Downfall | Austin Butler

Chapter 22

(hi homies, ya girl is back & betta than evaaaaa !! anyways, here is the aus pov you've all been waiting for. enjoy!)
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and if it all ended tomorrow
would i be the one on your mind?
your mind? your mind?
— intro (end of the world),
ariana grande

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AUSTIN BUTLER

"Okay, um....waffles or pancakes?" Rianne asked me as we stepped into Sunshine Spot on an ironically sunny Thursday morning. It had been approximately three days since she had fallen and fractured her ankle – completely my fault – which also meant that it had been three days since I had the bright idea of kissing her, two days since the mechanics came to fix the elevator, and one day since I stopped worrying about Rianne attempting to go up and down the stairs on her own.

She'd probably think otherwise though considering I managed to be there every time she left and returned to her apartment — being insistent on driving her to and from work. Something I pitched again today. Something she didn't turn down.

That was more partially because of a chain of events, starting with Sydney overhearing her talking to me on the phone, which led Sydney telling her friend Levi to say no if Rianne asked for a ride to work. I heard the entire thing when Rianne called me back in a rant about how they were such "shit stirrers" and I tried my hardest to hold back a laugh as I devoured the frustration in her voice, picturing her hand motioning about as if she was in the same exact room as me.

It was comforting, how present she felt, how present her voice was — taking up the space in a house that managed to make me feel so empty ever since I returned to L.A.. It stopped me from thinking about how pointless it was to unpack when I'd be leaving once again.

"Hm..." I thought over her extremely simple question for a moment, finding it hard to come up with a reply when she looked up at me – her small frame wrapped around those crutches of hers, that prior to my better judgment made me want to just scoop her up and carry her everywhere. But, I knew she absolutely hated that. She made it very clear the other day, so since then I've refrained – well....only when necessary. "Waffles – yeah waffles," I repeated, as I held the door open for her so she could walk through.

"Good choice," she hummed in approval, stepping – well crutching really through the threshold. "The square craters are better for sure," she revealed as the door shut behind us and the ring of the little bell above gave out. "Totally gives it character."

"Craters?" a laugh escaped me as I questioned, wondering if I had heard her correctly. The thing was I probably had. If there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that Rianne could never fail at surprising me. She had a knack with words. I mean of course she did. The girl loved to read. Morseso, she had a knack at coming up with the most random word associations I've ever heard – something that drew me to her from the start.

I wedged my way beside her in line for a table.

"Yeah, you know..." she began as my hand materialized against her back and I moved in closer so I could hear her better, meeting the soft blue cotton of the button up she was wearing. The color accentuated the blue of her eyes, making them pop. "Craters," she enunciated casually, as if her terminology about waffle structure was common knowledge.

"Yeah?" I stepped up in line rather amused, and her jean clad legs with one white converse did too. ''You mean the plate grid?"

"Technically sure," she huffed, and our conversation got cut off a moment as I relayed a table for two to the hostess, "but that's not very fun and spacey, Butt-ler," she revealed while I directed her in front of me at this point so we could be seated.