losing sleep ➵ dallas winston

one

I glared down at the drink in my hand, swirling the clear liquid around in the small glass it was in. I wasn't drunk, I'd barely been drinking tonight. Usually, I'm always down to have a few drinks at Buck's, but tonight felt different. I had a horrible feeling in my stomach, and it only worsened as I slumped over the bar.

With my head down on the wood, I felt someone shake my shoulder. I raised my head and groaned, clutching my drink. I turned over my shoulder and saw an unfamiliar girl. I don't think I've ever seen her before. I tilted my head at her, and she spoke. "Um, there's a guy outside. He's looking for you."

"And who am I?" I asked, suspicious that this random girl supposedly knew who I was.

"Um, Brooklyn?" She said, taking a step back from me as I got up from my seat. I left my drink on the bar, I didn't want to lose the glass and have to pay Buck extra.

I pushed the door open, leaving the girl inside. The sharp night air hit my nose, and I inhaled sharply. I took in the scent of cigarettes and booze, sighing as I looked around for anyone familiar.

I spotted a blue mustang, and my eyes widened. "Oh my fucking god," I muttered. "Really Bob?" I yelled out into the darkness. I looked around me, watching behind me. I was not in the mood to fight.

"Chill out Brooke," I heard in my ear. I shivered at the noise and swatted Bob's face away from mine.

"What could you possibly want?" I said, scowling at him.

He stepped out in front of me, shrugging. "Just wanted to see you I guess."
I scoffed, "Bullshit."

"No bullshit here, babe." He said, laughing at his own remark.

"Ew, don't call me that," I said, "We never were, and never will be a thing, Bob." He looked a little taken aback by that. "After all, I am just a cruddy JD, right?" I paused, "Now, what do you really want?" I said, stepping away from him.

"Nothing, I mean, really it was nothing. Just- forget it." He said, walking away, back towards his car.

I turned to face the doors. I almost felt bad for him. It seemed like I embarrassed him or something.

I shrugged it off, he didn't mean anything to me anyway. He doesn't care about my feelings, so I decided to not care about his.

I pulled the door and sunk back into the darkness of the bar. The neon lights were blinding, and being outside was a lot more calming, but I didn't want to leave. I returned to my chair and resumed glaring down at my drink. I noticed a little more bubbles than usual, but didn't pay any mind to it. I finally took my first sip, letting the liquid crawl down my throat.

I looked back down, wondering what the hell I ordered. "Buck! Yo, Buck," I called for the man behind the bar.

"What's up Brooke?" he replied, walking over and leaning on the counter in front of me.

"Do you remember what I ordered?" I asked, feeling a pulse in my head.

"Just a vodka," He replied, looking at me funny as I held my head in my hands.

"Gotcha, thanks," I said, waving him away. I didn't want to waste his time, but God, my head hurt.

After being slumped over the bar for a few, I decided it'd be best if I just went home. I stood up, grabbing the counter for support. I wavered, but ultimately I could walk. I started toward the door, and halfway there I felt someone grab my arms. "Hey-" I yelled, immediately being cut off by a finger shushing me.

A familiar face stepped in front of me. Bob. He waved at me, moving his finger off my mouth.

I tried to move my arms out of his friend's grasps, but I felt so weak. I could barely move my arms, let alone break out of a grasp. I hung my head, giving up. But Bob grabbed my chin and moved my face to look at him. "C'mon doll, let's go," He waved his friends to move, and they picked me up and headed for the door.

"No, no," I muttered, barely able to move my mouth.

"Bob, what the hell are you doing?" I heard an unfamiliar voice. They had an accent, but I couldn't quite place it.

My vision was fuzzy, but I could make out a pretty tall boy. He had dark brown hair, but that's all I could see. I closed my eyes and listened.

"What's it to you, Winston?" Bob spoke.

"Well you know, I was just wondering since it looks like you're committing a crime." The boy with the accent said.

"No crimes here," Bob said, laughing. "Besides, when have you ever given a shit about the law?"
"I give a shit when it's you committing the crime." I opened my eyes and saw the two boys face to face.

"Yeah?" Bob said, rolling up his sleeves.

"Absolutely," The boy said, a grin spreading across his face. I watched as he landed a punch square on Bob's jaw.

I felt a pain spike from the back of my head. I realized the two boys dropped me and were now trying to protect Bob. I watched the boy land one more punch before Bob and his friends retreated out of the bar. "Don't come back!" He yelled after them, watching them run out the door.

He then turned to me. He kneeled down on the floor next to me, picking me up in his arms. I didn't know who he was, but I felt safe. I leaned into his chest and fell asleep

--

The room was dark when I woke up. I sat up in bed, wondering what time it was. I hoped that it was morning, not wanting to walk home in the middle of the night. As I became more conscious of my surroundings, I noticed the boy from earlier. He was on the floor, asleep.

Clutching the blanket I had to my chest, I poked him with my foot. He mumbled and rolled over, so I poked him again. He groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. "What time is it?" He said. His voice was incredibly raspy, but the accent was still there.

I smiled at him, looking away when he took his hands off his face. "I dunno," I replied, turning back to him. He had sat up and was grazing his eyes over my body. I realized I wasn't wearing a shirt. Quickly, I looked under the blankets, and thank God, my pants were still on.

"You took it off, not me," He said, pulling a shirt over his head.

"What?" I replied, not realizing he had caught on to my train of thought.

"The shirt," he said, searching around the room. Eventually, he pulled out a leather jacket, I think he was wearing it last night. He reached into the pocket and pulled out a pack of cigs. He opened it, taking one out. He then tilted the box towards me. I repeated his actions, but I leaned into him, waiting for a light. He first lit his, with the lighter in his jeans pocket. He then leaned over to me, with the cigarette in his mouth, and lit my cig with his.

I turned away, blushing slightly. "Thanks," I murmured, putting my cigarette in my mouth and taking a puff. A few seconds of silence passed, but finally, I broke it. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?" He replied, grinning at me.

"Helping me out last night," I said, rolling my eyes at him.

"Oh, right." He said, scratching the back of his head.

"I'm Brooklyn," I said, extending a hand out to him.

He took it, but instead of shaking it, he kissed my hand.

I breathed in, smiling. I shook his face away from my hand, prompting him to reply.

"Dallas, Winston." He said, slipping on his leather jacket.

I looked around the floor of his room, searching for my shirt. I found it and pulled it on. I found my jacket as well and turned towards the door. I turned back, looking at Dallas for a moment. He looked right back, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth and dragging his eyes up and down my frame.

I blinked myself out of my thoughts, and raised my hand, saluting Dallas. I turned on my heel and walked out the door, disappearing back into the bar.