall directly in front of Austin's brain as it raced 100 mph with no brakes. His grey matter became impossibly quiet, flattened against the sobering and unexpected site before him.

The VW Bug wasn't there.

His eyes were trained on that spot where there should've been a shiny hump of red waiting, and found nothing but a silver Honda Accord. It was a miracle he didn't run over any neighborhood children as his gaze completely disregarded the road to stare at a half empty carport. Roxanne came to a creeping halt curbside. He killed the engine and silence settled like a wool blanket. Austin was lost for what felt like the longest moment. This wasn't part of the plan. If Ally wasn't home then she was out somewhere in Miami, alone with nothing for protection but her own prying questions. He took a quick breath, unbuckled himself, and quickly got out of the car, ripping away his trepidation like a bandaid.

The tip of his finger bent ever so slightly backwards as he pressed the doorbell. Chimes bounced around behind that infamous navy blue door with its gold fixtures. It made him think of all the times he'd spent watching that door, waiting for Ally to come out or waiting for Ally to lead him in. Waiting. When did he go from being an emerging rock star to just a guy, waiting, in front of a blue door?

"Austin?"

Penny Dawson had a very expressive face, and the second she opened her door to find the late Mike Moon's blonde son, it showed nothing but surprise.

"Hey Mrs. Dawson." He struggled to speak with his mouth so dry.

She offered him a confused smile that was partially friendly, "Hiiiii…..um sorry I'm just surprised to see you here your mom said you headed back to Virginia."

"Is Ally here?"

Austin jumped right over her question because he didn't just drive more than 10 hours to make small talk with someone's mom. He licked his lips and gently adjusted his shades. Being able to hide his eyes was a definite advantage.

She hesitated, suddenly very unsure about this messy-haired young man who, she heard, had run away from home when he was only 16 years old. But Penny had seen a change in her daughter ever since she took some inexplicable interest in Austin Moon last weekend. Though the change was extremely subtle, it was clear to Ally's mother that she had taken a turn for the positive. So Mrs. Dawson studied him for a moment that was long enough to make Austin seriously consider running away.

"Oh no she's not." She finally replied, her voice wrapping him up in both relief and disappointment, "She actually left for CVS a few minutes ago to pick up a prescription for her hand." Penny shook her head in amusement, "She's been cooped up in this house all week and the second she leaves she finally gets a visitor."

Then he was gone, off of her porch with a mumbled 'Thanks' before she could even make any kind of cordial chit chat.

Austin barely even heard the radio as he drove. It was something mellow that smoothed over him. The melody wormed its way into his brain and coiled around the memories there. He thought about his and Ally's midnight walk through the water, her leggings rolled up to her knees. The blonde thought about how moonlight reflected as elegantly in her eyes as it did across the dark ocean. And when they sat in the sand to talk, he offered her the root of his imperfections. Everything, Mike, the blood, the guitar, the pain, and the razor blades, were all met with the sweetest understanding imaginable. Then they kissed, between sand and stars, over something he said about glue and textures and beauty.

Austin navigated the familiar streets of his hometown with anticipation arresting the hairs along his arms and Ally holding his mind hostage. She'd struck out at him like a cornered animal when he finally put her down because he was suddenly just another guy doing whatever he wanted to her. Then they rode back in silence heavy enough to smother whatever music the radio offered. And though he watched Ally as she stalked up the length of her driveway and placed her hand on the doorknob, she didn't look back once.

He pulled into the CVS parking lot, needing only a few seconds to spot Ally's car. Her red Beetle stood out like a sore thumb in a small fleet of typical Miami sports cars. A unique ride for a unique girl. He parked as close to it as he could, pulling Roxy into a spot 3 full spaces away. And when Austin pulled the keys from the ignition to let silence and screeching gulls surround him again, he sat there, clueless about what his next step should be. The CVS loomed to his left, sporting a partially broken 'S' and a redbox dispensary. The temptation to go inside was quickly clouding his better judgement. He was still prohibited from entering. If someone watching the security tapes just happened to identify and report him, he would be looking at some kind of jail time. A no nonsense judge had made that VERY clear. Austin eyes rolled behind his shades. In nearly half a decade he hadn't given 2 shits about being banned from the pharmacy franchise, and now all he wanted was to step foot inside to find what he needed. He watched as the store mocked him, its sliding doors opening and closing for the numerous customers still allowed to patronize it. His eyes rolled again, slower this time, as he flicked open the glove compartment and grabbed another cigarette. His only option was to wait. And if there was one thing the impatient blonde hated, it was waiting.

Especially when it was for something he'd been craving for days.

He held the cigarette between his lips and actually took a second to feel the papery surface. Then he thought about the pen that stuck out of Ally's hair the morning he left. She'd been up the entire night, scribbling lyrics, feeling her own paper slide beneath her hand. Somehow sleepless nights treated her well because even exhausted she was beautiful. Austin flicked the sparkwheel of his lighter and held its perfect orange flame against the cigarette's waiting end. She was so unintentionally sexy with tired, half-lidded eyes and a dorky t-shirt and an exposed bellybutton. Then she thanked him. The blonde still couldn't quite comprehend that. He must've done something for her in the span of 3 days, something she thought was valuable enough to warrant an expression of gratitude. But Austin hardly thought himself capable of providing anything significant to someone so special. The brown flakes of tobacco at the end of his cigarette burned brightly, incinerating as he took that first glorious inhale. Smoke and heat spilled down his windpipe, curling down his anatomy the same way his handwriting curved black ink across Ally's skin. She's mad but she's magic….there's no lie in her fire….

He'd had that quote stored in the back of his brain for years, and all the while it was meant for Allyson Dawson. It was meant to be written on her bare arm at 9 am on a Sunday after a night of full consciousness and lyrical expression. It was meant to be scribbled spontaneously. It was meant to be printed in temporary ink because once she read it he knew she'd never need to be reminded again.

Austin exhaled. And then that was it. The guitarist only made it through one single drag before he was already fucking done with waiting. He abandoned Roxanne and slammed her door shut. To an outsider, he was as confident as ever. He strode around the front of Roxanne all dressed for a night out in Atlanta, Georgia. His white distressed tank hung on his lean frame, exposing the corner of his WWDD tattoo. The army green, slim fit blazer he'd thrown over it flapped just slightly in the warm breeze. The rest of the outfit, jeans, high top Converse, and shades, were as black as certain parts of his heart. In the sun, his mop of blonde hair could've easily blinded someone as he ascended the driveway. On the surface he was Austin Moon, Flesh & Bone's lead singer and guitarist, back in his hometown to reclaim something important. But beneath that he was Austin, a broken boy who very much liked a broken girl and wasn't quite sure what to do with such a feeling. So, though he seemed self-assured, under that tan skin and black ink, his lungs were almost breaking down.

Ally's car was just as he remembered it, including the small mess of clothes and other junk in the backseat. He peered through her window and spotted the yellow MUNY t-shirt he'd used to dry off after their impromptu sprint through the rain and the green umbrella she'd left behind in order to make him more comfortable.

The cigarette dangled from Austin's lips as he paused for a moment, its nicotine having done nothing for his wild heartbeat. Inside the car he knew there was the scent of green apples and the floormats were probably stained with muddy shoeprints from a soaked cemetery. With one last glance at CVS' automatic doors, Austin placed both hands on the VW Bug and began to push and pull with all of his might. The small vehicle rocked on its axles for maybe 4 seconds before the alarm began to blare and the taillights flashed.

Austin was never a patient person.

With the theft alarm creating this harsh beat, the blonde 23 year old leaned against the side of the Beetle and folded his arms. People shot suspicious glances that barely even registered his attention. He was too busy concentrating on the smoke in his airways and trying to deny the fuzziness of excitement from completely overtaking him. Adrenaline gushed into his vasculature until the blood was diluted and his heart was practically fluttering. He breathed in another lungful of smoke, hoping to slow everything running rampant inside of him. His brown eyes, shielded by the inky black tint of his Ray bans, were glued to the CVS entrance.

Waiting. Yet again, he was waiting. Waiting for….what? The unlikely possibility that Ally might recognize her car alarm specifically? The employees to make an intercom announcement about a potential car theft?

Waiting. AGAIN, he was fucking waiting.

But not for long…

Austin almost swallowed the cigarette. He hated waiting yet at that very second he wished he had more time because he wasn't expecting her to appear so quickly. But there she was, in the flesh, rushing out of the pharmacy, gaze searching frantically for her precious Beetle. When those eyes did finally find it and, as a result, him, they widened to the size of dinner plates. He watched complete astonishment commandeer every facial feature she owned. Like mother, like daughter he supposed. And to see her so immediately frazzled bolstered Austin's courage like crazy. A confident smirk made its way to his face. He leaned there, arms still folded, cigarette smoldering, and waited as the car alarm faded into insignificance. Ally was motionless for 3 more muted beats of the angry Volkswagen before snapping out of it and quickly rummaging through her purse. Nerves basically shot, she almost dropped the key fob once she found it.

Austin chuckled, mumbling to himself, "Real smooth Dawson."

The brunette finally silenced her car with the press of a button. Then Ally took that first tentative step towards the insanely unexpected site in front of her. She walked slowly but that was fine. This was one thing Austin didn't really mind waiting for. He took advantage of her timid pace and allowed his eyes to absorb her carefully.

She wore a black crew neck sweater that was covered in sunflowers and at least 4 sizes too large. Black leggings disappeared under the oversized top and just below those, on her feet, a pair of black Doc Martins softly scraped the asphalt. Austin wondered if the giant sweater that hung to her knees and the black scarf wrapped around her neck and the grey beanie on her head were for comfort or for invisibility. The blonde assumed it was at least 90% the latter. He lifted his shades to the top of his head and Ally arrested his vision in stunning, real life, un-tinted color. She was smiling.

And blushing like a fucking maniac.

He took a puff from the cigarette and realized as he went to purse his lips and exhale that his mouth was grinning too hard to do so. He blew the smoke from his nose instead.

Seconds ticked by, fates intertwined, and feet steadily lessened to inches.

"U-uhm wow hi." Her pink lips moved and that sweet voice came tumbling out awkwardly.

"Well hello madam Ally." He stood up straight, gesturing to her Bug with the burning cigarette, "I think some asshole was trying to steal your car."

Her eyebrows shot up in amusement, "Oh really?"

"Really. It's a good thing I was here."

She rolled her eyes, "My hero."

Her face had yet to stop blushing and he found it impossible to look at anything but her eyes because they told a story. She wasn't wearing any makeup and her natural lashes looked so soft and delicate without mascara. There were bags, only slightly darker than the rest of her complexion, hanging just below her lower lids and undoubtedly filled with several sleepless, fearful nights. He tried to picture her round attic window from the outside, illuminated well past midnight and rivaling the sun as it rose. What songs had she written in those magic hours? What clumsy harmonica melodies had she fiddled with and tweaked to perfection? Their eyes met and Austin could see that the whites of hers were tinted red. How many times had she cried that week?….That day…?

He averted his gaze as far as he could, which ultimately wasn't very far at all. His brain was fixated on Ally Dawson, and it only allowed his eyes to deviate the length of her arm and linger on her right hand.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, appreciating the thin layer of gauze wrapped around her palm.

Brown eyes met brown eyes and he immediately realized that he wasn't asking about her hand, not really. Ally knew it too. Austin could tell by the way her eyes silently began to glisten with tears. He took another puff from his cigarette, trying to dull the ache that her sadness awakened in him. The moment was growing more and more serious with each wordless second but Austin was in no hurry to fill it. He'd learned that if there was anything worth actually being patient for, it was to hear Ally speak. So he stared into eyes that seemed to hold pain as naturally as they held mahogany brown, and let her have all the moments she needed.

Then she smiled. Ally smiled a genuine smile even as tears brimmed her eyes because she knew they weren't going to spill over.

"Those things'll kill you you know." She pointed to the cancer stick dangling from his lips.

He smirked, "Yeah no shit."

And it was just like before, except this time he dropped the cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his sneaker.

Then he wasn't sure what to say. He'd never abandoned a prestigious music festival and drove almost half a day just to see some girl he barely knew. It was all wildly new territory. And it certainly didn't help that all she had to do was look at him and just like that he was consumed completely.

"How was your birthday?" he asked lamely, folding his arms only because he didn't know what to do with his empty hands.

"What're you doing here?"

Her voice was soft and innocent but with a hint of underlying seriousness because she already had her own suspicions. It was a simple question that rose the hairs on his arms and stole all the moisture from his throat because the truth, his truth, could potentially change universes. His philosophy had always been that life was too shitty to waste time overthinking the good parts that came along. That didn't seem to apply here now because this part was much more than 'good' and he was already way past 'overthinking'. His response would be pivotal. Yes, she already had some kind of idea why he returned but that meant nothing if he didn't confirm it. A word, a look, anything to let her know that she was right. That was all Ally wanted, he could tell by the way she fidgeted with her fingertips and pleaded with her eyes. He licked his lips uselessly and tore a hand through his blonde hair, almost knocking the Ray Bans to the ground.

Suddenly embarrassed and shier than he'd ever been EVER, Austin shrugged.

"Um I don't know I just felt like coming back to Miami…um you know to check on Mimi and all that."

He lied. And even worse than that, he lied badly.

It only took her big brown eyes 2 seconds, a tiny fraction of a minute, to swallow him whole and completely penetrate his flimsy fib. But Ally didn't call him out because she could see the truth flickering in his guarded gaze and hiding in his self-conscious body language. She knew. She knew why he'd returned, as if him hunting her down at the CVS wasn't evidence enough. A warm fuzzy heat filled her skull at this huge revelation. And to think, just 6 days ago she was almost too shy to ask him to come see her before he left for OHA. And then, goodness gracious, the morning that he left she had wanted so badly to ask him to stay but was far too afraid to do so. Fear had always stifled her. But Austin….he was a different breed entirely. How was it that he could drive across states for what he wanted while she was still somehow trapped in her driveway, reading the words scribbled on her arm and wishing she had the courage to tell him how she felt?

The brunette grinned as she quietly digested the magnitude of what Austin's return meant.

"What?" he couldn't help but smile back.

She gave him a look that was all sass and playful attitude.

"You're fucking needy Moon you know that?"

Austin had to bite his lip to keep from grinning and even then it didn't work very well. He blushed, he fucking blushed, as Ally giggled at her own joke. And when he couldn't endure either, the heat in his face or her melodic laughter, the blonde stepped closer and pressed his lips to hers.

They kissed for all the days they'd been apart. She kissed him for coming back. She kissed him because he was all sunbaked skin and golden hair. She kissed him for reminding her how utterly breathtaking kissing could be.

Austin had kissed Ally multiple times before, and every time he found himself unable to describe the incredible feel of it. Suddenly, though, the words were coming to him as he cradled her face in both hands and she held onto his wrists for dear life. Kissing Ally was like performing on stage in front of millions and he's hitting every note and every chord perfectly. Kissing Ally was like a needle softly puncturing his flesh shooting something unbelievably potent directly into his blood, smothering his brain and filling his heart. Kissing Ally was like being home, before things got bad, when he had no idea what it was like to not have a family. He kissed her because she was new, she was alabaster skin and dark tresses. He kissed her because even broken she was so warm and complete.

Austin felt her arms softly reaching up to circle his neck. He wrapped his own around her waist and they drew even closer. It was amazing. How had it taken him so long to realize that he missed this? He was so caught up in OHA and everything it offered him, the music, the sex, the drugs, the kindred spirits. He forgot that sometimes Ally could be a little better than each of those. So he left them all for her. Austin Monica Moon, rock and roll fanatic, music enthusiast, and all around guitar freak, had foregone an entire day of One Hundred Amps, had abandoned his own personal Eden, a heavenly paradise he didn't even think he deserved sometimes, to do exactly what he was doing at that exact moment: kissing Ally into oblivion as she kissed him senseless.

The End.