~Chapter 12~

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*Trigger warning*

Violence/blood/cutting mention

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Depending on how you viewed this story, it was about Johnny Cade. Although considering his behavior now, it was hard to believe he hadn't always been paranoid. He hadn't always been living in a consumed world full of paranoia and anxiety. And really, was being more paranoid bad? Surely it would mean that Johnny Cade's life would be more safe and less dangerous.

This was what it was like when he felt people were out to kill him all the time, especially walking through Tulsa at nightfall. He was trying to be more cautious and not being eaten up by paranoia.

He'd once had been unquestioning and trusting but now, he was always suspicious of others. Always wanting to look over his shoulder, always wanting to grab that pocket-sized switch blade that lived comfortable in his jeans. He had to learn that all varsity jacket socs were dangerous, that they'd relish in beating an insignificant, smaller greaser like Johnny was. Well, that's how he viewed himself anyway - inappreciable. Which was ironic because how could someone be inappreciable and still be the centre of a kick, punch or cut.

In a way, he couldn't even blame the socs for making him feel this way, he felt this way with the gang. Maybe his head was the problem - maybe it had all been in his head all along. He knew one thing for sure, Audrey Belle didn't make him feel unappreciated. Maybe it was the way she looked at him - the way her eyes gazed directly into his, making his stomach hitch. Or maybe it was the way she could talk on and on and on and still not get bored in his presence, the way she wanted to tell these stories to him. Not Dallas, not Ponyboy, not even Two-Bit who he would always catch in incidental, prolonged conversations with Audrey, she wanted to talk to him.

For example now, fingertips nearly touching; the pair of them walked in congruous as she babbled on about almost anything that came to her mind. Her beautiful mind, he thought. He loved how Audrey had a sense of arbitrariness about her - the quality of being determined by chance, whim or even impulse. In a way, you had to have this quality to be a runaway - the sense of living life institictly, if she wanted something done, she would sure as hell do it. "I'm talking too much." She finally admitted, appearing to notice Johnny's daydreamed expression.

"No, actually I like it." He admitted truthfully, though the second part, the rational part of his own mind couldn't help but to be thriving currently. Audrey carried on with her bumbling, however, Johnny couldn't shake the extrasensory perception that something bad was about to happen, call it natural instinct if you will.

For example, one time Johnny had saved him and Ponyboy's asses by taking the shorter route to the drive-in, he had suspected that some socs were trailing them and he was correct. He found out he was correct when Buck Merrill, Dally's rodeo partner and fellow greaser, was jumped by a group of socs on the same route Ponyboy and Johnny were gonna take. He had never told Pony that he saved them both, intentionally, considering it more of a lucky chance then something heroic.

He had the same feeling now. He couldn't describe it, no words came to mind, but he couldn't shake this feeling of. Audrey noticed his facial expression again.

"Seriously Johnny, I can shut up if you need me to, what's up?" she asked, placing one reassuring hand on his shoulder. They were currently in Crutchfield park, a tedious park with only one climbing frame and a fountain. One lamp post dully lit up their faces - tinting their features with a mustard yellow.

"Nothing, I just ... hate being here at night, let's go quick." he grabbed her hand, trying to push her to walk fast paced.

"This is greaser territory right? It should be okay." Audrey tried to compose him, feeling his hand gripping around hers ever more tightly.

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