Easier, an Austin & Ally oneshot

I do not own Austin & Ally. Reviews and requests are always appreciated.

It would make things ten times easier if he just ignored this feeling.

Actually, nine times, because then he'd have to stop staring at her.

Wait, no, eight times easier. He'd have to learn to respect her personal space.

Fine, seven times. He needs to stop telling her how awesome she is. It only keeps reminding him.

Maybe six times easier. He'd have to stop hugging her because he doesn't want to let go when he does.

Then again, it'd probably be five times easier. He is around her a lot, and he can only ignore it for so long.

Okay, so he refuses to go less than five, but it is not that much easier to ignore the feeling.

It would make things zero times easier to ignore this feeling.

It would make things ten times easier if he told her about his feeling.

Correction: It would only be ten times easier if she was okay with his feeling.

Problem: He has no idea if she will be okay with his feeling.

Correction: feelings, because there is definitely more than one thing bubbling in him. He's feeling love and adoration, and anxiety. And he's feeling Dez slapping him on the back for reasons he does not understand because he has not been paying attention.

"Isn't this great?" he's asked.

He puts on a smile, like he has a clue. "Fantastic."

He has absolutely no clue.

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She's sitting at the piano. The most logical thing to do is to sit down next to her and apologize for being late.

He should not have spent those five extra minutes fixing his hair.

She turns around and smiles.

All logic is thrown out the window.

He runs a hand through his hair. So much for those five extra minutes.

He sits down next to her. He smiles back and has the strange urge to wrap his arm around her.

He has to let her know.

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They're sitting in front of Mini's. Trish is trying to make her pizza last for more than two bites. His is already gone, and his stomach is still rumbling.

"Y'know, they should open a restaurant in the mall with some decent sized portions." He sips from his water bottle.

"They could call it Max's," Ally adds on. He raises his hand and high fives her, because he thinks it is so perfectly brilliant.

He may be biased to pretty brunette song writers.

Dez rubs his chin. "Where are we going to find someone named Max?"

Ally drops her head and, unfortunately, her hand with it.

"Want to go get some ice cream?" she offers. The way she's turned he'd almost swear she's asking him, just him and not the entire table.

"That's a great idea!" Trish replies, pushing back from the table.

He really needs to learn how to stop staring and start answering questions.

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It must be one of the hottest days of the summer.

And everyone in Miami wants ice cream.

The store is packed, and he's trying not to sweat through his tee shirt. It's pretty hard with everyone packed into such a small place.

Not that he's complaining. He's packed right against Ally, he back to his chest. He wraps his arm around her to conserve space.

Or because he wants to, depending on how you look at it. Judging by the look on Trish's face, she's chosen the latter.

The line shifts and suddenly there's a large sweaty guy behind him. He's breathing on him. The air is going down his back and he shivers. It's not the good shivers. The kind of shivers when a really cute girl whispers in your ear and your whole body feels it. No, it's the Oh my God, get me out of here now shivers.

A family at the front of the line collects their cones. There's a new gap, and everyone shifts forward. He makes sure this time to cut in front of Dez.

They reach the front of the line. They're out of Fruity Mint Swirl, much to her chagrin. He's already ordered for the others, but he needs to know her second choice.

"What do you want?" he asks, hoping she can hear him over the crowd.

She can hear him, but he can't hear her response.

She motions for him to bend down. He does and she cups her hand around his ear. "I'd like strawberry please."

He feels shivers again. This time it's those good shivers. He can feel it shoot down his body and finds it hard to keep standing.

He really should learn to respect her personal space.

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They're back at the Sonic Boom. By the piano her father has set up a fan. It's going pretty slow, barely creating a breeze.

Perhaps if Trish were to stop blocking it, she could actually feel something.

"Trish, you should get hired at a store that sells giant fans so we can all hang out in the cool," Austin comments as he fans himself with a stack of sheet music.

"Like Chilly Willy's?" Dez pops up from laying on the piano bench.

"That's not a bad idea." Ally maneuvers around the counter. "You should go apply."

Trish nods. "Alright. At least until this heat wave is over."

She leaves and the breeze becomes apparent. Ally races to be the first in front of the fan.

"We should turn this thing up," Dez suggests. He bends down and flips the switch to high. A gust of wind blows through Ally's hair. She quickly bends down, hoping the wind doesn't lift her skirt in the process. The fan gets turned back down.

She tries to smooth down her hair to no avail. A few customers chuckle at her.

"You look like one of those troll dolls."

Austin jumps to her rescue, uncovering her face beneath her hair. He tucks the final lock behind her ear.

"Don't listen to Dez. You look awesome Ally." She beams at him.

He should probably stop reminding her how awesome she is if he wants to forget himself.

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It's time for the mall to close. It's just the two of them left, Dez having gone to join Trish at her new job at Chilly Willy's. He turns the fan off.

Without the sound of the fan and their two best friends it is pretty quiet. Nobody is around, no distractions.

Now would be an excellent time to talk about those feelings of his.

"Hey Ally," he begins.

"You kids ready to lock up?" Mr. Dawson holds his keys up. "Time to go home."

She grabs for her book. He waits for her and together they exit the store.

"What was it you were going to say?" she asks. Mr. Dawson is within earshot. He's whistling to himself. He hasn't a clue what's happening outside of his door.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing is going on.

"Just good night." He wraps her in his arms. She envelops him back. They hang on, not saying anything.

Mr. Dawson joins them. He realizes they're being stared at, and that he's waiting. He doesn't want to try his patience, so he gives her one final squeeze and lets go.

He really needs to learn to stop hugging her or one of these days he'll never let go.

(The page is broken here)

He can already feel his deodorant wearing off as the heat wave day two begins. It's gross how much he's sweating. But as he walks through the mall he realizes he isn't the only one.

He spots Trish and Dez inside of Chilly Willy's. She's napping in front of a fan. Dez keeps jerking his head from the left to the right. It occurs to him he's probably on lookout for her boss. She can't get fired from this job yet.

He has Ally all to himself today.

Well, and the customers, but who would be stupid enough to leave the house on such a hot day?

Apparently a lot.

He ends up spending the morning helping her around the store. When her dad comes and offers her a lunch break he grabs her hand before she can protest.

He takes her up to the practice room. Out of the freezer he takes a pint of ice cream.

"Fruity mint swirl! But how'd you get it here without me noticing?" She pulls out two spoons and hands him one.

He smiles. "I have my ways."

If by his ways he means calling Mr. Dawson after he knows she's gone to bed and asking him for a favor. A favor that involves driving five miles out to buy his daughter's favorite ice cream because he loves her. He being Mr. Dawson.

Okay, so he also is Austin, but that's not the point.

"Thank you," she says and lifts her spoon to his. "Cheers."

"Cheers," he agrees.

(the page is broken here)

He's closing again with her. They're hugging again. Mr. Dawson is standing there again, and he pulls away. Again.

"Austin, would you like to join us? We're having a family movie night," he offers.

Ally's eyes light up. "Yeah, it'll be fun. Please Austin?"

He sighs. He wants to. But he's not family. And that's what he tells them.

"Pish posh. You two are practically conjoined at the hip," Mr. Dawson rebuts. He looks down. Her hip is right there against his.

If her dad sees this, maybe he's spending way too much time with her.

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He's seated on her couch. Her dad is on the chair next to them, keeping a watchful eye on the movie and his daughter. Because her feet are in his lap.

Austin reaches up to scratch his nose and accidentally rubs against her foot. It curls back.

Was that a giggle?

"I think I'm going to refill the popcorn."

And then there were two.

He scratches his nose and sets his hand back in his lap, making sure to hit her foot on the way down.

It was a giggle.

He runs his finger up and down her foot. He's focusing on the tv, but he can feel her eyes on him.

"Austin..." she says through the giggles.

He faces her. His finger doesn't stop. "Yeah?"

She grabs his hand. He links his fingers with her's. She doesn't expect it.

Rather than let go, he takes her other hand and does the same.

He makes no comment about it. She never finishes her thought. She just shakes her head when her dad offers them popcorn.

The movie ends.

"Don't stay up too late you two." Mr. Dawson takes the bowl into the kitchen.

"We won't dad," she calls after him.

He's still holding her hands. The music from the title screen played on loop. On it's third cycle she spoke up.


"So." He rubs his thumb over her hand.

"So," she says again, because neither of them know what to say.

"I think we've already established that," he laughs. It's a nervous laugh and it fades out uncomfortably.

They both say each other's name at the same time. It's awkward, trying to be overly courteous and let each other talk first. He lets her talk.

"Austin, you're a great friend and all. But-"

Everything drops. His face, their hands. His heart.

"-I don't want to be just friends."

It's as if someone has strapped his heart to a rocket, because it's shooting up, and he can feel the explosions.

"Ally," he starts. He can see the fear in her eyes. The same fear that was probably in his. The fear that has been wiped away, replaced with joy and jubilee. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that."

The kitchen light is still on. It's pretty obvious that Mr. Dawson is spying on them. So instead of doing what he truly wants, he kisses her cheek.

He feels his heart beat ten times faster.

(the page breaks here)

He knows Mr. Dawson told them not to stay up too late. He's sure she's fallen asleep now. He's laying on his bed. It's nearly midnight, but he's too excited to fall asleep.

Ally Dawson asked him out.

And he said yes.

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