#thread; dalton

[normallyxstranger]

He must've fallen asleep, because something had startled him awake. A noise? Dalton rubbed his face, swept a hand through his hair, and tried to shake off the heart-lurch feeling of being pulled from sleep.

"What? I'm tired," he said, sounding every bit like it.

Last night's midnight wolf run had taken a lot out of him.

[normallyxstrange]

@lunarruled​ | verse; untitled | title; pizza & company (Dalton & Kyleigh) | a starter

     Some day, he said. Some day, he might call. And so he did. Some day was today.

     A few weeks after meeting her, during a particularly lonely evening, when he couldn’t stand the idea of only himself for company. He thought of Kyleigh, flipping the card she’d given him back and forth against his thumb until he made up his mind and sent the text. A long shot, Dalton thought. She might not even remember him. Or answer even if she did.

     And yet, she had. Now, they were going to have pizza and company. He honestly didn’t know which one he was in need of more.

     He hated being needy in that way, in the way he craved the sound of another person, someone who might answer back. And even if they did, it was the… presence. Wolves were social animals, after all. Or, at least, they were meant to be.

     Dalton had some money—enough for a shitty little motel room for a few nights and for a few pizzas and beer. The convenience store was within walking distance, the pizza could be delivered so he found no reason to invite her over. After all, he said he’d buy the pizza. He should host this… whatever it was.

     The motel wouldn’t be hard to find, nor his room—number six, ground level, with the yellow flickering light outside it. Moths gathered, buzzing near the door, but he left it propped open for her. The television was on, but he had no clue what channel or what program. Something new he’d never seen before, and was supposed to be funny judging from the laugh track. It was really just noise, an artificial company that couldn’t replace the real thing.

     No matter how he pretended.

[normallyxstranger]

He made it to the motel just before sunset, duffel bag slung over a shoulder, guitar case in one hand, room keycard in the other. Dalton had no plans but to take a hot shower, eat the pizza he wanted to order, and sleep. Oh goddess, sleep in an actual bed. That's what he looked most forward to.

Well, that and the pizza.

How long had it been since he'd let himself have these comforts? A while, actually. As much as he loved being in the woods, roughing it, he found himself missing things like showers, beds, and pizza. So, he walked to the nearest motel, paid for one night, and made his way to his ground-floor room.

But then Dalton caught the scent of another werewolf as he passed one of the closed doors. Immediately, he was on edge. Cautious. Concerned. Was he in another pack's territory? He'd been so careful avoiding those packs he knew of--

He sniffed again, realizing there was something familiar in the scent. Dalton came to a halt and turned, breathing in deeply. Yes, he knew that scent, who it belonged to.

Just as he made the connection, the door opened and there she was.

"Kyleigh?" He formed it as a question, his self-doubt ever persistent in the back of his mind, even as a smile pulled at his face.

@lunarruled

[normallyxstranger]

@gentle-hearted

He noticed the smell of lavender and chamomile as he passed the girl, the smell of warm summers back home. The herb garden out back.

It was such a sudden, vivid memory that Dalton stopped and turned to look back at her. And that's when he saw something fall out of the bag she carried.

Talk about timing.

"Hey. Wait--you dropped your book." He picked it up, wiping dirt off the cover with his sleeve.

[normallyxstranger]

“ what do you want to know? ” //for Dalton

 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐗-𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐎𝐋.𝟑 // @gentle-hearted

———

It wouldn't have been fair to just say everything. That was too broad. He'd have to whittle it down to something simpler.

"Okay." Dalton licked his lips as he thought. His eyes went to the shelf, trailing over the array of colors. "How do you know what to paint?" His dark eyes flicked back to Jane, before seeking out another focal point. The packets of paintbrushes hanging from the pegboard became very interesting. He reached out to take one of the packets, locked in on it.

"I mean, when you get inspired, how do you decide if you're gonna draw or paint or... sculpt?" Did Jane sculpt? Dalton had no clue. He didn't know much about art in general. Asking Jane had seemed a smart idea. Anytime he asked Glen something serious about art, he always got teased or the answer wasn't an answer at all. Frustrating as hell. Jane seemed more likely to take him seriously if he asked.

"Or is it also an inspiration thing?" Goddess, he was explaining this badly. "You see something and think 'That's cool; I want to paint it.' Or 'I bet I could draw that'?"

[normallyxstranger]

"who knew sleeping for two hours on a monday would mean you're still tired on friday." Kaylee & Dalton

EEPY TIRED sentences // @southern-belle-outcasts

———

"Isn't there a thing called sleep debt?" Dalton had heard that somewhere. He didn't really know much about it, so it was really just a shot in the dark.

But he knew exactly what she meant; he'd had that ever-present tiredness more times than he cared to count. Goddess, but the second his head hit the pillow on a warm, clean bed, he slept better than he ever did outdoors. If he ever was in sleep debt, that was when Dalton certainly made up for it.

He closed his notebook and shrugged at Kaylee. "It's almost like we need sleep to function. Wild." A half-smile pulled at his mouth. "Maybe you can take a nap?"

[normallyxstranger]

"I'd believe you, you know. If you told me." Kaylee & Dalton

@southern-belle-outcasts

"See, that's the thing," he started, exasperation already in his voice, though he didn't mean it to be. "I tell people. I sincerely tell people and just--"

Dalton swept scraggly hair out of his face and blew out a breath. "What's the point? No one believes I didn't do it on purpose. No one believes I'm sorry."

[normallyxstrange]

     “How was I supposed to know that?” he asked. Really, though… It was like people expected him to be a mind-reader, to just know these things. “I’m sorry, but… I didn’t know.” At least his indignant tone had faded to something faintly apologetic.