𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏'//𝑫𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏×𝑶𝑪

💥|TWELVE|💥

💥|DALLY'S POV|💥

I TAKE ANOTHER long swig of the cheap liquor I snagged from Buck Merle's. The booze didn't even burn going down anymore and if it did I couldn't feel it. That made me glad.

My eyes shift to the Soc on the ground, his face painted with blue and purple marks. Shallow breaths leave him as blood trickles from his busted face. "Please. No more." He gulps weakly, his body shaking. Poor bastard's nerves were shot. I didn't even have to hold him down anymore, he was too weak to move.

A sick smile paints my face as I crouch down to his level, taking another quick swig of my stolen booze. "I'm not a bad guy," I tell him softly, my words slightly slurred. I wasn't a bad guy. I wasn't a good man, but I was a fair one, most of the time.

"N-no, you're good." The idiot blubbers. Pathetic.

A soft chuckle falls from my lips. "I always have a reason for every man I jump." I explain, "Any idea why it had to be you?" I question the man.

The Soc starts stammering out a response, one that I didn't even care to listen to. He falls silent at the sound of my blade flicking open, his shallow breath stills. "Please, man. I-I can pay you-"

"Typical Socs always trying to use Daddy's money to get out of trouble," I state bluntly, twirling the blade between my fingers, "You're all pussies." I seethe, bringing the blade to graze his cheek. "Especially the ones who think it's okay to put their hands on a woman."

Realization dawned on the Soc as a stuttered breath left him. "I-I didn't mean to hurt the broad, man. I swear! I-it just got outta-"

"Shut up." I snap. The soc who punched Angela obeys. I stand up to my full height, my booze tight in my grasp "I don't like woman beaters, they're always pathetic. Sleazy. Pieces. Of shit!" I bark, delivering a hard kick to the Soc with the last few words of my sentence.

He passed out about halfway through my kicks, guess I kicked his head a little too hard.

I left him there in the alley, someone would find him eventually. Walking aimlessly through town, I wind up at Buck Merle's once again.

I toss the empty bottle of booze to the side, the bottle shattering to pieces from the force of my throw.

I stumble into the house, the smell of cigarettes, sex, and alcohol strong. The room was slightly dimmed, making it more difficult for me to see through my blurry eyes. How much did I drink?

I didn't care. My eyes find a patch of brown hair, a woman. She was turned away so I could only see her back. My heart aches as Angela pops into my head. It was an unwelcome feeling of longing.

One that had to be satisfied.

I make my way through the drunk people, stepping over the ones passed out on the floor and dodging the limbs of the ones dancing drunkenly. All while my eyes stay trained on Angela.

I slip my hands around her slim waist. However, I didn't feel my racing heart calm like it always did when I touched Angela. What the hell?

My confusion is quickly erased when I hear the buttery giggle of the woman who I learn is not Angela. She turns around to face me. I'm met with dark brown eyes instead of the smoky blue eyes of my Angela. The woman had a wide smile that showed off her perfectly white teeth and her scent was fruity, something like watermelon. Her hair was just like Angela's. But everything else is entirely different. She was far from Angela.

I felt disappointed.

"What are you doing here all alone?" The brown-headed girl questions. A coy smile played on her red-painted lips. She puts her hands on my chest and slowly moves them up to sit on my shoulders. Squeezing lightly. Suggestively.