there's things i wanna say to you
but i'll just let you live
like if you hold me without hurting me
you'll be the first who ever did
there's things i wanna talk about,
but better not to give
but if you hold me without hurting me
you'll be the first who ever did
— cinnamon girl, lana del rey
——
Remember what I said about not wanting to fall again?
If you're wondering – no I did not fall a second time, but I was pretty sure I was this close to fucking doing so with the way Austin was assessing me.
He made me feel like a total toddler who was taking steps for the first time, but instead of it being a joyous occasion, it seemed to be more nerve wrecking. Especially with him looking like he was gonna shit himself every time I tried to use the crutches the doctor literally gave me.
To sum it up for you in less than so many words, yes – my little ankle injury sure wasn't as little as I was making it out to be, nor what I expected it to be.
The good news was that I didn't break it. The bad news was that it wasn't just a sprain. More like a fracture. They figured that out after some x-rays and other shit that took far too long. So long that I was so sure it was midnight by the time we got out of there with my newest fashion statement – a bulky ass boot – attached to my leg until further notice. But, it wasn't. It was roughly around 9:30 pm which wasn't as bad as I thought but definitely not ideal.
Now, I was staring up at the never ending stairway in my apartment complex mentally cursing myself when I realized I was gonna have to climb this whole bad boy like King Kong.
"Hey," Austin rasped, suddenly spawning out of literally nowhere. "You good?"
Well technically not nowhere. He was everywhere really.
He'd been hot on my heels from the moment I fell, but for just a second – finally finding myself back in the vicinity of the place I called home– the idea of him being there kind of escaped me. To be completely honest, I didn't expect him to still be here. I tried my best not to make it known to him when he braced a gentle hand on my back – his touch doing that thing again. Icing my whole body over with an unnecessary array of shivers while simultaneously leaving a layer of heat in its wake.
It kind of felt like a fever.
Was I getting sick?
"Rianne," he repeated, his head craning over so he could take in my line of vision, eyes searching mine for some sort of answer.
"Um." I blinked. "Yeah," I gulped, steadying my position on the crutches and stepping forward to escape his touch so I could speak coherently. I hated how easily he affected me. How he rendered me speechless with the simplest actions. "Yeah," I repeated again, nudging my head at the stairway in front of us, "just dreading the fact that I am gonna have to figure out how to get up and down these stairs everyday."
"Wait." His face scrunched up momentarily before his eyes lit up, serving the usual whiplash that I'd been coming more and more accustomed to the longer I spent time with him. "Isn't there an elevator? I swore I saw one that night when I came up for coffee."
No fucking clue how the hell he remembered that when we literally passed through so quickly.
"No – well," I sighed, closing my fists around the crutches as tightly as I could, "technically there is, but it's out of order. Been for years."
"Years?" His voice raised an unexpected octave.
I bit my tongue and squinted at the ceiling to look like I was thinking it over when I was really trying to stop myself from laughing. "Yep," I affirmed. "Pretty sure it broke down before we moved in, and they just never fixed it."
"Never fixed it." He repeated what I said as if he couldn't get it through his skull that this was actually real life. It honestly wasn't that deep, but suddenly it was becoming a real drama scene when he took his cap off and swiped his hair back for the second time today before dropping it back on his head.
"It's fine though," I assured him. "Syd always says it's like the broken elevator from the Big Bang Theory."
I paid close attention to the way his face transformed, eyes crinkling and dimples carving into the planes of his cheeks as a smile took over. "Like the one Leonard blew up?"
"Exactly!" I chirped. "I think it gives it some real character. Makes it – ah!" I almost fell over when my grip loosened on one of the crutches as I was trying to advance him. I was so strung up in our current conversation, I momentarily forgot my ankle was situated in a whole ugly ass boot.
"Careful," he warned, wrapping an arm around my waist to steady me once again. "And , it's not fine." He challenged. "They should really fix that."
So we were back to square one: in his hold with his serious mode switched back on.
Lovely.
Could this get any worse?
"Unfortunately, our landlords don't really give a shit." This time I was careful when detaching myself from the left crutch, nudging my shoulder at Austin. I figured it was best to switch the topic at hand. Besides , I was in no mood when it came to standing here forever. The show needed to get on the road. "Here, can you take this one so I can try to get up the stairs with this bad boy?" I attempted to wiggle my bad leg for emphasis, but it didn't really move much considering my current circumstances.
"Yeah." He took it from me without hesitation, and I quickly grasped the railing so I could anchor myself. I swore he said something behind me, but I couldn't be sure. It definitely was a mumble of sorts, but I let it go. He was probably still all worked up over the elevator thing.
The next – what I figured were a few minutes – were simply tortuous. Here I thought Austin being hot on my heel before was bad, but now it proved to be ten times worse with him practically up my ass at this rate.
Not literally, but you get the point.
Hey! Don't be dirty now.
"Dude!" I hissed when I finally got fed the fuck up. I literally could feel him hovering like a teacher watching their student intently do an assignment. Seriously, his breath was fanning against my back and it was driving me insane. There was no shot in hell I could focus on my footing with him all up in the bizz.
"What?" His deep voice softened out behind me, oh-so innocently it pulled at my heart strings for just a moment until my brain got the memo and knew not to buy it.
Bracing my left hand on the railing to support myself, I twisted my body as best as I could with this damn crutch practically stabbing me in the armpit to look at him. "Whatever this is." I huffed in pure stress.
"Am I bothering you?" His voice was laced with a newfound amusement.
"I feel —" I gulped when I took in how attentive he was once again. Smirking at me and all. His pretty little face was eating up my irritation like it was free ice cream while simultaneously hanging onto every goddamn word that was flying out of my mouth like I was Shakespeare — about to drop some literary masterpiece for the ages. "I feel like your foot is shoved so far up my ass that I literally can't do a single thing on my own!" I admitted. "So yes, you are in fact bothering me."
Pretty peachy literary prose if I do say so myself.
Wonderful.
Kudos to the wonderful Mr. Red Forman of Point Place, Wisconsin.
Great, now he was looking at me like I had ten heads. "My bad," he chuckled, raising his hands up in defeat and full surrender. "No feet in asses." He moved down a step and over more to the right so he could be out of my way.
We'll see about that, Butt-ler!
Too focused on trying to get up the stairs in one piece, I didn't say a word as I maneuvered back into my original position — gripping the rail and my crutch for dear life. Biting down on my bottom lip, I tried to convince myself that putting all my weight on my non-dominant foot wouldn't be hard. I'd already gone up a few steps — wobbly as ever with Austin fucking clouding every last brain cell I had which was clearly infecting my motor skills.
How could his presence do that? I couldn't tell you. Would probably need a full fledged investigation or an entire social experiment — dropping him in a room with a crowd of people to see what was up with all that.
If they were all like Levi — lord, please fucking help us!
Something about that mental image totally threw me off, but in a good way — if that made any sense at all. I managed to step my left foot down and lift my right side up with no issues whatsoever. "See!" I practically chirped, swinging my head around so I could throw it in Austin's face that I could do it all on my own. "Look at that! You can call me a whole acrobat!"
"Slow your roll, miss funambulist," he said matter of factly, clearly not as elated as me over it — understandably so. It was then that I noticed we were only on the fourth step. Why did it feel like I had gone up twenty since we got here? "Let's see about the next one before we start considering acrobatics, yeah?"
This man.
Did I really look that helpless to him, or did he just have the innate quality — one where he always felt inclined to help people, no matter the situation?
Also a funambulist.
When did he hit the circus?
Oh right! That fucking hand trick — with all those goddamn coffees.
Now, I could really call him an entire balancing Butler. I bet he hid some hidden juggling talent on the side. I could test this theory and figure it out the next time I ran into him at the Spot. Just make Sherry throw some fruit at him from behind the counter and call it a day.
"Alright, mister technical terms," I chided, shaking my head. Two could play this game! "You won't be laughing when I become the world's best tight rope walker."
Leaning against the railing on the other side, he wiped his free hand over his face — as if that alone would get him out of this conversation. I was so sure he was gonna say something else — bite right back with some sort of rebuttal, but when he dropped his hand to his side, he just stood there, head tilted with the deepest smolder smoldering across his face. So smoldery that I wondered how the fuck I wasn't burning alive right now.
Twisting a bit, I dropped my ass on the railing. It looked like we were gonna be here awhile with the way he was perched so comfortably. "What?" I huffed once I settled. I unfortunately knew what that look meant. The wheels were turning in his head again, and he'd either tell me what was up or completely brush it off like he had done in the waiting room — which, might I add, was still driving me crazy.
Sometimes I wished I could spend just a day in his head to understand what the hell was going on in that big butt ass Butler brain of his.
Instead of giving me some sort of explanation, he kept his stance pretty solid. Just looking at me as if I hadn't said anything at all – as if I wasn't standing right here in front of him. His gaze was kind of freaking me the fuck out for reasons I could not necessarily decipher right then and there. All I knew was that there was something about him. Something about Austin where he could catch your eye for just a second and suck you into his entire world and be just as transfixed into your own. That notion alone terrified me to no end. It terrified me because I knew I couldn't let anyone into my world like that again.
"What is it?" I couldn't let this go. "Is there something on my face?" I shifted my hip against the railing as I lifted a hand up to access my face. "Because if there is, just be straight up with me. Don't be an ass."
"An ass?" He breathed, pushing off the railing on his end.
"Yeah," I asserted but found my voice cracking around the edges when he narrowed the gap between us, his knees brushing against my own as he found himself on my side of the stairwell.
"I can never win with you, can I?" he breathed, dropping his hands on the railing at my sides, one still carefully – caging me in.
What the fuck?
No like what the fuck?
How was I supposed to answer that?
I didn't know what to say so I just shrugged.
"Alright." His eyes blazed with something unrecognizable. "Since I'm such an ass, I might as well haul some, Sol-ass."
Excuse me?
What now?
This man didn't even give me a chance – literally not a single chance to try to figure out what the fuck he was going on about. Next thing I knew, his hands gripped my waist and I was being lifted up in the air like a paper fucking airplane. My poor crutch dropped out of my hands and landed God knows where. "Ah!" I yelped. "Aust–" My voice died in my throat when he tossed me over his shoulder – carrying me like a fucking sack of potatoes.
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
So this was what he fucking meant.
Man, he really was an ass!
"There we go," he huffed out once he seemed satisfied with the way I was settled, and then he started moving – heading up the stairs with me fucking upside down in close quarters with his literal ass! It was giving a total boomerang over the shoulder stance with his arm firmly tucked around my calves, keeping me practically glued to him.
First the piggy back ride and now this? Could a girl ever catch a break?
Did he ever get tired of this or was this his body building goal? To lift a whole grown girl in the air like a weight lift so he could go back to his buddies and brag about his supposed 'lifts for Jesus'. Couldn't fucking tell you what that meant. All I knew was that Dax liked to say some shit like that whenever I asked him to carry a load of boxes across the store.
"Austin!" I hissed, my hands clawing at the back of his shirt for some sort of support. My face was this close to being smacked right into his butt with the way I was swaying. Now that was a total 180 to the whole foot in the ass thing – which in all due honesty was kind of genius coming from him. On the other hand, the whole 'hauling some serious Sol-ass' or whatever the fuck came out of his mouth before this was downright awful. A total dad joke if you will. "What the fuck?" I sputtered. "I can totally kick you in the balls right now, you idiot!" I could feel all the blood rushing to my head as I tried to bang my fists against his back.
Clearly, I was no match for him because instead of him relenting like I hoped for, he just laughed – his entire body musing against me. "But you won't." I was fucking glad I wasn't facing him right about now because i would've totally lost it if I saw that shit-eating grin on his face – completely fucking smug as shit. "You like the view too much."
The what now? There was no shot in hell he just said that – was there?
"Oh fucking please!" The laugh that flew out of me was disturbing as shit. I must have sounded like a hyena with the amount of giggles that were spewing out of me with no mercy. "You shouldn't mess with a girl that has a bulk of a boot on her foot. Especially when she can inflict some serious damage." Too caught up in the moment, I barely even gave it a second thought when I lightly slapped his jean cladded ass – my hand grazing the rough fabric denim of his back pocket. "You –" I was about to go off on a whole other rant when he stopped short – leaving me quite fucking flustered when my face got far too close to his ass.
My nose almost bumped right into him!
I didn't even have a chance to digest the fact that I was almost full on face planted into his butt when he took me by surprise for the billionth time today. "You wanted to be an acrobat, right?"
"A what?" It took me a minute to remember our previous conversation since my brain was all kinds of scrambled upside down and all. I was sure the blood was doing wonders for my brain cells right about now. "I mean, yeah but that's funambulist to you."
A light chuckle escaped him, proving to me that my joke struck a nerve with him. "Make fun of me all you want," he began before tossing me over again. The newfound movement freaked me out, and I snapped my eyes closed – preparing myself for the worst – only to feel myself go just about nowhere. When I managed to stop holding my breath and open my eyes, I was met with him looking down at me seemingly proud as punch. It took me a moment to take in how I ended up like this — on my back, looking up at him. But then it registered that he had flipped me over like a fucking burger and now I was in his arms in a style I hated admitting. Bridal. Just fucking lovely. I guessed he really wanted to go down every possible route today. Did he have some sort of bucket list I didn't know about? Was he gonna go home after this and check off piggyback, over the shoulder, and bridal? Were there even any more holding styles to exhaust? "But you can't deny that I just made your acrobatic dreams come true, Ree."
Oh no.
Oh fucking no.
He did not just —
There it was again. That weird fucking feeling creeping within me — where my heart felt like it was in my stomach. Exactly how it felt when you reached the peak of a rollercoaster, only to be dropped. To anyone else, this small yet miniscule sentence being vocalized could be nothing — the absolute minimum, just a simple joke, but knowing that he had matched my humor after everything. Fucking entertained it for me made it impossible for me to be annoyed at him. Impossible to keep a straight face. Even when I felt so awfully vulnerable in his arms — being held when I told him I was just fine walking on my own.
It felt kind of nice when it shouldn't.
Once whatever that was decided to dissolve out of my system, my girl boss ideologies jumped right back in. "Whatever," I huffed, trying to curb the curving smile that was bound to appear with the remnants of my previous thoughts. I didn't have to worry too much. Not when a yawn escaped me — proving just how exhausted I truly was. Physically and mentally. It had been such a long day, I was ready to get in my jammies and call it a night.
"You're tired. I know," he cooed suddenly. Again, it was really looking like he was cradling me like a baby at this rate. "Where's your keys so I can get you inside?"
"In my bag." I motioned towards my tote on his arm. He insisted on carrying it for me ever since I got the crutches. "Just swing it over." He obliged, letting the bag fall down his arm so I could rifle through it and grab the keys. "This is interesting," I mumbled.
"What is?" He asked.
"Trying to open the door sideways." I explained, tilting my head and sticking the key in the lock so I could attempt what I was going on about. "Never have before. Maybe it will take me five minutes less to open it this way."
"Five minutes less?" Too focused on the door I didn't bother looking at him, but it wouldn't take a rocket science to decode how confused he sounded.
"Yeah." I bit down on my lower lip when the door did not budge on the first turn. "The mechanism is all kinds of fucked."
He let out a deep breath against me. "First your elevator, now your door. What else is broken in this place?"
"That's a loaded question," I scoffed, cursing under my breath when it didn't work the other way either.
It wasn't surprising. As I said before, and I'll continue to say it time and time again — our landlord was a real dick head.
Austin's arms flexed under me, his fingers pressing lightly into my side like he was scared I was gonna fall suddenly out of his grasp. "Maybe I'll just have to stay here until it all gets fixed," he stated so casually, if I wasn't so concentrated at the task at hand I would have probably lost my mind.
"Well, looks like that will be forever." Words flew out of my mouth. "I'm sure pigs will fly before my landlord decides to grow a pair of balls and do his actual j— oh my God! I did it!" I almost hopped out of Austin's arms like a hot potato — ready to do a whole dance — when the door clicked, and I got the sucker open. "That had to be at least two minutes less," I went on when Austin nudged the door the rest of the way and carried me into the threshold.
When I looked at him he sure as shit did not seem to be as impressed as me.
More unimpressed.
"It shouldn't take you more than ten seconds to open a door." He grumbled, setting me down on the couch in the living room so I could put my foot up. He was a real pain in the ass about that earlier and from the looks of it he wasn't giving up anytime soon. "Comfy?" He asked once he slipped a pillow under my bad ankle. "Need anything?"
"Snug as a bug in a rug," I sing-songed, enjoying this shift in our banter. It was nice finally being the one to push his buttons and bug him. "Nope, I think I am good."
"Good," he stated matter-of-factly, quickly scanning me before he walked over to the door.
Instead of walking out and going down to retrieve my crutches, he just stood there — his hands on his hips with his back facing towards me, hip jutted out and all like a whole diva. "Um, what are you doing?"
"Fixing your door," he voiced. Was he serious? Suddenly, he crouched down to examine it. Oh, so he was serious? I sure saw a whole lot of his ass today.
I mean — I really couldn't complain.
It did look good.
Shut up, noggin!
"You wanna play handyman?" I mused, reaching over to grab the remote on the coffee table. "Be my guest." I turned it on, switching the sources or whatever the fuck so I could just binge that 70s show. It was good background noise in the midst of whatever this was. I didn't even have to watch it to know what was going on. I knew it like the back of my hand. "I cannot tell you where the tool box is though. I doubt we even own one of those bad boys."
"I'll figure it out."
That was it. In less than a minute, Austin had managed to find the toolbox in our hall closet — something I couldn't remember having until he pulled it out. The thing was so fucking dusty, it showed. And then, for a whole half hour he whipped out all the goods and worked on the door. I tried to distract myself with the show, and a water he ended up retrieving for me from the fridge, but every now and then I'd glance over at him — making sure he wasn't working himself too hard. I appreciated him taking the time, but it was all really unnecessary.
Plus, the whole thing made me feel weird. I wasn't used to whatever this was. We were just fine with the fucked up door to begin with. We could survive if he couldn't get it to work in his ten second minimum shit.
I was in the middle of watching one of my favorite episodes — the one where Eric says he loves cake when Donna says she loves him.
My guy could really be a dickhead himself sometimes.
Fucking Forman.
But anyways, I was in the middle of watching the scene where Eric chucks a fudgesicle at Kelso and Kelso dives headfirst into the floor to get it — cracks me up every goddamn time — when Austin chriped a 'done' from across the room.
"Seriously?" I piped up, practically out of breath in the midst of my laughter. I paused the television so I could give him my full attention. It was the least I could do considering.
"Yep," he confirmed, grasping the key off the counter, stepping outside, closing the door, and giving me a whole demonstration. It only took a few seconds for that familiar click to resonate throughout the complex and then he was stepping through with no issues.
He had fixed my fucked up door.
"Less than ten seconds flat too," I praised, as he walked over to me after picking up the toolbox and putting it away. I spun in my seat, placing the pillow on the coffee table so I could leave him an open spot. "Sit. Relax a little," I patted the seat next to me with the remote, pressing play in the process to keep the show going.
Again, it was the least I could do.
I wasn't gonna just kick him out and be like, "great you fixed the door, sayonara my dude!" Absolutely fucking not. He annoyed me to no end, but I wasn't one to be rude. Besides, Syd wasn't home again so it was just me, and it was late. Sure, my door was fixed, but that didn't mean it fixed all my problems. I couldn't deny how frazzled I still was from my walk home on Saturday. Still two days later, and I was fucking terrified of walking at night. For once, I wanted to thank the universe that this happened.
That I didn't have to walk home tonight.
That Austin had driven me.
In a weird way it all worked out.
He took my invitation without question, dropping his own water bottle I offered him on the coffee table before slumping down, the cushion of the couch dipping beneath him. His arm dropped against the top of the couch, sneaking behind my head. His other held onto his hat that he took off when he walked over. "What're you watching?"
"What am I watching?" I gasped, clutching the remote to my chest like I was Dolly Parton clutching her pearls. That's how stunned I was. "Only the best show to ever grace the planet."
"Yeah?" He shifted in his seat a little, leading his fingers to brush through my hair on accident. "I'd think so considering you've been laughing since the moment the TV turned on."
"Oh God!" I hid my face in my hands for a moment, trying to wash out the embarrassment that ensued from realizing Austin listened to me the entire time he worked. The fact that he was literally in the room with me and could hear me just didn't — for some reason — register in my mind until right about now. "It's that 70s show, Butt-ler, and yes it is the best show," I began, once I was able to collect myself enough to point the remote at the television and defend my favorite show, "I said what I said."
"Noted." A smile cracked onto his face. "If it makes you feel better I've seen a few episodes and I like it, but I haven't seen it enough to know it like I suspect you do."
I braced my hands on my lap like we were having a serious conversation. Like we were in court in the midst of a debate. "Understandable." I put my best judge-like voice on. I couldn't lie. He was pretty good at making a comment in a neutral matter — playing Switzerland and all. He could of said something along the lines of, "I wouldn't say it's the best...." But he didn't. Which kind of took me by surprise. Most times people were quick to tell me how it was. And don't get me wrong. I was all for one's personal opinions, but sometimes people could be really foul about them — knocking down someone else's spirit with a simple sentence. A simple array of jumbled words arranged in a way that could just make you feel like crap about something you liked. This stuck with me. It really did. "Have you seen this one?" I asked him, clicking back so I can show him the episode title.
"No." He shook his head, leaning back into his seat. "I don't think so."
"Perfect," I mused, pressing play and dropping the remote in between us. "Now we gotta watch it! Can you hit the lights for me, dude?"
"Sure thing." His eyes seemed to gleam with something I hadn't seen before as he reached over and shut the lamp off on the side table — enveloping us in a some-what darkness. Considering the TV was on, it wasn't like it was pitch black up in here.
I rewinded the entire thing — starting it from scratch. I gave him a little rundown on what was going on, so he could understand a little bit of the plot line. I hadn't realized it until we got to the scene with Kelso that I was watching earlier that somehow — the two of us had managed to move closer to each other on the couch. Or maybe it was just me since I kept leaning over to explain things to him every now and then. He actually seemed pretty interested in it and asked me quick little questions, made a comment when he enjoyed something, or laughed when he found something funny.
It was nice seeing him relaxed and carefree.
Not that he wasn't at times before, but there was just something different about right here — right now — that I couldn't explain even if I tried.
"Oh! Wait! Wait!" I chirped, tucking my good foot under my thigh — moving over so I could alert him. "This part is gold!" I praised, grasping onto his arm without even realizing.
"Donna check it out," Eric began, walking over to the basement freezer and whipping out a fudgsicle. "Hey Kelso!" He called, whisking the thing around like he was throwing it to some dog. "Fudsicle!"
Kelso, being the lovely dumbass he was, didn't give it a second thought when he dropped the magazine in his hand and dived head first — totally missing the whole thing.
And then I was fucking laughing again.
But this time, I was clutching onto Austin for dear life as I laughed my whole ass off. It only got worse when Kelso was still looking for the damn thing and Fez was literally eating it behind him.
I was so lost in the entire thing — losing my fucking mind that I hadn't realized my head had ended up against Austin's chest and his arm had wrapped around me — his hand clad on my shoulder and he laughed with me. It was when I heard those familiar vibrations against my ear that I registered he was there and I was there and tht he started to laugh as well.
Fuck.
Blinking a few times, I took a steady breath as I unclenched my fist from his shirt. Grabbing onto it was another thing I must have done in the midst of all this.
Shit.
Shit.
He cleared his throat suddenly. "You're right." His voice almost sounded strained when the words came out. Breathless. Probably from all that laughing. I could feel the warmth of his breath against the top of my head. "You've sold me."
"Um — yeah." When I looked up at him, I didn't realize how close I really was to him. My nose brushed against his, and my breath caught in my throat immediately. The hand that was once clutched to his shirt dropped to his thigh. Somehow I was having a hard time letting go. "Told ya," I breathed, feeling his own breath mix with my own. My eyes landed on his cherry lips — watching as he bit down on the bottom one before letting them part completely. It only lasted a second. A second that drifted away when I panicked and pulled away from him.
He dropped his hand from my shoulder when I adjusted myself back in my seat. "Uh —" he rubbed his hand against his thigh — the one I had just dropped my hand onto only a minute ago — taking a second to look around. I couldn't fully tell, but it almost looked like his cheeks were flushed when he looked over at me. "Can I use your bathroom quickly?"
"Oh — um — yeah, of course!" I turned away immediately to point in the general direction. "It's down the hall to the left."
He stood up, twisting a little as he stretched his long legs and fixed his stature. "Thank you," he murmured before walking away.
Now alone, I just about wanted to die.
Something felt downright weird about that. Weirder than before, and I couldn't understand it. Sure, Austin and I had some odd fucking encounters in the past, but this — this was strange. It felt like some unusual energy shot through the room and floated between. Like someone fucked up some chemistry experiement and didn't give us the memo on how to go about moving forward with fixing it.
For some reason, the idea that it couldn't be fixed found a home in the forefront of my mind. So apparent that when he came back, I was sure someone had possessed me.
I sure as shit didn't feel like myself.
I watched closely when he sat back down again, dropping his arm against the top of the couch like it never left. He was so casual — he made it look like nothing happened. And maybe it really hadn't. Maybe it was just me. Blinking his eyes a few times, he dipped further into the coach until he closed his eyes off from the world. Or from the television really that already started the next episode. It seemed like neither of us were gonna pay a sliver of attention now.
I couldn't help but stare at him. I took in how tired he appeared with his eyes snapped shut. Even though he told me he supposedly wanted to take me to the ER and that I had somehow made his day — whatever that meant — I still felt really fucking bad. Bad that he wasted all of his time with me and wasted even more time fixing my door. Bad that I wasn't sure if he really meant what he said or if he was just saying it because he felt like he had to under the circumstances. No matter what it was, I still needed to be grateful.
When I cleared my throat suddenly, he opened his eyes and turned his head to face me. The side of his cheek nuzzled into the fabric of the couch and his hair pressed against it as well — curling up against his forehead. He looked kind-of cute all squashed up — the edge of his lip curving to compensate for the skin of his cheek all propped up with the couch. It was then that I realized he kind of looked like a golden retriever and that thought stuck with me for longer than I anticipated — becoming more and more apparent over time.
"Thank you," I murmured, allowing my own head to lull back into the cushion as well — my hair lightly grazing his hand. "You really didn't have to do that. You know, the door and all."
Pursing his lips momentarily, his eyes gleamed all at once against the light of the television. "As I said before — Wanted to," he admitted for a second time today. "Makes me feel better knowing you're safe."
Makes me feel better knowing you're safe.
Makes me feel better knowing you're safe.
With a greater darkness pervading the space, and only the light of the television providing us a decent amount of light — I didn't feel as intimated as I usually did in front of him. "Why?" I breathed, finally asking him something that was always on my mind whenever I was around him.
His lips and forehead puckered simultaneously, leaving a crease between his brows. Clearly, he was confused as to why I would ask such a thing. "Because I care."
He cared.
Sure, everybody cared about something, but I couldn't understand why he cared about me?
The words got caught against my tongue, and I chickened out on asking him directly so all that came out was, "why do you care?"
Maybe it was a stupid question. Maybe it wasn't. But, I couldn't deny the fact that we'd only just met a few weeks ago and he was just everywhere. For reasons I did not know.
He turned his body over then, the coach creaking under him with his movements as he leaned over — closing the gap between us. "Do you not want me to?" His sea filled eyes searched mine in all seriousness.
"I —"
I wanted to say: That's exactly what I want. I want you to stop whipping out your wallet every time I buy a coffee. I want you to stop insisting on driving me places. I want you to stop making me laugh and smile with your jokes and your charm. I want you to stop bringing me to the ER and fixing my door. I want you to stop looking at me the way you do. And most of all, I want you to stop making me happy because I just can't handle it anymore!
Instead I said, "I can take care of myself." It came out shaky and unsteady, and I hated myself for how weak I sounded.
Austin didn't seem to find any flaw in it. "I know you can," he stated sternly, his fingers finding a home in my hair — twisting one of the strands around. "I just —"
"Ri, you aren't gonna believe this — holy shit!" An all too familiar voice came flooding in — breaking the dam that had built up between us. "No fucking way this is real." Snapping my eyes shut, I took a sliver of a second to compose myself. Austin must have slipped away the moment we were interrupted because I no longer felt his presence, and it showed. Something ached deep within me when the realization struck, but I couldn't entertain it with these new sets of nerves taking over. It didn't take me long to figure out it was Sydney who came barreling in when I turned around. "Ri! Did you see this shit?" It looked like she hadn't even bothered looking up. Too busy with the door knob and all to care. She looked like a child who just figured out the most miniscule thing, but it was so new and so monumental — it was worth hyping up.
"Syd, little mama," Another familiar yet far from unexpected voice resonated out behind her. "What's the hold up? Won't you move? You're gonna ruin my whole entrance."
His whole — what?
"Oh shut it, Brock! You can show her in a second. I gotta test this shit again." She closed the door and opened it again with her key. Seeming too stunned to speak. "That's crazy!"
"I'm confused," Brock groaned. "It's literally a door. I don't understand the hype here."
She opened the door more than just a crack this time, stepping through the threshold without even giving us a sliver of a glance before she spun on her heel, clicked on the main light, and went off on Brock. "It's fixed, you dumbass." It was then that he came into view, in the middle of the doorway — with what looked to be crutches under his arm. It hit me like a ton of bricks then that those weren't just any crutches.
They were my crutches!
It totally slipped my mind that they fell down the stairs when Austin picked me up, and that we never went back to retrieve them. It was so far removed from my mind, and now all I could see were those stupid crutches haphazardly thrown down the stairs with Brock and Syd excavating them — confused out of their fucking minds.
Grasping onto the arm of the couch for dear life, I couldn't find it in me to crack out a laugh when the entire thing felt like a car wreck. From Austin talking to me only a minute ago to this — it was hard for me to adjust to the entire thing, let alone come to terms with the fact that he was about to say something to me. Something that was probably a lot more vulnerable than I anticipated.
Now, here I was — frozen in place — as Syd and Brock bantered back and forth. As if they hadn't just walked into the midst of an intense conversation.
And, yes I knew they didn't know. I knew they couldn't know.
I couldn't even look at him.
That was how shook up I was.
"Remember the last time we came up here, and I couldn't get the door open?" Syd continued, whisking us all back into whatever this scene was. She had her hands on her hips at this point, and she seemed a little annoyed.
Well, annoyed at Brock that is.
"Um —" Brock propped his right arm up on one of the crutches, scratching the back of his perm in thought. "Sure?" He definitely did not have a clue what she was going on about.
"Do you not remember anything?" Syd huffed, rolling her eyes at the broccoli man in front of her. "Do I have to —"
Before she could get all fumed up and go off, Brock peeked his head in — face transforming into something else as he looked over at me and then Austin. "Oh fuck!" He skirted around Syd — walking in with the crutches and all — pulling off a whole acting gig. "Am I losing it, or is that you, Austin?"
I guessed this was what he meant by grand entrance?
Austin cleared his throat behind me — like it pained him to open his mouth. "Oh — um — hey, yeah. Hi Brock. How're you?"
Now, this was the part I wasn't anticipating.
The part where Syd turned around and took in everything. Took in the fact that the guy she asked me to drive the day of her work crisis was in fact sitting on her couch. And, not just on her couch— but on her couch next to her best friend nothing-the-less.
It felt like a fucking fever dream when she finally did — her eyes trailing from Brock to us. You could see the twist of confusion transform to one of shock as she found me as I was.
She didn't even let out a sound when she almost tripped over her heel — her hand reaching up to her face as she covered the gasp that was bound to leave her lips. Eyes bulging like saucers, her purse fell from her hands — landing to the floor with the loudest of duds. So loud, you could hear every content swishing around in her bag as it hit the floor.
And then, she was gone — out the door, with her bag lonesome on our wooden floor.
That was when I knew — I fucked up.
——
ah! it do be getting juicy. wonder how miss syd is gonna handle all this.
also, brock is such a silly goose!
firsty, i'd like to apologize for being so MIA when it comes to updates. i've had this chapter idea looming in my head for two months, and every time i tried to write it — i downright hated everything i wrote.
however, in good news, it worked out, and she's here! i actually resorted back to my original idea which makes me happy that i pushed through and got out what i was looking for!
on another note, i am just as sad as the rest of us that the elvis movie did not win an oscar, but at the end of the day — it isn't the real award. the real award is the aura and dedication that surrounds this movie. the truth of the matter is that austin brought elvis back to us, and baz made that happen. baz opened the door back to elvis, and now the fanbase expanded to younger generations and broadened within the community. i recently saw a tumblr post that said something along the lines of the real reward being the friends we made along the way, and it really stuck with me. i hope it sticks with you too. :)
even though the era seems to be over, it isn't for me. this movie changed my life.
i'll still be updating this story of course! love austin and can't wait to see what he is bound to accomplish and achieve in the future! <3
ANYWAYS that 70s show still/meme time....
syd and brock barging in like:
— all my love,
xanadu