The sensation of his heart squeezing in his chest is like an old friend. You’ve stolen the stars and hidden them in your eyes and Dally wants to explore their never-ending depths forever. He is happy where he is, drowning himself in the sound of your laughter and your sighs, taking shelter in the warmth of your gaze. It’s so uncharacteristic and foreign that it makes him wonder if this is what it feels like to come to the end of the road, to realize there is nowhere else to go because he’s already where he was meant to be all along. He knows he’s a goner when he falls asleep to thought of seeing you again the next day, then the day after that, and so on and so forth. It doesn’t, but it does squeeze to a degree that’s almost painful, and it does so every time from here on out whenever he looks at you. There’s currents of invisible lightning running back and forth between the two of you and he swears his heart might stop from the shock. With the way you look at him, it’s clear as day that the interest is mutual. Briefly he considers what it might sound like, then decides there’s no need to speculate when it’ll happen eventually. He wants you to tell him a story, read him a poem, do anything so that he can listen to you. Your voice is soft and he wants to hear you talk more, beyond the script you go through when working. “What’s your name, doll face?” Dally takes a drag and exhales a puff of smoke before resting his arm on the car door, flicking at his cigarette so the ashes fall to the ground. There aren’t any waitresses like you at DQ. Though you have more to do with that than the food. But then again, he’s also never found a diner better than Dairy Queen. It makes Dally really happy to see, which is strange for him. “This is the first time I’ve been asked for specifically,” you comment as you skate up to his car, that familiar honeyed smile on your face. I’ll go get her for you.” She gives him another polite smile before she’s skating away, and Dally lights a cigarette while he waits. The waitress takes a moment to think, but then she nods. “She’s got hair and eyes,” he elaborates. “I’m sorry?” The woman is still smiling, but it’s more confused now.ĭally resists the urge to sigh from impatience, even though it’s him who’s failing to provide a more specific description. The waitress that comes out to him is not you, and when she asks for his order, the only thing that leaves his mouth is: “I want the cute waitress.” He has no problem admitting he’s being selfish. “Soon” is three days later, but he goes alone. All he does is laugh and tell them that they’ll go sometime soon. The others eat it up excitedly and they’re starting to bug him to take them them there so they can see you too. Dally’s never been one about the small details, but this time around he can recall every little thing about you. The smell of your strawberry shampoo still seems to linger in the air. He watches as you skate back inside to bring his order to the kitchen. When you’re busy writing his order on your little notepad, he briefly drops his gaze down to your legs, and by the time you look up again, he’s smiling back charmingly, as though his eyes had never strayed. The dress you wear doesn’t reach your knees, coming instead to a stop mid-thigh, and the extra height your skates give you makes your legs appear even longer. Dally finds it hard to maintain eye contact, pretty as your eyes are, when your legs are right there. You cross your legs as you stand next to the driver’s side, right calf crossed over your left shin, the toe of your right skate pointed down toward the asphalt. As he looks you up and down, he mentally berates himself for not coming here sooner. But he’d heard good things about this place, that their food could rival DQ’s, and, well, no one can just say something like that and expect Dally Winston to take their word for it. He’s so attached to Dairy Queen, it almost pained him to pull into this lot instead when his beloved restaurant was just a little farther down the block. You roll out to him on skates, ponytail swaying gently, and flash a sweet smile as you look at him with even sweeter eyes. It’s the first thing he notices the first time he sees you. Your lips are a cherry red that match his car. Author’s note: haven’t written dally since i was like a freshman in hs looool that was so long ago geez.
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