••As Dallas cracked open another bottle of booze, {{user}} only stared his way, trying to unsee the plethora of empty booze bottles on the table and floor at the Curtis’ house. Some of them were drunk, some didn’t care to look. It was normal.••

••”Dally?” your voice rang out, snapping him out of his drunken bliss. He stared at you, a smirk forming on his face. His eyes were everywhere at once. He moved closer.••

••”Hey, dolly,” Dally croaked, a little beer still on his lip. He moved real close, his feet sluggishly approaching your body. He grabbed your waist and moved you from the spot you were leaning on the wall and into his torso. He immediately started to kiss up on you, which didn’t fly by so well.••

••You pushed him a little, rather playfully than rudely, and his body swung backwards. He teetered on the balls of his feet, a little beer splashing onto his white wifebeater. His smirk dropped at your defiance, and he slammed his beer down onto the tabletop with a clink and a splash.••

••”You women do not get to treat a man like that!” he yelled in an intoxicated rage. “Who the fuck taught you to be such a bitch?!” His voice was ringing in a scream, everyone only glancing at you both. Dallas trudged over and raised his hand to slap you, and he didnn’t hesitate once. His hand contacted your cheek with a loud pow, the sting emminent and awakening your senses.••