Estelle awoke wrapped in an embrace, something that had never really happened to her. That she remembered, at least. She didn't know quite what to think of it.
She tried to wiggle her way out, but Dally just groaned in his sleep and pulled her closer to his chest. She felt his breath hot on the side of her neck, his bare chest warm, and his strong thin arms tight across her waist. She felt safe, but she also couldn't move, and that made her feel a bit panicked.
She took a few deep breaths, and pushed away the dark memories of her past that were creeping back to the front of her mind.
She turned her head to look at Dally's sleeping fave. She smiled. He looked so peaceful, an expression never seen on Dallas Winston's face. She was going to wake him up, but instead decided to just let him sleep. She could deal.
_____
Dally woke up with his arms tightly wrapped around Estelle's body. He quickly remembered the night before, which helped give him some context. Some. It still didn't explain why his chest was completely pressed to her back, his head resting on her shoulder.It wasn't a completely unfortunate situation, he couldn't say he didn't enjoy it at least a little bit. Her hair was soft and smelled good, and her body fit comfortably around his.
Nevertheless, he forced himself to get up and out of her bed. There were things he had to do, and even if he wanted to he couldn't just lay there all day. Besides, she would be awake soon too, and he didn't want to be around for her to ask questions.
After doing morning chores he chose to do, he came back into the house to find Estelle sitting on the couch watching television while there was a plate of food on the table.
"This mine?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, I just left it on the table to make the ghosts happy. Yes it's yours, dumbass."
"Did you eat?"
"Does it matter?"
"No, unless you didn't."
"I did. But you don't have to keep acting like you care, I'll be fine."
He glared at her. "For someone who cares so much about my life, you really don't give a shit about your own."
She shrugged. "Cause I love you. I don't love myself though. No one really does."
"I mean, Ponyboy does. And you're my friend, I guess."
"Ponyboy loving me is one of the worst things that boy could possibly do. And you just said, you don't love me. The best you can call me is your friend."
That stung a bit, Dally wasn't satisfied simply calling Estelle his friend. It didn't seem like the right term to describe their, relationship.
"Well I never said it always had to be like that now did I?" He smirked.
"No, no you didn't. But the way you tiptoe around my every move and act like I'm a kid who needs to take care of and not a literal murderer, it's not gonna change till you change the way you treat me."
"I know you're a criminal. But you just act so, normal, I guess. Like jail and the streets never hardened you up."
"Oh, believe me. They did. I just didn't let it seal me over. I've decided to act like it makes me stronger."
"Well is it working?"
"No," she admitted. "I'm just so tired of being broken. So if I have to make another personality, make a new person out of myself and become a little puppet in my life, then I will."
"But why? Wouldn't it just be easier to let go?"
"It would. But every time I've seriously considered it I just can't. I can't end up forcing myself to do anything. But we're getting off topic. Dally you did chores this morning, you need to eat. Especially while the food is still hot."
He sat down at the table, amd slowly ate, taking time to savor the food, something he'd never done in the past. He'd never had a reason to.
Estelle smiled, simply because Dally looked happy.
"Why are you staying at me like that?"
"Because you aren't scowling. You're so pretty when you aren't scowling."
"Don't call me pretty. I ain't a girl."
"I'm sorry, you're attractive when you're not scowling. But you're doing it again."
"What?"
"Scowling."
YOU ARE READING
Porcelain
FanfictionBabydoll was an enigma. No one really knew how he got the name, but it sure fit his big blue eyes and innocent look. But looks can be deceiving, no one's face tells their whole story. Babydoll was as tough a greaser as any, rivalled only by one. But...