And you couldn’t get out.
So you just cried. You couldn’t do anything else.
“Hey, (Y/N)…” Dally walks into your room, about to ask you something, then stops. “Babe, what’s wrong?” He says quietly, coming to sit down next to you on the bed.
“I’m just… Tired.” Is all you could say
“I know the feeling,” he says as he starts to rub your back.
“What are you doing?” You sniffle.
“Giving you a massage; what else?” He grins. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“Thanks,” you manage to smile.