L I Z
I'd cleaned Dallas' cut. He looked tuffer with the new scar gracing his features. I had nowhere to go, and although I promised Pony and Johnny I'd meet them up, I can't find it in my heart to leave Dallas. He still managed to look really hot, even with a large scar on his face, which baffled me because he was beyond gorgeous without it.
We laid together on Dallas' spring mattress, just holding each other. I can see why people thought of our relationship to be weird at first; it's odd for a celebrity to be with a criminal. I guess it looks that way unless you view from Dallas and I's perspectives. There's something about Dallas- he's like a breath of fresh air in early morning, but he's also like a consistent strike of lightning, you never know what he'll do. Most importantly, Dallas is youth. He's the feeling of thinking you're invincible in your insane teenage years. He's being naïve and doing 90 on the freeway at midnight, when you know the risks you're taking.
I love that about him. He's a sense of freedom, not being tied down. I call it youth; everyone else calls it criminal.
"Dal?" I mumbled into his chest.
"Mhmm."
"Why do people see us as a princess and a criminal? It's like, no one thinks we're right for each other except maybe the gang." I pondered.
"People see us how they want to see us. They're crazy if they think we aren't right for each other." His opinionated tone left a comfort in me, he thinks we're right for each other.
"Are they as crazy as you?" I joked, intertwining my small hand in his.
"I ain't crazy, baby, I'm real. But, I guess you can call me crazy for you."
A series of giggles erupted from my chest as I mentally repeated his cheesy pick-up line.
"I have to admit, Dal, that was pretty smooth of you." I winked, settling down.
"Gosh, I know, I'm great aren't I? Please, no flash photography." He shot his famous smirk at me.
Dallas reached over and lifted my small frame, making me squeal. He placed me on his lap as he sat upright, a half-burned cigarette dangling from his mouth. As we kept staring at each other, I noticed that Dallas always has a cigarette or cigar in hand.
"What's it like to smoke, Dal?" I suddenly asked.
Dallas sighed and put his cigarette out on his ash tray, and leaned his forehead against mine, "You ain't thinking about doin' that, right?"
"Well, I mean everyone does it, so-"
"Liz. Promise me that you ain't gonna put one cigarette between these lips. Not even when I'm long gone." Dallas demanded quietly.
"Okay, Dal. I promise. Not even when you're long gone."
With that, I pecked his lips and pulled away, only to have him pull me back and kiss me deeper. This kiss was needy, it was like Dallas hadn't seen me in years; almost like he missed me. Which can't be possible, Dallas never misses anyone. His lips felt chaste on mine as he took my bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a moan from me. I could feel his boastful smirk as I ground my hips down on his lap. This time I earned a moan from him, making me smirk.
"Are we gonna play this game, doll?" Dallas pulled for air, smirking.
"If you want to." I winked cheekily.
Dallas bit his lip and stared at me quietly. I couldn't figure out his emotions, so I blankly stared back.
"We've been through a lot, haven't we?" Dallas quietly stated, his hair falling perfectly over his eyes.
"Yeah, we have." My heart rate quickened by the second as I got anxious to where he was going with this.
He took my small hand in his big one, and I felt a cool metal around my ring finger. He'd given me his beloved Christopher, the one he gave all his girls when he gets with them.
"I want you to keep it. You don't have to give it back or anything like that, just keep it." His nearly black eyes bored into mine.
God, I just love this boy.
D A L L A S
I slipped the silver ring onto her ring finger, watching as her face curved into a happy expression. I usually give my girls the Christopher ring so people know that they're my girl, no one else can have her. But giving this ring to Liz is different; it's not like showing my dominance over her, or claiming her as my own. Not this time. This ring is a promise to her now. I'm pretty sure I won't be cleaning my act any time soon, that's just how it is. But, if I can promise her that we'll build this relationship to something even deeper, it's all we need.
I lifted her off of my lap and we laid there together, spooning. My hand draped over her small waist and played with her fingers. It was just us, as we were, nothing else.
I think Liz is maybe the one. I don't know, I've never had a girl for this long, but Liz is just perfect. I'm just a Jockey, and Liz is just perfect.
She sees what nobody else sees. I might be a complete criminal, there's no lying about that, but Elizabeth sees more than just my label. She knows all the little things about me, like I know about her. She knows that I like getting cigarettes from Soda and Steve because they'll just give them to me for free. She knows about my mother, my father, my adventures in New York, my fugitive record around the country, everything. She knows.
Liz is my only true freedom. I mean, I'm Dallas Winston, I have all the freedom in the world, but she's real freedom. When I'm with her it's like a breath of fresh air from this town. She's worth all the money on Earth to me. I feel so numb to the evil in the world when her lips are against mine, or when she holds my hand.
And God, she's just so beautiful. Her defined facial features, her dark eyes that are the size of saucers, and her long, natural hair just leave me weak. Not to mention her body in itself is a package.
I'm in love with Elizabeth Alexandria Curtis, and I'm not ashamed to admit that.
