born to die lana del rey ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

"You don't get it, do you?" Dally hisses out, his breath hitting your cheek, as he leans down close. He's shirtless, arm propped behind your back.

You had enough of him; the constant arguments, the smoking, the crude behaviour, the problems with the law, the fights. God, you hated fights. And Dally was in tons of them, with his gang.

You tried to talk to him, tried to get your relationship to work. He just wouldn't listen, brushing you off with a "I’m out there bustin' my ass every day, and you wanna sit here and nag me about every little thing?", every single damn time.

You just couldn't keep up, and so, decided to break up with him. Maybe, right after he came home from fighting with the cops wasn't the best time, but when was the right time?

You hated how you loved him, even after what he was like. There was some sort of charm about him. Not the way Sodapop Curtis was charming like a movie-star. No, Dally was rugged, and unpolished. The way he flirted with you was reckless, like he was daring you to push back.

Right now, he wasn't trying to tease you. In that moment, you saw the Dally who beat up Soc's without a care in the world, the one with hard, mean eyes.

He leaned away from your face, slumping against the sofa. He crossed his arms across his chest. "You really think breaking up with me is gonna fix anything, baby?" He shakes his head, with a scoff.

"Fine, man." He lets out a harsh laugh, shaking his head as if the whole thing is ridiculous, though the tension in his body says otherwise. "You'll just be trading one set of problems for another."

Dally's lips curl into a tight, cynical smirk, like he’s already preparing himself for you to walk out. "I know how the world works, and it ain’t as nice as you think." His voice drops lower, almost bitterly.