𝓜𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝔂 𝓓𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓼 𝓘𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼

Fulton Reed

***Part two of the first Fulton Reed imagine with Dillon.***

Sitting in Fulton's truck as they were leaving the party that had went wrong, Dillon was very quiet, still thinking about everything that had went on. Tears stained her face, she looked beautiful, but with how saddened she was, the night seemed to be less memorable than it was supposed to be. Fulton did worry about Dillon, she was from out of the country, he didn't know if things like that happened over in France, he didn't know if she had people over there that she was close to.

He did feel bad, he was wishing that he would have been there sooner to help her out. Fulton did not know how scary it could be to be put in that position. He never really thought of how people could feel until now, only because his girl was in that position. She had nothing to say to him, she was in her own world thinking, she was a little jittery and wished to be back at the dorms for the night.

Music was on low and the cars behind Fulton's truck belonged to other Ducks from the team who were also headed back to the dorms or to wherever else for the evening. Some Ducks, who lived in Minnesota, went back to their houses the odd time, whereas the other Ducks remained at the dorms.

Dillon stared out the window quietly, her fingers busy as she picked at her nails nervously, still thinking about what happened at the party. No one had ever done something like that. She didn't like it and it wasn't the first time someone had kissed her, held her to a wall, or gripped her butt. There was difference, at the party, it was forced, not will. Whereas, the other times she'd been kissed or one's touched her butt, it was because she allowed it. She was still trying to get the image out of her mind, the image of a drunk teenager trying to get with her.

"Hey, Dill-" She'd cut him off before he could finish.

"Non, parle pas. S'il vous plait." She spoke, not wanting him to speak at all. She turned in her seat, staring out the window, her body slightly shaking still and she held back the tears. She wanted to cry and scream, but she didn't find that appropriate. She found it embarrassing to do in front of Fulton, a tough guy.

The truck came to a stop and Fulton looked at her, he was mad at the situation and even if he got some anger out by beating up that boy, he still was mad. Mad that he hadn't watched her close enough, mad that he didn't question her disappearance, mad that she was hurt, that she felt ruined inside. He felt the blame was all on him, no one else, just him.

He cleared his throat and stared back at the road. "Dillon, you have to talk. You have to tell me how you feel." 

She shook her head, bringing a hand to her mouth as she bit her nail. She remained quiet again, still emotional about it. She was thankful Fulton came, but she was still scared that something similar could happen again.

He extended his arm, going to put his hand to her knee, but she slid over on the seat, frightened by him at first. She'd had a mental image of the drunk boy, thinking it was him going to touch her, but it was simply Fulton. He brought his hand back, placing it back on the wheel with a small sigh, wishing there was something he could do.

Getting back to the dorm building, Fulton parked the truck and waited, turning the engine off as they sat there. Dillon inhaled deeply before bringing her hand to the door handle, ready to leave. "Dill, on peut parler demain." He spoke to her. 

The french came in handy, when she was upset, mad, or even sad, she stuck to her language where she could express herself the best. Fulton knew french from her and he didn't know a lot, but he knew enough to understand her most of the time.

"Toute est bien, j'y rente pour la soirée. Bonne nuit." She inhaled, stepping out of the truck. 

"Let me walk you at least." He got out of the truck to meet her on the other side. She looked him in the eye before glancing at the group with a quivering lip. "Hey, it's gonna be all right." He pulled her in for a tight hug.

She cried, wrapping her arms loosely around him, his arms were tight around her small frame as she cried. The lot was dark with few lights lighting it up, the dorm building was covered in lights by the doors and they'd seen a few of their friends heading in for the night. She closed her eyes, feeling better even if the tears kept coming down her face. "I was scared, Fulton, he touched me. I didn't like it."

"I know you didn't." He told her, hating that she was reminding him of the guy who messed with his girl. "No more parties for a long while."

"Only Duck ones." She smiled.

"Duck ones, yeah." He spun her to his side and kept her close as he locked the truck and they headed back to the dorms. He adored her french accent, it melted him inside and she liked his american accent, it was different than her french one. "I love you, Dillon, I always will." He told her.

"Moi, aussi." She grabbed his hand tightly. "Talk more tomorrow?"

"Deal." He nods, opening the door for her and then walked in behind her. She was in a better mood, but she still thought of what happened at the party and hated it. As the night went on, Dillon had finally fallen asleep in her own dorm, where Connie and Julie were fast asleep and so were the rest of the Ducks.