Outsiders imagines

Dallas

I groaned as the loud shrill of the phone echoed through my shabby living room. I sat on the couch, cocooned in a blanket, attempting to retain as much warmth as possible.

"Hello," my nasally voice greeted through the phone.

"There she is!" Dallys voice drawled, "Why don't you come on over? We can have some fun."

Normally I would be all for the booty call, but I'm really not in the condition for it currently. I've been all kinds of sick for the past two days. Sore throat, nausea, fever, you name it I got it.

"I can't Dal, I'm sick." I coughed out.

"Sick? What kind of sick?" He asked.

"What's it matter?" I rolled my eyes. "I'm sick!"

"Whatever." He muttered. "I gotta go. I'll talk to ya later."

I grumbled a goodbye of my own before slamming the phone down on the receiver. I burrowed myself even further into the blankets, if that's even possible, and continued watching TV.

I felt myself slowly dozing off, my droopy eyelids becoming to heavy to hold open. Before I could allow myself to finally succumb to sleep, an aggressive knock banged on the front door.

A deep sigh fell from my lips. I lay there for a moment hoping that whoever it was would just go away. Sadly, this was not the case. As the loud knocks started up again I pulled myself off the couch, leaving my nest of blankets empty.

Before opening the door I pulled back the curtain on the window, peaking outside. My eyebrows furrowed with confusion as I saw the side profile of Dallas Winston. I told him I couldn't see him tonight.

I opened the door already spilling words about how he needed to leave.

"Dal, I already told you. I'm sick and," I hesitated, looking to his hands. In one hand he held a bouquet of followers and in the other Tupperware. "What's that?"

"I got you flowers and soup," he muttered, looking at the items himself. "Darry said they might make you feel better."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that." I carefully pulled the flowers from his grasp, holding them to my nose as I took in their scent. This was obviously a mistake as it sent me into an immediate sneezing fit.

"Okay, that's it. You go sit down, I'll heat up your soup." He pushed his way into the house and started into the kitchen.

"Dallas, really, I can take care of myself."

"Nah, what with your parents never being here, as well as your general lack of care for yourself, I'm not leaving you here by yourself sick." He took my flowers, tossing them in a glass with some water.

"Dallas, I can,"

"Will you shut up and sit down?" He finally scolded with furrowed brows. "God forbid I try to be nice for once geez."

"Okay," I whispered. Finally agreeing. "Thank you, Dal."

I placed a soft kiss on his cheek before padding back to the couch and settling into my cocoon once more.

It wasn't but a few minutes longer that he was joining me on the couch, carrying with him a bowl of tomato soup. He placed the soup in my lap and then fell into the seat beside me, throwing an arm over my shoulders.

I sighed in content as the warm aroma surrounded my face. One spoonful in and I was already beyond thankful for the gift. Soup is good for the soul.

"What're we watching?" He asked, popping open a can of Pepsi that was in the fridge.

"Casablanca." I answered, more interested in my soup at the moment.

He grunted in response and we both began to watch the movie. We watched the movie in silence up until I finished my food, setting the bowl on the coffee table in front of me. I leaned back into my seat, draping myself over Dallys lap and cuddling my self into him. His hand found its way into my hair but his eyes never left the TV screen.

"Why'd you bring me that stuff?" I asked.

"Gotta take care of my girl." He answered.

"Your girl? Since when am I your girl?" Last I checked we had never been going steady.

"What's it matter?" He asked with a huff, annoyed I disagreed with him. "I'm not gonna let anyone se have ya, so might as well be my girl."

"Yeah, but you never asked." I pouted, my eyes looking up at him.

"Fine. Ya wanna be my girl?" He was clearly only asking as a courtesy, completely unammused by my pouting.

"Sure, Dally." I giggled, leaning up and placing a kiss on his chin. He leaned to connect our lips but I ousted back on his chest. "Dally! You'll get sick!"

"I don't give a shit. Nothing comes between me and kissing my girl." He gripped my chin, pulling my lips to his own. I smiled into the hard kiss before falling back into his lap, his lips following.

In a couple of days when he's in the same position as me, sick on his couch and coughing up a lung, I'll be there with flowers and soup in hand. This definitely isn't the way I expected the night to go, but I'm not one to complain.