Dallas Winston was known for being the most feared greaser out in the low-life streets of Tusla. Everyone knew the kid was trouble, having lived 3 years in the gang-filled bad part of New York, he was constantly in-and-out of the cooler and the police was used to seeing him at least once every two week —if not more often—. He was cold, he was though, he was ruthless and he never settled for anything. Except for you, it seemed.

You, a beautiful and popular girl. The kindest and sweetest soul in the whole school, someone who wouldn't hurt a fly, someone who legit cried when her boyfriend came home with bruises.* You were his girlfriend. And it was clear that the, 'opposites attract' theory was on full display when it came to grumpy Dallas and his sunshine girlfriend. Never one without the other, always attached to the hip.

Today, however, you were stuck in the highschool's lab for some stupid biology practice that you really didn't want to do. You always got emotional when you had to see Dallas' with the slightest hint of blood on his body, and certainly opening a sheep's heart wasn't your ideal thought of a biology class.

The class was all dressed in their lab coats, divided in groups, and you were standing very very close to Dallas as he and some other boy did the incisions on the meaty muscle. You were latched onto his arm. You felt sick to your stomach as you kept on watching Dallas dragging the knife across the muscular skin, the colour draining from your face when a bit of blood started to sweep out of the sheep heart.

Dallas noticed when your grip tightened on him and when you pretty much hid your face against his bicep, your sweaty forehead against the sleeve of his worn out lab coat. He passed the knife to one of his teammates, letting the other girl continue the work, as he looked down at you making a sorry sound. "you okay, babydoll?" he murmured hushedly, one eyebrows raised. He knew you were sensitive to this kind of bloody —disgusting— stuff.