It almost worked

Chapter 3- Johnny

                  ୨⎯ Chapter 3- Johnny ⎯୧

I woke up to the soft hum of the city outside. The sun was barely up, casting pale streaks of light across the floor.

I blinked a few times, slowly shaking off the remnants of sleep. My body felt heavy, like it had barely rested, but I pushed through it. Another day. Another weird morning with Dallas.

I got up, still groggy, and made my way to the bathroom. The cool tile felt good under my feet, grounding me, as I stepped under the shower's warm spray.

The water ran over me, steam filling the room, and for a moment, everything felt a little clearer. I wasn't sure what had happened in the last few days, but there was something about Dallas that made everything more... complicated. He wasn't just some random guy who had walked into my life.

There was something else. I couldn't figure it out yet, but I felt it in my bones.

After a quick shower, I dried off, wrapped myself in a towel, and got dressed. I didn't have anywhere to go today, and my mind kept bouncing from thought to thought, never staying still long enough to settle on anything. I pulled on old T-shirt and a pair of Pajama pants.

I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed a single strawberry from the fridge. It was the only thing I had left in there, but it was sweet and cold, and it brought a small sense of normalcy to my morning. I savored it, trying not to let my thoughts spiral out of control.

When I finished, I walked back into the living room, glancing at the couch. Dallas was still asleep, his back slouched against the cushions, his legs sprawled out lazily. He looked so... relaxed, completely at ease. And for the first time,

I really looked at him. His hair was messy, and the shirt he was wearing—again, the same one from yesterday—was wrinkled, but there was something about him. The way his jawline was sharp,

the way his lips twitched into a half-smile in his sleep. Something about him....made my heart beat a little faster,

and I couldn't ignore it. I didn't know why, but there was a kind of heat radiating off him, even as he lay there half unconscious.

I couldn't help but wonder why, out of all the people he could've robbed, he had chosen me. I didn't exactly live in a fancy place, and I wasn't the kind of person who would have anything valuable to steal. Still, it was strange.

I stood there for a moment, just watching him. He stirred a little, but didn't wake up. I took a breath, mentally preparing myself to ask the question that had been sitting at the back of my mind.

"Hey," I said, breaking the silence, "why haven't you stolen anything from me?"

Dallas shifted on the couch, blinking as he rubbed his eyes. He looked up at me, his gaze lazy but sharp. A slow smirk crept across his face as he let out a soft, almost amused chuckle.

"Why would I steal from you?" he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep. "You're quiet. Shy. A little nervous." His eyes lingered on me for a moment before he shifted his position, sitting up. "But maybe you're tough. And... I don't know. You kinda remind me of Johnny."

My heart skipped at the mention of Johnny. I tried not to let it show, but there was a lump in my throat. Johnny. The name brought back all kinds of memories. I'd heard stories about Johnny, about how he was tough but quiet, how he had been loyal to his friends. I didn't know him personally, but from everything Dallas had said, Johnny had been someone worth respecting.

Dallas leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes still on me. "Johnny... He wouldn't steal from someone he thought was decent. He wasn't like that. And you're decent, Y/N. I can tell."

I didn't know how to respond. I felt this strange mix of feelings—confusion, flattery, discomfort. Why was Dallas comparing me to Johnny? What did that even mean? I wasn't some hardened, tough-as-nails greaser like they were. I wasn't trying to live up to some ideal of toughness.

"I'm not like him," I muttered, almost to myself. "I'm not that tough."

Dallas gave me a look, something almost fond in his eyes. "You don't have to be like him to be tough. Johnny had his own way. He wasn't a show-off, didn't go around trying to prove anything to anyone. He just did what he had to do. When things got tough, he stood his ground.

And that's what I see in you. You're not afraid to stand up for yourself. Even when things are rough, you still got that quiet strength."

I blinked, the words hitting me harder than I expected. Quiet strength? Was that really how he saw me? I had never thought of myself that way.

The way he said it, though, made me feel something in my chest. Like maybe I wasn't as weak or scared as I thought. Maybe I could handle things, even when the world felt like it was caving in.

Dallas shifted again, sitting up fully now, and leaned back against the armrest. He looked a little more awake now, the sleepy haze starting to fade from his expression.

"You remind me of Johnny a lot, actually," he continued, his voice softer. "He was always quiet, but he never took shit from anyone. He was loyal to the people he cared about, and he had this way about him, like he didn't need to prove anything. He just was."

I didn't know how to process all of that. The comparison to Johnny was both comforting and strange. But one thing stuck with me: Dallas respected Johnny. And now, for some reason, he respected me too. That made me feel a little lighter, even if I wasn't sure how to take all of this.

"I don't think I'm like him," I said softly, almost feeling guilty for not living up to this image of tough, stoic strength. "But... I appreciate that you think so."

Dallas shrugged nonchalantly, his lips curling into that lazy half-smile again. "Doesn't matter if you think so or not. It's how I see you."

I didn't know what to say to that. Instead, I just nodded, my mind racing. Maybe he saw something in me that I didn't see in myself. Or maybe, just maybe,

it was the first time someone actually believed in me in a way I couldn't even believe in myself. I wasn't sure which, but I felt it in my gut—maybe I could start to trust him. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't like the rest of the world.

And for some reason, that made me want to believe in him too.

Dal sure loves Johnny