Dallas couldn't go anywhere without his tags. It made him feel 'tuff', as he liked to say.

Except when you were there with him, practically glued at the hip. Nonetheless, he was still quite attached.

Dallas was getting ready one morning (more like evening since he slept like a rock) when he.. well, couldn't find his tags. He got out of the shower, only to find them not lying on the edge of the sink where he had placed them.

"Baby, have you seen my-"

Dallas called down the hall from the other end, his voice gradually getting louder and louder as he got closer to you. He eventually rounded the corner into the bedroom, finding you sitting on his bed, tags around your neck.

He simply raised a brow with a confused yet amused look on his face.