I Hate You | Dallas Winston [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter 8

Posted earlier than I wanted because I am impatient

Violence
This chapter is kinda dumb just a warning

So, in short, you started off with a bitchass day and are not in a very happy mood.

"Jeez, what's gonna help me today." You were thinking of an alcohol to drink before entering Buck's.
You decided on asking him for something strong first.

"Howdy, Y/N!" Buck shouted over the loud crowd.
"Hey, Buck." You yelled out back, less enthusiastic. "Beer as usual?"
"Eh. Can I have something else? Strong thing you have?"
"Well what posessed you? I'll check." He walked over to where you assume his stronger stuff was, maybe. "I got some uh, whisky if that's your taste! Vodka!" Buck yelled out from where he was.
Vodka sounds like it would taste like a weird plastic for some reason. Whisky sounds like it would taste more medicine-y.

"Uh, both? NO- WHISKY! Whisky! A shot!" You panicked out words.
"Alrighty!" You saw Buck coming back over taking a shot glass with him.
"That it?" He said screwing off the whisky's top.
"A beer too, please."
Buck took out a beer from the minifridge under the counter and put it down, still pouring the shot. This man impressed you sometimes considering he just poured a shot and somehow also reached a beer from under the counter.
Experience, you guessed.

You gave him the money and took down the shot.
Instead of the sorta medicine taste you partially expected, you tasted this smoky, briny liquid instead.
Buck took the shot glass and walked away. You sat and processed what you just tasted and slowly took a sip from your beer.
"Interesting." You rated it.

You took another sip and just leaned on the counter, suddently feeling someone elbow you, hard, in the back. You turned around, "Fuck's your problem?" You hissed out at the man that didn't even apologize, your original mood came back.
You got a bit relieved you didn't say that to a lady or even a man who said 'sorry', you would've beaten yourself up for it. You just don't talk to a chick like that, always been a rule in your family.
"Ey, you looking for a fight?" he spat back. You could smell the alcohol grossly from his breath.

"Maybe I am." You responded. The fucks you got yourself into?
The man turned fully around and socked you in the gut. This felt a bit dramatic considering all he could've done was apologize or you could've just ignored it. You stood up, in pain, and punched him back in the mouth. It was the closest you could get while trying to stand up. The man put his hand up to his face, possibly in shock you actually responded and then pushed you back onto the counter and punched your nose.

You immediately felt blood starting to flow and leaned against the counter for a second before slamming your body into the other's. You weren't thinking straight, you grabbed out your blade that you somehow remembered.
The man crashed into two or three people and then came back running at you, doing the thing he can do best, swinging punches at you.
He didn't have a blade like you did, though, so he had something coming for him.

You blocked a few of his punches and swung your blade at him, missing, before you could try again you felt someone interlock your shoulders with their arms so you could barely even move your arms or even get loose.
"Get lost." You heard the familiar person say to the man fighting you.

You looked over your shoulder to see- oh! Guess who! Dallas!
"Christ, you're bleeding." He mumbled, started dragging you back to his room while you were trying to get out of his grip.

He threw you to his room's floor, closing the door and locking it. Extra step to you leaving.
Dallas left to grab a towel for your nose.
"Did you really have to shove me to the floor??" You yelled at him.
"You wouldn't stop moving." He calmly responded.
"You owe me a beer. I didn't even finish that one." You stared at him walking out of the bathroom.
Dallas handed you the towel, you snatched it out of his hand while loosening your death-grip on the blade you were still holding.

"Give me that." Dallas demanded.
"No, it's mine." You spoke back.
"Give me that, please."
"I don't think I've ever heard you say 'please' before in my life, Winston." You squinted, and he quickly took the blade from you.
"YOU-"
"I asked nicely." He interrupted and put the blade in his pocket.

"What were you fighting that guy for anyway? What'd he do?" He questioned you, feeling like you didn't have a choice to answer or not you said back "He wanted a fight so I gave him one."

Your hand brushed up at a cut on your left cheek while you were trying to scratch your hair. You winced, it stung, Dallas noticed.
You're still sitting on the ground, Dallas kneeled infront of you and put his finger under your jaw to move your face.
You were shocked, of course, because what in the absolute fuck.
He let go and walked away to get something. You sat there with your eyebrows furrowed in complete confusion, How come you couldn't think? You didn't know. He touched your face.

Dallas walked back in with a hand towel covered in soap and water.
He walked back to you and did the same thing except cleaned your wound instead of just staring.
You did not know what to do. You didn't feel how much you hated him at this moment. Did you even hate him? Why are you thinking so much of it anyway?

"Your face is hot--" Dallas cut himself off, "I mean temperature-wise. Are you sick?" He continued.
"What? No I'm not?" You responded back to his weird statement. Weird delivery.
"Then why are you heating up?" He let go of you, you shrugged back.

He was staring at you, just staring for no reason. "Keep asking me questions and I'm smearing this blood on you." You joked at him holding up your bloody towel.
"You're sick." Dallas smiled and stood back up. "My nose hurts." You mumbled.
"No duh, you got punched, Y/N."
"How do you know?" You looked at him.
"I was watching."
"And you didn't help me?"
He looked like he was about to say something.
"It- nevermind just continue stopping the blood would you?" Dallas muttered through his teeth while he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

You shrugged it off, didn't matter.
"You got any pain killers?" You asked Dallas.
"Maybe, I don't remember if I ran out or not." He put down the towel next to him and got up, walking back soon with a first aid kit.
"Oh boy what are you gonna put on me now---and-and what would you need a whole bottle of pain killers for??"
"A bandaid and don't ask." He responded to both.
"Don't put that on me," you smacked Dallas's hand away.
He tried again, grabbing your hand when you tried smacking him off again.
"I hate the feeling of bandaids." You mumbled angerly. "Too bad." He smirked at you.
You stared at him with your still somewhat bleeding nose and faceplanted to his chest.
"I WASN'T KIDDING ABOUT THE BLOOD." you loudly muffled out.
"THIS IS A CLEAN SHIRT--"
"NOT ANYMORE!"
Dallas kept trying to push you off but you still had that towel anyway. You kept wacking at him with it and he kept pushing you away, soon got far enough he was keeping you back with his feet. You couldn't reach him anymore so you gave up.

Dallas threw the soapy towel at you, out of panic you threw the bloody towel you were holding at him by accident.

---

After cleaning for a bit, "Maybe I should head home." You suddenly spoke out.
"You need someone to walk with you?" Dallas asked putting on another clean shirt. "No, I'll be fine." You responded standing up.
"Alright. Be safe, d-- Y/N." He cut himself off.
"Yeah, bye Dally." You told him while ripping off your bandaid and throwing at the floor when you left his room. You left Buck's with a smile.

Atleast you got what you came for, a different feeling than upset.

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A/N: shit chapter but it includes Dal this time so enjoy enjoy boys