Chapter Fourty-Six

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Dallas shifts uncomfortably in the booth across from me, his longs legs bumping against mine. I watch as he digs through each of his pockets, searching for a cigarette. Knowing he is never without one, I sigh as he presses the cancer-stick between his lips and lights it.

"One of these days," I start off, "you're going to smoke a hole straight through your lungs."

He waves his hands, brushing my comment off. I turn to look out the window, my eyes fall upon the run-down houses and trash twirling about itself in the wind. Clouds loom overhead in the sky, promising a chilling rain. Ice covers the sidewalks and spills over onto the road in small islands.

"This place ain't so bad," Dallas says, regaining my attention. He looks around the diner, "just wish I knew where the damn waitress went."

"Patience, Dal," I reply, looking over his features. His hair has grown, a few pieces brush his eyebrows, it curls around his ears and has begun trying to reach down his neck.  His eyes still hold tight to the sleep he's lost in the midst of all of the chaos. Dallas's face is home to a plethora of patchy stubble and faded scars, "when are you going to get a hair cut?" I ask.

"Whenever I feel like it," he shrugs.

"Why not today?"

"We got more important things to do."

"Like what?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Like I said earlier, you'll see."

"Okay," I rest my chin on my palm and say thank you as the waitress sets a cup of coffee in front of me and a large plate of every breakfast food I can think of in front of Dal.

"You sure you ain't hungry?" Dally asks after the waitress leaves. I nod. "Eat anyways," he pushes his plate towards me. "You can have whatever you want, except the pancakes. Those are mine."

--

I pull Dallas's hand off of his lap and into mine, letting my fingers find their resting place between his knuckles. He leaves his hand relaxed, refusing to fold his fingers down. Watching his other hand on the steering wheel, I breathe out slowly, shifting my gaze to look upon his face and serious eyes.

"Dally," I say out loud, listening to the beat of a steady rain against the roof of the truck, "why do you refuse to let people know you love me? Why do you refuse to let me know?" I press his fingers down in between mine. He stays silent and keeps his eyes on the road, acting like he didn't hear me. I feel my mouth drop into a frown as I turn on the radio, trying to fill the quiet that rings out in the car and in my head. A song I recognize to be Love Me sang by Elvis hums through the speakers. "Well, isn't this ironic." Dallas continues to ignore me as I turn up the music as Elvis begins to sing.

"Treat me like a fool, treat me mean and cruel, but love me. Wring my faithful heart, tear it all apart, but love me. If you ever go, darling, I'll be oh so lonely. I'll be sad and blue, crying over you, dear only."

Dallas becomes agitated and takes his other hand off the wheel for a second to slam off the radio. I squeeze his hand a little tighter and start speaking the words of the song where it left off, "I would beg and steal just to feel your heart beatin' close to mine. Well, if you ever go, darling, I'll be oh so lonely. I'll be sad and blue, crying over you, dear only-"

"- what'd you do, remember the whole damn song, man?" He cuts me off.

I shake my head with another sigh, "what goes on in that brain of yours?"

"You don't wanna know."

"I do, I think you just don't want me to." I rest my other hand on top of ours, my feelings for him become so overwhelming that it feels as if they've begun to suffocate me. "I love you so much," I say, my voice cracking, tears forming in my eyes. He's silent once again as the scenery around us changes into smaller houses that are so close to one another they seem to be touching. The walls of the houses look as if they're crumbling and spots on the roofs are replaced with sheets of cheap, rusting metal. The lawns are short slopes of dirt, spotted with yellow, dead grass. Doors and windows are missing from the houses and replaced with blankets in attempt to keep the cold out. Children play in the mud, being drenched in freezing rain. My heart aches for them and I pray that they have a safe, warm place to take refuge in. They watch the truck as we pass them. I look back at Dallas, my eyes no longer filled with the tears that drown my heart.

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