Strum, an Austin and Ally oneshot
I do not own Austin and Ally. Based on a prompt from Kim Crawford. Please leave a review!
Knotting the blindfold around her head, he sets the guitar in her lap.
"We're going to get you to perform with the guitar without looking down." Austin positions her fingers in the correct position.
"But then how will I see where to put my fingers?"
"It'll just feel right."
Like how right his hand feels on top of hers?
Please say she isn't the only one that felt that.
"It's never going to work." The guitar. The jury is still out on their relationship.
"It's going to work."
She needs to convince herself that he's still talking about the guitar lessons. Never did he even mention their relationship. She just has a lot on her mind.
Austin is the only thing on her mind.
A lot of Austin.
She brushes her hand along something. It's not the guitar strings, her original aim.
"Probably should have moved my hand first." The feeling of his fingers leave her for a moment, and then they're wrapping around her hand, leading it to the body of the guitar.
Strum down against the strings.
She likes the feeling of his hand better.
But this isn't a lesson in the art of Austin Moon. This is a guitar lesson. With a blindfold.
Something that he is thankful for, because now she can't see him blushing.
"I think I got it." She strums repeatedly, C chord, C chord, C chord.
"That's great Ally. Now lets try a D Chord." Her smile falters, brow furrowing. He thinks it's furrowing anyway. It's hard to tell with the blindfold in the way. She can't see a thing, but in a way, neither can he. All that expression harnessed in her eyes is a mystery to him.
Almost as if this is a blind date.
Almost. She may be blind, but this is no date.
He really wishes it was a date. A non-blind date, because he can see, and he wants to see her.
As if he ever sees anything else when she's around.
Last week she had come into math class in her gym shorts because she sat in red paint, and no girl should wander around in those conditions. Rushing into her seat, she had dropped her pencil.
He should have offered to pick that pencil up for her.
So many things he can't unsee.
So many things he doesn't want to unsee.
In fact, he'd like to see them again.
Does that make him a terrible best friend, or just horny? Please excuse him for letting his hormones take over.
It turns out that a classmate had choked on a piece of gum during class, and he hadn't even noticed. He was too busy staring at those legs of hers.
She plays a wonky chord, snapping him back to the present.
"I can't do this."
"You can do this. I believe in you."
She readjusts her fingers, counting the strings and frets. Strum.
It sounds perfect.
Maybe that's why she's being so careful about the steps she's taking with Austin, counting and planning instead of guessing. It leads to perfection.
And boredom, and antsyness, and heartbreak.
Oodles of it.
"I did it!" She wants to hug him. If only she could see where he was. Putting her hand in the air, he high fives it.
Close enough. For now.
It's not enough as the motions get easier, and she doesn't have to count. Then she deserves more than a high five. In love too. What did she ever do to deserve a solid record of zero boyfriends?
Perhaps it's what she didn't do.
"I think you're ready to try without the blindfold," he tells her, working the knot with his fingers. He's standing in front of her, so it's trickier than anticipated.
He should have gotten behind her. Stupid knot and it's stupid- hey, it came undone.
"Nothing," he replies, busying himself with the blindfold. There's no way she caught him staring into her eyes.
It was a really long time without those eyes.
Yup, still just as pretty as he remembered them to be.
"Should we see if it worked?"
"I think we should take a break. I'm starving." His eyes dart to her mouth, back up to her eyes.
Food. He wants real, edible food. To fill his stomach.
He is not going to eat Ally.
Shoot, he's looking at her mouth again.
"Okay, sounds good." The guitar gets left on the stand, the blindfold poking out of his back pocket.
Other things that sound good that afternoon: hot fudge sundaes, tables built for two, letting him get the chocolate sauce off her face. Delicious, cozy, and spine tingling.
Her spine is still tingling.
Maybe she's just cold.
Maybe it's the fact that his arm keeps rubbing against hers as they walk back to the store.
"It looks like I missed a spot." There's a small speck on the bottom of her chin, hardly perceptible, unless you've been staring at her.
He will admit to nothing.
Even if he is guilty.
He's totally guilty.
"Don't worry, I'll get it."
Just like that, it's gone. The tingles do not vanish with it.
They follow him up the stairs, into the practice room, where she picks up the guitar, looks at the frets and plays a C chord.
An entire song, staring at those frets.
She hasn't regressed. She has, however, lost the ability to look him in the eye. Those eyes that she'll get lost in, and lean forward until she hits the guitar in her lap.
"You're looking down again."
"Sorry." Closing her eyes, her fingers work the neck, playing with her head high.
"Awesome!" she hears him say. "How about you try opening your eyes this time?"
Turning down his request would have been the smart thing to do.
Things Ally can't find within the current moment: the frets, her mind, her tongue.
Austin directs her hands to the proper position. Strum.
Strum, strum, strum.
Success. Time for another high five.
That was not a high five.
Nobody high fives with their lips.
That's more of a, what, high two? Two for each lip, high because she feels so elated right now.
"We did it."
It being the kiss, or getting her to not look down?
She's going to go with both.
He pushes the guitar aside, drawing her nearer.
It would seem that he's going with both as well.
Looks like the guitar strings aren't the only ones getting strummed today. Her heart strings are too, no more tugging.
And no more looking down.