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ALTHOUGH SHIVERING IN THE ICY NIGHT, RORY  FELT  WARM  UNDER DALLAS'  LEATHER JACKET.  AND SHE COULDN'T HELP BUT  FEEL   DESIROUS  AS SHE WATCHED  HIM  BRACE  HIMSELF  INSTEAD OF  EMBRACING  HER.

             "You sure you're not cold?" Rory asks, her eyes fluttering back down to the sooty cement backroads, she would hate to track up mud or any other debris on her black shoes and lacy-finished socks. Much less be caught staring at that teeth-chattering Tulsa boy. 

              Her mind racing to the pulsating beat of her weak heart, her reputation in the palm of his bruising hand.

              "Don't worry, doll," Dallas chuckles under his breath, trying to contain the goosebumps crawling up his exposed forearms.

              Although light freckles dot his skin like stars in the night sky, the yellow street lamps illuminate the harsh cigarette burns and beer-bottle-caused scars. His face still icing over from the syrupy drink that redhead social splashed on him and her supposed friend.

             No matter how many times he's been either thrown out into the dark Oklahoma streets, he swears that New York City is a thousand times warmer. He misses his birthplace, but would never trade the home he has now.

              "What kinda gentleman would I be if I let a pretty girl like you freeze to death?" He asks, tucking his hands knuckle-deep into jean pockets. His mean eyes searched the back alley, wondering why it got a bit eerie. He's always hyper-aware, especially with a pretty, innocent girl by his side.

              "You're not," Rory states as she tugs his old, cigarette-scented leather jacket closer to her coconut smooth skin. Her white blouse is still a bit transparent but dryer than before. Her cream-colored brassiere's lacy detailing showed off in the shifty lighting, one notice from a stranger and they would think the worse.

              And for some reason . . . little Miss Anderson wouldn't care if they did.

              "You know my reputation and yet you're still coming back to my place?" The lanky boy looks down at the doe-eyed social, having absolutely no regard for how his dark umber eyes adorn her face, to her strawberry lips, to the growing shade of blush creeping up her goosebump-infested neck.

               His hair swoops in front of his eyes as he walks a bit closer to her tiny frame, checking over his right shoulder for any sign of someone following. He did some meddling things today, he wouldn't be surprised to see some repercussions.

                "I got nowhere else to stay," Rory mumbles past her pink lips, forming a thin line as her mind washes over with memory waves. Memories of her family deliberately excluding her out of the home, she wasn't wanted nor loved like she longed to be.

               "Now, I find that hard to believe," Dallas dismisses her sorrowful tone, his eyes almost rolling in annoyance but instead they focused on the pebble he's been kicking forward for about ten minutes.

               "It's true!" Rory quickly stops in her tracks but Dallas keeps sauntering. When he finally does notice how defensive she had gotten, he turns to face her, slowly chuckling at her stubbornness. It reminded him of himself during his infamous mood swings.

              "You don't have to believe me," Rory remarks, shrugging her shoulders and crossing her arms over her chest.

              The action unbeknownst to the ravenette allows for the sly-eyed greaser to glance at the semi-transparent fabric revealing everything from her olive skin to the lacey details.

             "I-I don't blame ya, no one really does," the girl stutters from a sudden rush of shivers down her spine.

             Maybe it was her subconscious feeling his heated and desired gaze. Maybe it was a flurry of butterflies anticipating the rest of the night. She despised it, nonetheless. How could a mere look stir so many feelings? Did he cast a greaser spell of some sort? His charm, perhaps?

              "You keep tellin' yourself that, doll," Dallas continues to walk, practically waving her along with him. He was cold, tired, and just wanted her to be in his arms already . . . in the comfort of his bedsheets.

             "So you don't want me to come back to yours?" She pesters, looking up to see that he was already looking at her.

             One thing was certain, Dallas wasn't prone to subtlety. And that's what she liked about him. He didn't care about the way he acted because that was his reputation.

             "I never said that, either," Dallas smirks against the waning moon's glow.

             The lanky shadow bled into the darkness, like a fallen angel basking in the starry night sky, his celestial skin looked absolutely irresistible. Like forbidden fruit toying with the youngest Anderson's innocence.

             "I just don't wanna intrude," Rory mumbles, feeling a bit shy and ashamed if she overstepped his boundary. This wasn't like her at all and she didn't like being out of her comfort zone. It was even more surprising that, above all odds and expectations, the kind and gentle social felt at ease with the mean and tough greaser.

            "'Preciate that," Dallas chortles, brushing his hand through his hair. A nervous habit he picked up from Ponyboy and Sodapop, they always play with their hair. . . especially around pretty girls.

            He didn't understand why he was so nervous, he's been with women at his place before. The bitter taste on his tongue was slightly freaking him out.

            "But I'm the one who offered, remember? I don't give out invitations lightly, especially to princesses like you." That wasn't a lie, he's been so truthful with her. It's scaring him. Although he may have the reputation of a womanizer, he was picky with who he had over. It was mostly Sylvia, but that's been over and done with.

            Sometimes he parties; sometimes he goes to drag races; sometimes he just sleeps.

           But most of the time, he just reads the books Ponyboy purposely left for him. He has a secret stash of his favorites he stole from the high school library when he occasionally goes to school in the fall to hang out with those left in public education. Those being Two-bit, Steve, Ponyboy, and, of course, Johnnycakes.

           "Oh, okay," Rory nods, slightly nibbling on her bottom lip. Her mouth itching for something to aid that oral fixation.

           She would much rather have a cigarette, and she would've asked Dallas for one but she didn't want him to have a complete heart attack from shock. It was very uncommon for a social to smoke, much less for a girl.

           "So, tell me 'bout yourself, doll?" His accent peaking as he tries to elongate his strides, he can see the devilish and enticing glow of Buck's hot pinkish-red neon signs through the cracks of the alleyway fences and trees.

          "Nice small talk," the Tulsa girl softly teases, her strides forming a skipping pace to keep up with the tall Brooklyn boy.

          "I would be kissin' you, but I'm fucking freezing."

          "Great priorities, Dal," the girl mutters with an airy laugh, her lips turning upward in a slight grin. It wasn't just her that wanted to kiss, she wasn't imagining the tension. Like a seedling planted in her brain, growing a fond bud of memory.

          "Come on, it's just up ahead," the greaser tilts his head back towards the clearance where the dirt sidewalk meets the smooth gravel of the main road. He debated on picking up the girl and carrying her bridal style after hearing his nickname out of her pretty mouth.

          "Well, if anything," Rory does a quick hop, skip, and jump as Dallas laughs at her attempts to keep up with him. Her tiny heels clanked against almost every available piece of the hard stone surface hidden under the dirt.

          "Uh, I guess you could call me an artist," she gushes in excitement before grabbing onto his arm as she quickly loses balance. "S-sorry," she mumbles, embarrassed at her own clumsiness, releasing her petite hand from his bare forearm and stepping back to his side.

          Dallas grins, his tongue toying with the inside of his cheek as a lude joke slips from it. "No shit? I've heard my brush stroke game is pretty good."

          "Oh really? You paint?" Rory doesn't register it, causing the brunet to grin even wider. He chuckles, shaking his head. Of course, the dirty joke goes right over her innocent head. As they near the edge of the street and turn the corner, out comes an older-looking grease with a grim and bitter smile. Noticing his aggressive demeanor, Dallas instantly steps in front of Rory, trying to shield her from the dark blue eyes.

          "Yo, Dally! You've been fucking dodging me all night?" His sharp and suddenly loud voice startles the girl, causing her to slightly jolt into Dallas' side. His fingers reach behind for her, grabbing on the familiar leather of his jacket and pulling her completely behind. 

          "Hey, Tim. Hey, man," Dally starts, carefully watching the curly-headed hood's hands closing into a fighting fist. The long scar from his left temple to the bottom of his chin created a devilish shadow, his face turning into something hideous in the pale moonlight.

"Listen, can we just drop it for tonight? Tell me your problems tomorrow, alright?" The boy in front of Rory asks, slowly trekking along the path. His timing is poorly executed because the oldest Sheppard notices the girl instantly.

          "Woah, man," Tim raises his hand, the black hair curls bouncing as he tilts his chin to look at Rory's attire. "Who's this little lady?" He walks closer to the pair, his blue eyes roaming along every inch of conceivable skin. "What's such a sweet thing doin' with this dirty hood?"

           "Look in the mirror, pal," Dallas spits out a defensive insult. His eyebrows contort in slight anger as he watches his longtime friend continue to flirt with a noticeably uncomfortable Rory Anderson.

           When the girl doesn't reciprocate the older boy's lude teases, Tim turns back to Dallas with vexation painted on his features. "What we're you fucking thinkin'? Slashing my tires? They cost me fifty bucks!"

           His voice boomed with every step towards the pair and Rory grew completely silent. He reminded her of the one thing she resented herself for fearing . . . his anger was very similar to her father's.

           On the other hand, instead of freezing up as the youngest social did in combative situations, the older greaser replied with bitter coldness, "not my problem, Shep."

           Tim whistles mockingly, eyeing how Dally's hand circles behind his back and how close the ravennette is to the boy's body. "Tell you what, I'll make you an offer. I'll forget about it if you let me have my way with her."

          Rory's chocolate pudding eyes widen in shock then quickly slit into an intense death stare. She would've let Dallas handle it but her corrupted mouth moved too quickly than her politely-raised mind, "you fucking wish, grease."

          "Ooh, mouthy, I like it. I can shut you up real good," Tim snarls, stepping closer to the pair. Dallas holds his ground but it's Rory who retreats into an alleyway wall. She hated how afraid she gets, and she didn't want Dally's pitiful gaze so she chose not to look at him.

          "What, you wanna hit me?" Dallas argues, quickly stepping in front of the older boy and pushing him back slightly. "Go ahead, just leave her out of it."

           "Does the Dallas Winston have a little soft spot for a soc?"

           "Just fuck off, Sheppard. C'mon Lore," Dal grumbles, not denying it as he swiftly grabs the pretty girl by the hand and pulls them both past the vengeful hood.

           Her real name slipping from his candy-apple tongue shot her heart, like a budding bullet sticky with pollen. The impact sprouting along the cracks and suffocating her veins; clouding her mind with too many questions it wipes into a lovesick blur.

          Blooming butterflies hatching from the crevices of her lungs, her blood quickly pulsating again. He gave her motivation to keep going, to do something, even if her feet felt like complete mush.

          "Nah uh," Tim didn't believe the action either as he reacted by grabbing one of Rory's passing shoulders. "Are you fucking kidding me? She's a dirty soc, Dal! She doesn't deserve this!" The hood yells, tearing off the dark-colored leather jacket protecting Rory's modesty.

           "Ouch! Leave me alone!" Rory yelps, shrugging off Sheppard's harsh and greasy hand from her skin. The harsh zipper of the outerwear scratches her delicate skin as it's roughly pulled off of her.

           Her hair disheveled in front of her eyes as she covers her transparent chest and torn skin in a one-armed hug. Scuffling and punching sounds can be heard as she quickly looks away from inspecting her injury: Dallas holding a bleeding Tim up by the collar, pressed against the stonewall.

           "You touch her again, you won't have to worry about tires cause you'll be dead. Got it?" Dallas threatens, clenching his fist around Tim's shirt until his knuckles grow white.

           "Jeez Dallas," Tim sniffles, feeling his nose start to swell from the single knuckle punch. "I-I was just kidding around. She's fine! Right?!" He turns to Rory, lifting his eyebrows as he begs to be let go.

          Dallas doesn't loosen up the reigns until it's Rory who saunters closer. He lowers his arm and releases the hoodlum, allowing for the not-so-innocent social to backhand him across the face.

         "Now I am. 'Cuse us."

          Dallas chuckles in astonishment, watching as Rory winces at her hand's pain before quickly picking up his signature jacket off the dirt ground.

          She holds the coat over her right shoulder, turns her head over her left, and nods for him to catch up. Both of them leaving the Sheppard Gang leader very, very confused as they soon start racing down the street towards Buck's . . . laughing  down Tulsa's main.

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fez speaking!!

the way i absolutely adore them
#DALLORE is miss sunshine
and mister grumpy trope ffs
huge brain rot... 2400ish words.. what tf

and the way they will throw
hands for each other already <33

so sorry for the delay in updates ://
i have so much work for college classes

love you all so mucho <3
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