Midnight Racer-Tony Stark's Daughter

seven

"Where are we goin'?" Griffin whines.

"Up to New York, go back to sleep." Dallas flicks his forehead.

It smelled in New York. Period. She had no other thoughts. It reeked of smog, hotdogs and gasoline. The traffic hit hard as soon as they entered through Queens, it barely moved an inch a minute. Ridiculous. They had to wait hours before they could even be anywhere.

Dallas decided on parking the car in free parking and heading off to a local park she had seen on the new phone she bought earlier.

Currently she and Griffin were munching on some hotdogs that a local stand is offering along the sidewalk down a ways from where they sit on a bench in front of the lively dead grass where little children play with their parents and friends.

Out here it doesn't smell as bad which Dallas likes about it, a first positive in the many negatives she's taken note of already, and it hasn't even been a whole day! It is afternoon, there is a light tickling breeze on the back of her neck as she eats. Her legs are crossed up on the bench in a crisscross, Griffins are settled on the ground mannerly.

"Why'd we come all tha way up here anyways." He has so many perfected manners, chewing or for this love of it–talking with his mouth full of food is most definitely not one of those perfections.

"I wanted the see the place, it's cool isn't it?" She asks, her food not in her mouth as she does so.

He thinks on it, takes another bite and responds, "It's pretty noisy, hm, lots a people here too."

Don't comment on it. Don't comment on it.

"Maybe more people is what we need." She suggests, and waves her hand freely.

Griffin slumps slightly, takes another bite and speaks, again full of food, "Just makes more people we could care about, no? Plus there's probably not many places ta race here."

Keep yourself together, Dallas.

"I bet there's way more places around here to race, maybe a group we can hang with for a while too." Dallas says, then takes a bite of her food after she finishes speaking.

Griffins head turns now, "We plan on staying?"

"I mean, it's definitely something to think about. Isn't it?" She looks and sees a struggle in his eyes, like he wants to tell her what he thinks but doesn't want to offend her.

"Don't get me wrong now, Dal—" He starts.

"—But you don't want to care about anyone else, is it?" She finishes for him, quickly snapping off his sentence. The hotdog wrapper, empty in her hands now crumples into a ball.

Griffin gets this look in his eye when theirs connect in the moment. She's seen it before, she knows all about it actually. It's not the first time she's seen it frankly.

When she first met him Dallas quickly noticed that he didn't like arguing, no, Griffin would either shut up or take his opinion else where. He'd never get into it, he was simply a complicated person that way. It's not that he'd never argue because he does, but he also keeps most of what he's feeling inside and doesn't push it if he feels it's unnecessary.

So now when Dallas sees this look she always pushes just that much more because wants to know how or what he's feeling or thinking. She always wants him to know that with her his opinions are valid and he doesn't need to hold back. It wasn't a promise for her to not retaliate in argument but it was for him to be able to be open.