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The world was a big empty space, filled with useless things and even more useless people who would never give a damn about a lowlife hood like Dallas Winston. He hung onto life by a thread, a soft little yard that curled around his fingertips and threatened to snap at any moment.
Virginia Curtis was one of those things that kept him holding on. He could see her now, bathed in golden light inside her house as she messed around with her younger brother. A flutter erupted in his stomach— which wasn't the smoke from his cigarette. From outside the house's window, he saw her turn around, wearing an unsuspecting grin on her face that shined like the stars dotting the night sky. Her fingertips brushed a stray curl out of her face and he wanted to hear her laugh. It was better than the prettiest music itself. He had been so mesmerized he had not noticed the sound of a car door slamming.
"Dally."
Dallas turned to the right. The corner of his mouth twisted up, smoke venting from his lips. He never gave the man a proper smile. "Hey, Darry."
The eldest Curtis shifted the toolbelt over his shoulder. Though he saw bigger plans for himself creeping around the corner, he still had to put food on the table but days of toil and sweat were pushing him closer and closer to his goals. The pain pulsating in his back was of no concern. Not at that moment.
"Been a while."
"Yeah... yeah, it has, man," Dallas muttered, particularly disinterested in the small-talk. He wanted silence and usually, Darrel Curtis was the one for it compared to his rambunctious brothers and sister.
The older man nodded, his bulging arms crossed over his chest. He himself wasn't prone to bouts of sweetness or emotion but there was a glimmer of sincerity in his tone. "We miss you, Dal. Sure hope you're stayin' on the wagon."
Dallas lazily flicked the remains of his cigarette into the ashy graveyard of golden tips that littered the ground. "Don't worry about me, Darry. I'm doin' fine."
Darrel Curtis held many priorities in life. His siblings—his children, more like—were of utmost importance. Family mattered for as long as he could remember and many people had become tangled in that web of care. Dallas Winston included, for quite some time. In his eyes, Dallas was the same aloof, frigid young boy who Two-Bit and Steve dragged into his house so many years ago when the sun shone brighter in his life. Darry didn't have to look down— the young man just barely met his height but when looked at him, he saw an obstacle in his beloved sister's life.
"Look, Dally, you-you can't be here," Darry advised cautiously. He puffed out his chest just a bit, knowing Dallas had enough respect for him to not lash out in violence.
That was why the hood just stared at him like he made the funniest joke in the world. He shrugged. "Just passin' by, man. Don't worry."
"Don't..." Darry trailed off, shaking his head in a near amused disbelief. "You don't think I see you lookin' at my little sister? Don't think I know what you want?"
