preferences, the outsiders.

Dallas Winston

You and Dallas are in your twenties in this imagine.

You and Dallas have been in a relationship for two years now, and it's slowly falling apart. Since he's in a gang, you think that he has a lot on his shoulders. But whenever he isn't with The Gang, he never makes time for you, he makes time for him to go out and drink and party all night long. He comes home extra late smelling like alcohol with a little hint of perfume that is most definitely not yours. You've had enough of his crap, but you love him so much that you can't leave him.

It is three in the morning and you are currently sitting in the living room, on your couch, with your legs crossed and your chin leaning on your hand, waiting for Dallas to come home. He promised he'd come home earlier so that he could spend some time with you, but he must've... Again.

You look over in the dining room area, where you left Dallas a plate for dinner. Cooking is a very rare thing for you to do because you would just usually go out and find something to eat with a friend. You just wanted to do something special for him, as it is really your first time seeing his face in a long time. Well, with him hanging with The Gang and all.

You sigh loudly and look over at the clock on the wall. Almost four in the morning...

You slowly start to drift off to sleep, giving up on waiting for Dallas, until you hear the front door swing open.

You snap your head into the direction of the front door, to see a drunk Dallas stumbling into the house. You glare at him and hoist yourself up out of the seat, tightening the strings on your robe, around your body.

"Dallas Winston, you were supposed to be home hours ago!" You shout, sounding like a mom.

He only groaned and headed straight to the kitchen. You cross your arms and follow shortly after him, clearly pissed that he isn't speaking to you.

"Dally, I am talking to you." You say sternly.

He opens the fridge and grabs a can of beer out of it. You look at him like he's crazy.

"What are you doing? You're already drunk go to bed." You say.

He laughs. "You... you don't tell me what to do." He slurs, taking a sip from the can.

"Dallas," You say in a warning tone, stepping closer to him. When you get as close as you can, you smell the faded scent of perfume on him. He was with another girl... for the third time this week.

You snatch the can from him and slam it on the counter, not caring if some of the drink spilled out of the can.

He looks down at you and furrows his brows. "What the hell are y-"

"I've had enough!" You shout, causing him to flinch.

You didn't know what courage built up inside of you to speak up to him, but you were proud of yourself.

"I am tired of your shit, Dallas," You start. "I can't deal with you going out late and paying more attention to these whores than your own girlfriend. If you're not going to change, then I'm leaving." You say and harshly shove him in the chest before walking to your room.

This sobered him up real quick.

He follows after you. "Come on, doll. Don't be like that..." He says, knowing that when he sweet talks you, it prevents you from leaving... but nope. Not this time.

"No, leave me alone." You say as you start grabbing anything that can fit in your suitcase.

"No, you're not leaving." He says sternly.

You finish packing and stand up to walk closer to him.

"And who's gonna stop me?"

You watch as his jaw clenches and his hands ball up into a fist.

"Alright... Well, fuck you too, then! Fuck you!" He yells. His outburst startled you, but you managed to not look terrified. You kept that cold glare on him. "The fuck did I do?!" He asks, which makes you scoff.

"Fuck you, Dally!" You say right before grabbing your suitcase.

You walk out of the room and head to the front door. You didn't want to leave, but this is probably the only way to knock some sense into him, which will probably never happen.

You turn around and face him, he looked like he was going to cry, which was something super rare... Dally never showed much emotion. You didn't want to give in so easy, so you ignored that.

"You just give me a call when my old Dally is back." Were the last words you said to him.