❛ 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 '𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐄'𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓! ❜
⸻ when the enigmatic boy transforms
the redhead's quiet life into a dangerous
world of freedom, leading her t...
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DALLAS, TEXAS
OCTOBER 26th, 1989
IT WAS A COLD autumn night. He walks straight towards Dust & Dynamite's Bar. He feels the cold night breeze taking away his breath. He makes his way to the entrance of the bar, adjusting his leather jacket around his shoulders. He dodges a group of friends chatting animatedly so that he can enter the premises. Upon entering, the scent of tobacco and potato chips, mixed with the sounds of conversation, glasses clinking, and jazz playing in the background, surround him.
Beautiful waitresses float around the room with a purple atmosphere, holding trays to warmly serve the regulars.
Tall windows run the length of the wall to the left of the bar, reflecting the light when it's already dark outside. The man chooses an empty table near the large window at the back of the room and takes off his jacket, as the pleasant heat inside the bar is the complete opposite of outside.
He lit a cigarette and picked up a newspaper that had been left on the table. He hadn't been to the crowded bar for a while, but he thought it would be a good idea to go back to his hometown and relax a bit, drink a good whisky, maybe even meet an old friend for a chat. And most of all, enjoy the time he had left in freedom.
He takes a long drag on his cigarette and exhales slowly. He unconsciously reached into his pocket and froze when he realized he didn't have his wallet with him. He tilted his head back and snorted in obvious frustration. Or had he dropped it on the way?
He tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. He stood up and was thankful that his small brown leather wallet was right next to him on the floor. He crouched down and put it in his pocket, but as he prepared to return to his seat, he felt a sharp jolt followed by a tremendous burning sensation on his skin. The sound of porcelain shattering on the floor startled the other customers.
"Oh my- I'm so sorry, are you okay?" The girl he had bumped into apologized as she realized the damage that had been done. The boiling coffee on the tray had spilled all over him with the impact.
"I-I was just coming from the table and the customer called me and I looked back and... and I didn't see him coming. I apologize." She apologized, spitting out a bunch of words in a few seconds as she picked up the broken glass from the floor.
The dark-skinned young man took a deep breath so as not to blame the girl for such an inconvenience, and out of courtesy bent down to help her, a gesture the girl immediately rebuked, claiming he didn't have to.
