Gas Station Perfume and Burnt Brownies, an Austin and Ally oneshot
I do not own Austin and Ally. Per request of mystik225. Reviews are greatly appreciated.
Until death do us part. The death of the body, the soul, love?
Promises are like fine china. They look pretty, but are easy to break. All it takes is one fumble.
It's hard not to fumble when your pants are around your ankles.
"Julian?" She wants to puke, but she hasn't eaten since before the concert, hours ago. Her stomach is empty, twisted in knots. She wants to take a knife to the knots.
Austin would prefer to employ that knife for other means.
Like cutting this guy out of her life, completely.
What kind of jerk cheats on the most beautiful girl in the world while she's off on tour?
"Ally, I can explain." He hoists his pants up. Accidentally bumping into Ally, frozen in the doorway, the mistress scurries away.
"You're sleeping with your secretary?" Throwing the engagement ring off her finger, she storms out of the room.
Austin gets up from his viewing spot on the couch and follows her out. It's hard to keep up, at the pace she's going, and considering that his shoe is untied, but he hobbles along after her.
Boarding the tour bus, they shut the door.
"Coming home was a mistake." She sits at the breakfast nook, elbows to knees.
"Maybe not," he counters, taking the other side of the seat.
Lifting her eyes to meet his, she questions, "What do you mean?"
He attempts to push the fruit bowl away until he remembers that it's glued to the table. Positioning himself around it, he grabs her hands.
Her fingers intertwine with his.
"You deserve more than some two timing cheater who smells like gas station perfume and burnt brownies." He lets go to scratch his nose. Her hand feels naked without his, and he is soon to replace it.
The comfort returns.
Julian may have physically cheated on her, but hadn't she emotionally done the same thing? Secrets he kept for her, jokes she had laughed all too hard at. The line between best friend and boyfriend is a blurry one.
(Trish excluded, because she's not a guy, and she is happily with Dez.)
"It's cologne, Austin."
"I'm pretty sure it's perfume." He makes a face, and she lets out a giggle.
Now is not the time for giggling. Now is the time for big fat tear drops and pounds of ice cream.
Two faults with that statement.
One, with her hands in his, she finds it hard to be upset. There's a feeling of shelter and security.
Two, if she eats pounds of ice cream, she won't be able to perform tonight. It's going to be hard enough, with her heart in the gutter. No need to complicate things. It may be best to do a stripped down concert tonight.
The music. There will be no stripping of the clothes.
Oh God, not again.
Maybe it is the time for big fat tear drops.
And ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.
She's not even hungry.
"Come here." He stands, enveloping her in a hug. It occurs to him he should let go of her hands. Then she can participate.
He likes when she participates.
He likes it better when she's not crying.
"Should we tell the driver we're ready to go?"
"In a minute."
Pounding on the door. "Ally!"
He lets her go, and making eye contact through the window, he tells the driver to start the bus.
Coral Gables, here they come. Too many hours early, but they can't stay here.
Fantasies are mingling with nightmares.
Yes, he can finally cuddle her and tell her how he really feels.
No, he shouldn't do these things.
He needs to be her rock.
Telling her would be like making a mountain out of pebbles.
It only takes one move to make it all collapse. They built this friendship on the foundation of platonic love. He can't break that.
He can, but then their friendship wouldn't be the only thing broken.
He doesn't want to have his heart go to pebbles.
One heart of pebbles is plenty for this bus, and Ally has called dibs.
"Oof!" She stumbles over his tee shirt, lying on the ground. What's it doing on the ground?
The memory hits her.
They'd stopped to take care of their laundry, and he'd been telling her to hurry up, nudging her along with his basket. Frustrated, she'd turned around, knocking his basket with her own, and the clothes had gone flying.
She'd thought that they'd picked up all the clothes.
She'd thought wrong.
She's been doing a lot of that lately. Thinking that her fiance would be faithful, thinking that the laundry was picked up, that her fans wouldn't tear her clothes off during her private meet and greet. Austin had tried to warn her to wear layers, but she ignored his warning.
It wasn't exactly the way she'd pictured him seeing her in her underwear. That doesn't mean that she pictured him seeing her half naked. Goodness, not even her fiance had seen her in her that bare.
It's probably why he cheated on her.
"Do you think that Julian cheated on me because I wouldn't sleep with him?" she asks when he joins her on the floor.
"I think he cheated on you because he's an idiot."
"He was not an idiot."
"Ally, he couldn't even make brownies from a box." He takes the shirt from her, setting it aside. "And he let go of someone really wonderful."
She flinches as the bus goes over a bump. "Probably shouldn't be having this conversation on the floor."
"Yeah." He puts out a hand for her.
They don't part until the concert.
She does strip her set down, and he surprises her by following suit, because he wants her to feel comfortable. It's him, his guitar and ten thousand fans. The biggest of which is backstage.
Until he calls her out of the shadows.
"This last song was written by my best friend and partner. Ally, would you come out here?" he beckons, playing the first few chords.
"When you're on your own
And you need a rope that can pull you in
Someone will throw it."
He's playing their song.
She's been with Julian for two years, and he never played her their song.
They never had a song.
They had a broken relationship.
Whose fault? She hadn't been the one to take a sledgehammer to it all.
"Thanks." For the song, for being there, for the ice cream dish he's passing her at the late night diner they've stopped at.
"I'll always be here for you Ally."
Until death do they part.