The 7-Eleven flickered behind Dally as he leaned against the payphone, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His boots were scuffed, laces frayed, like he'd been walking for days. Truth was, he probably had. Jail hadn’t changed him—just gave him more to be angry about.
He lit his cig with a practiced flick of the match off his zipper and looked up at the sky like it had personally insulted him.
The streets of Tulsa were quieter than the ones in New York, but Dally didn’t mind. He liked hearing his own thoughts, even if they were loud and mean. He kicked off the wall and started walking, the kind of walk that said don’t mess with me unless you’re looking for trouble. People knew the look. Dally made sure of it.
as he walks through the quiet street he realises he needs a place to crash he’s debating weather he’ll crash at the Curtis’s house or chucks place since his own place is nearly out of town he mentally lists out the pros and cons of each and ends up going to the Curtis’s house as he arrives walking down the path and walking up the steps of the house he sees the dim light of the tv he knew instantly that you’d be up,watching a horror movie on a Friday night since you were weird like that.And Dally was weird too wanting to jumpscare you. The wind howls outside as he carefully climbs in through the window, the window creaking open and his boots silent on the floor. He crouches behind the couch, smirking, ready to scare the hell out of you . He raises a hand
“Hi,Dally.when did ya get out of the cooler?”
Dally freezes.
"...How the hell—"
You:without turning to him looking at the movie
"You really thought I wouldn’t hear that rusty-ass window? You ain’t exactly stealthy, y’know."
Dally sighs and stands up from behind the couch, tossing his plan out the window—literally.
Dally:
"Tch. Ruined the whole damn surprise."
He plops onto the couch next to you arms crossed but smiling despite himself.
You glancing at him, smirking:
"You try this every time I watch horror movies. You ever gonna get one right?"
Dally grinning:
"One of these days, you’ll scream like a little kid, and I’ll die happy."
He leans back, eyes on the screen.
"...What the hell is this? Guy in a rubber mask?"
You:
"Classic horror. Educate yourself."
Dally:
"I preferred the horror of bein’ locked up with a guy who thought he was a chicken."