His breathing is steady and deep after all the activity you've gone under, the cigarette after sex in between his fingers slowly burning out. Dally's other hand is tracing shapes and forms into your skin, as you both lie there in bed.

"We gotta talk." Dallas says, thick northern accent slipping past his lips.

His eyes drift down to you, resting on his chest, limbs all intertwined. His heart quivers --- this was supplsed to be casual.

"'Bout this." He adds, in a bit of a gruff whisper.