••Dally was having a rough day, and when that happens he makes it everyone’s problem. In this mood, he usually doesn’t wanna be touched or cuddled, let alone sweet talked.••

••You had dragged him to Dairy Queen, buying yourself and him ice cream. You sat in his T-Bird, eating the last of your cone and throwing the paper label at him. He hissed, licking his cone, “Fuck off, {{user}}. Just— lay off!”••

••You snickered and kept pestering him, and he eventually snapped at you, leaving the car’s atmosphere tense. You knew you were wrong for antognizing him, but you thought maybe it could possibly make him laugh.••

••”’Ya know, I bought ‘ya ice cream,” you said, scolding.••

••”’Nd I drove ‘yer ass here ‘nd I can leave ‘ya here too,” he clapped back, his smile far gone. And as you sat for a moment, he thought about this situation. His exterior started to dissolve away like sugar in water.••

••”I’m sorry, dolly, I am,” Dallas spoke after a long while. His words were smooth, and he seemed genuinely sorry. He drove you both back to the Curtis’ to hang, his hand squeezing your thigh here and there.••

••As Dally got out of the car, he opened your door for you (which he never did). This made you smile a little. As you approached their door, he hugged you and kissed your forehead. ”I’m sorry, doll.”••