reckless 【 dallas winston 】

eleven.

Leigh decided she didn't want to leave Dally that night. He never went home, he stayed at his room at Buck's, and she just went right along. She still hated it at Buck's place and thought he was an ass but she felt it worth it to stay the night with Dallas. They were up until one, play fighting, talking, Leigh even got him to play a few hand-clapping games with her. She did that with Dorothy all the time and it was fun that he was open to playing little games like concentration or down down baby.

They'd been together for a few months now, and only once before did a passionate kiss lead to more between the two of them. Dallas was very sexual, but Leigh wanted to make sure she knew he respected her. He never says explicitly how he feels, but Leigh knows. She sometimes feels like she knows everything about him. That alone allowed her to open herself up to him in that way. Tonight, everything else led to more and it was amazing for the both of them. She had only been with one other guy so it'd be a lie to say she was fully confident with him but he never made her feel insecure. She felt like it was more than just sex, like they really were connecting and she hoped he felt that way too.

Dallas couldn't get his thoughts in order. He couldn't believe how this girl was making him feel. He might've even had to describe it as love soon enough. He watched her asleep right next to him and felt a feeling he wasn't used to in the pit of his stomach. She tried staying up to talk to him after everything but she couldn't and that thought alone made him feel a little better, which was something almost foreign to him.

This ain't even possible. Somethin' can't be right, Dally thought. Why would anyone, let alone this girl, feel anything for me? She made him feel insecure.

"Do you ever sleep?" Leigh mumbled, tiredly glancing up at Dally. He just shrugged at her, suddenly unable to speak. "What are you thinkin' about?"

"Nothin'."

"Winston, it's four in the mornin' and you're not asleep. Somethin's gotta be on your mind." She wouldn't let up, and he knew that, but he simply shrugged again not wanting to ease up either. "Come on, you can tell me. I won't tell."

"It's nothin', alright? You can go back to sleep."

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, adjusted her bra, and sat up right next to him, defying his wishes. "I will stay up until you tell me what I wanna hear."

He was silent for a moment and that question still ran through his mind, making him feel like he never did before. He wanted to fill the silence without talking about himself. "What do you wanna do? Y'know, like when you get older?" It wasn't what she wanted to hear but she didn't mind talking to him anyway. He'd tell her, she assumed, after he was completely comfortable.

"Well," she thought. "I wanna work on cars like my dad. I know all about 'em," she says. "I want to be a dancer too. I don't tell people that, though, because no one thinks I can do it and it's annoyin' when people laugh about it." Dally didn't like that. As a dancer, she would have guys all over her. Watching her move. He didn't even know how she danced. If she danced with other guys. If the way she danced was inappropriate. He couldn't stand the thought of that.

He thought of another thing, about dancing and mechanics. "So, what, you gonna go to college or somethin'?"

She laughed tracing shapes with her long fingernails on his bare chest, "It's so sweet that you think I could even get into a college but no. I don't need to go to college. I can go to work with my dad whenever and I know how to dance. That's all you gotta know."

"And you gotta know how to count," he added, jokingly.

"Yeah, maybe I could teach you sometime." She chuckled and rolled her eyes, grabbing his hand now and tracing the lines and veins to keep her physically occupied. "What about you? What do you wanna do?"

"Nothin'," he says simply. "I can't do nothin'."

"Well, I think you're wrong. Everybody's got somethin'."

"Not me."

"Well, there's somethin' you love, yeah? What's that?"

"Nothin'." She disagreed again and he would tell her there was nothing. She wouldn't get anything out of Dally but kept trying until he abruptly changed the subject. "I noticed how you never said nothin' about your mom when you were talkin' about your family. What happened to her?"

Even though she wanted to continue with the previous conversation, Leigh could never pass up a chance for him to know her a little better. "Oh, she left a while ago," she says with a shrug. "I don't know why, it was maybe nine, ten years ago? I was young. It was no big deal to me; my parents fought all the time anyway and my mom would hit me and my brothers while my dads was away at work. We said good riddance. Me and all three of my brothers almost was supposed to go with her but luckily we didn't. We hated her." Dally nodded and wasn't prepared to be asked the same thing back. "What about your parents? You mentioned your ol' man once. Does he know that you're always gettin' into trouble?"

"Nope," he responded, "he don't care no way." Dally closed his eyes. He didn't care about his dad or anything but it always dawned on him that he didn't have any family when she talked about hers. He out of nowhere got that lonely feeling that creeps up on him every once in a while. It hit him so suddenly but it was nothing unfamiliar to him. He's amazing at hiding how empty he tends to feel, how deeply everything he's had to face truly affects him. It was something he'd never want even Leigh to know. "I used to want a little sister."

"I thought you hated kids."

"A kid sister is different," he clarifies, "I would've had someone to look after. I don't really got nobody."

She looked at him and heard the way he said it as if it actually hurt a little bit. Or maybe that was her trying to get a little emotion out of him. She interlocked their fingers and squeezed his hand a bit. "Well, that just ain't true. You've got your friends, they got your back. You've got me, now, too. I ain't goin' nowhere."

"You don't know that. You might realize that I ain't nothin' special."

"You say that as if I think you're special now." She giggled, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were gettin' a little insecure, Winston. Don't get all soft on me."

"Watch it," he says, returning the serious demeanor that she recognized so well.

"I'm only kiddin', alright?"

"Well, I ain't."

She rolled her eyes again and he looked at her. He always wondered why she didn't mind his threats or his perpetual lashing out. They were so in sync, like Leigh knew that was what he was wondering, and answered before he could ask. "You don't intimidate me. I know you won't do nothin' to me." Her arm wrapped around his torso and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I like you, Winston, because I think you've got this whole mean, bad rep and that's all it is. I like to know the softer Winston. The one that smiles on occasion." He smiled a little bit right there, but she couldn't see. He tried to hide it anyway. "I ain't tryin' to change you or nothin' and I know you'll still act like an ass outside, long as you don't act around me."

He silently agreed. He would never admit this aloud, but it was nice to have someone he wasn't forced to be tough around. It didn't mean he would be soft but it meant he would be. . . comfortable.

uh oh, winston's turning soft on us
edited 12-28-21