Dally cries

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THIS WAS MADE YEARS AGO, SO POORLY WRITTEN. 

It was the edge of about 2 am, you're waiting for your boyfriend Dally to get back home from work. Your eyebrows furrowed at the thought of the dark haired beauty that you loved walking through the door hammered for the third night this week. Not even those alluring dark marble eyes could save him this time.

Your thoughts are cut off by the sound of the front door opening and shutting. You stick your head over the couch to see him with one hand on the wall for support, taking off his shoes. You jumped up quickly walking over to him.

"And where were you?" you said with your arms crossed.

He doesn't respond and walks straight past you. You place your hand on his shoulder as he passes, he shoves it off and continues to the couch. You frowned as you followed behind him.

"Dally, is everything okay?" You asked as his back fell onto the couch, he lets out a stressed groan. His tilted his head backwards and closed his eyes. You sat besides him.

"Dall-" You stopped in the middle of your words when his eyes snapped open. He roughly grabs ahold of your wrist.

"Oh god. Will you shut up for two seconds?" He yells, his grip tightened for a moment before he lets go, pushing your wrist away.

You stared back at him in shock. He had never lashed out at you like this before. You knew something was seriously wrong. He scoots his body to the edge of the couch and throws his head in his hands. He rips his fingers through his hair roughly.

"You're a jerk, you know that?" You spat, getting up and walking behind the couch. He lets out a snarky little chuckle.

"Oh I'm sorry am I hurting your precious feelings princess?" He asked sarcastically. You had enough of this and tried to walk away.

You enter the kitchen, and grumble under your breath, "What's your problem."

He whips his head in your direction and jumps to his feet. He towered over you, his chest slightly brushing on yours. You've never seen him like this and you didn't like it one bit.

"You want to know what my damn problem? You really want to know?" He shouts.

You back up against the kitchen counter, "Yes I do want to know what the hell is wrong with you! Because you're acting like an grade A jerk and I don't like it!" You yell right back.

"My problem is my dad doesn't give a hang whether I'm dead or alive but today he just happened to stroll into town looking for me. You what he wanted? Money! Not to see his own kid. I told him I don't have no money to spare, and you know what he said. He said of course you don't! You're a low life and always have been!"

His breathing started to hitch and the darkness in his eyes turned softer. He gulped down as the tears started to well up in the corner of his eyes. He turns his head away from you and wiped his eyes clear again.

He hardened his face not wanting to show he was struggling to hold back tears. You pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around him. He does the same and buried his head in your neck for a moment before pulling back from you. He didn't want to cry in front of you.

He starts to walk towards the front door and puts his shoes back on, "I need some fresh air, kid. Don't wait up for me."

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