You and Dallas rarely fought. When you did it was short lived. One look from him and you would forget what you were arguing about. It was toxic, but he still used it. He was out which caused you to worry about him the whole night. When he did come he was drunk and way too late. You argued about how worried you were. He one hand on your face, one on your waist.

“Come on doll, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was.” He says while looking down at you, his brown eyes gazing into yours.