𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛

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The air was unnaturally warm that morning, flowing in through the open window

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The air was unnaturally warm that morning, flowing in through the open window. It carried the slightly sweet scent of the magnolias that grew outside. New York didn't have magnolias or that clear, country scent. There were a few other things the city of lights lacked as well.

He rustled slightly next to her though she had been awake long before that. It may have been creepy but she liked watching him sleep. He didn't look so tough and dangerous, like the villain in the stories parents would tell their children. Maybe it was everyone, but he looked young and innocent. That rivet between his eyebrows was gone and he looked... comfortable. Virginia began to wonder what could've happened if maybe he had a decent roof to sleep under at his time in New York. What if he didn't end up behind bars at the age of ten? What if he found her, her brothers, and the rest of the boys sooner?

Her fingers dipped in and out of his unruly dark locks lazily as she watched the dark black sky lighten. Dallas Winston was the farthest thing from a cuddler and Virginia had respected that. Still, there was only so much room she could give him that didn't smush her into the wall. He didn't seem to mind when she curled in towards his warmth, and, if she had to admit, he almost sought her touch out.

"I think..." she spoke softly, knowing very well he had woken up too. "We have to talk to Darry."

"Curtis, it's early. Don't you gotta get to the school—"

"We can't keep beatin' round the bush over this," she interjected. "He has to find us like that at the dance. If that happened with Ponyboy, I'd... well, I'd—"

"Hit the damn roof."

"I just might," she sighed. An awful ache throbbed beneath her eye and she pressed on it gently, closing her eyes tightly to try and gather her scattered thoughts. She sniffed and sighed, lolling her head just enough to look at him. Her eyes caught sight of the raised burn scars on his arm and she felt something get pinched inside of her.

Luckily, the cut he got last night wasn't too severe (though it could've been some warning from P.T. Martin, rather than a fraction of his wrath) and the cloth she had wrapped it with hadn't soaked through. Dallas definitely couldn't return to his room at Buck's. That old man was crocked day and night to care who or why people like the Tiber Street Tigers would enter his roadhouse. Virginia would never see herself a foot away from that place ever again. And then there was—

"Johnny," Virginia blurted out in surprise. "Did they try to hurt Johnny?"

Dallas' face darkened and she carefully removed her fingers from his person. He swore under his breath. "No. He wasn't there. Said he'd try and crash at Two-Bit's for a while but he told me he was gonna show up here tonight to be with you and Darry's girl."

Suddenly, it was like she could breathe again. If anything were to happen to Johnny because of her, Virginia didn't think she could handle it. Having to abstain from the rumble was a blow to Johnny's rep as a greaser but it was for the best. He was in no shape to fight.

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