Disaster in a Dress.
"Sara, I feel stupid," Darcy sighed, pulling on her left shoe. "I don't even look like me."
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"
Darcy looked up, her eyes widening and all the oxygen leaving her body. Jon Good was standing in her doorway, leaning casually against the frame with the usual cocky smirk on his face.
"What are you doing here?" Darcy asked, finally inhaling again.
"Sara let me in," he answered. She eyed him carefully as he took another step into the room. He dropped down onto the bed beside her, his hand brushing hers lightly. "We're going to a bar. Didn't need to get so dressed up just for me."
"This isn't for you." She snatched her hand away, standing up abruptly and walking to the mirror. She could see him staring at her through the reflection.
"Then who's it for?" He asked, stretching his arms out behind him.
"I can't just dress up for myself?"
Jon looked her up and down, taking in everything about her. The skin tight red dress she was wearing, the killer black heels. She looked noticeably different without her many piercings and with a face covered in makeup. Clean cut and normal. Well, she would have if her tattoo hadn't been peeking out below the hem of the dress.
"Course you can," he shrugged, the smirk never leaving his lips. "I didn't think you wore dresses."
"I try not to make a habit of it," she told him. She couldn't stop the smile growing on her face; his smirk was also turning into a fully-fledged smile. She gave in, "It's none of your business who I'm dressing up for."
Jon chuckled and dropped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was silent for a few moments and Darcy took the opportunity to look him over. It didn't at all surprise her that he had found her. It wouldn't take much asking around to find out where she'd gone.
"Move back in with me," he said, catching her off guard. He hadn't moved to look at her. She, once more, felt all the air rush from her body.
"What?" she asked him breathlessly, resting a hand on the dresser behind her. She thought that maybe he was going to tell her what she wanted to hear. That he was going to tell her that he missed her as much as she missed him.
"It's too quiet," he told her, looking at her briefly. "It's weird not having you around."
Darcy gritted her teeth and set her jaw, turning back to the mirror. He sat up on the edge of the bed and watched as she played with her hair. It was shorter than the last time he'd seen her, probably shorter than his hair, in fact, but she still seemed to be having trouble with it.
"What do you say?"
"I'm good," she snapped bitterly. "Can you go now?"
"No," he shook his head. "I want to know why you're so dressed up."
"I'm going on a date," she growled at him. "Don't be a pain in my ass."
He jumped to his feet, walking up behind her. "Why are you going on a date and not coming out for my birthday? I'm cut."
Despite her five inch heels, she was still dwarfed by him. She wanted nothing more than for him to wrap his arms around her. She wanted to feel safe.
"I was pretty fucking sure you wouldn't want me there." Her answer was quick and harsh. He was so close to her, one small step and he'd be flush against her. She was trying not to be affected by him. She was failing. Her heart was racing; her cheeks were burning and she knew that if she tried to step away her legs would crumble beneath her.
"Why would that be?" he asked her, his long arm reaching beside her to rest on the dresser. It was so close to hers.
"You-" she was barely able to start her sentence. Jon had moved his hand so it was covering hers and she could feel him moving closer to her.
He lowered his head so he was whispering in her ear, "You're the only person I wanted to see today."
There was a knock on the door and Darcy jumped violently but Jon remained stoic, his hand over hers, his front pressed right against her back.
"I have to go," she said hastily, pulling her hand back. "Taylor's probably here."
"Rotunda?" Jon asked in a booming voice, disbelief overcoming his facial expression. "You're going on a date with that prepubescent little shit stain?"
Darcy's face fell even further but she quickly recovered, swallowing the lump in her throat. Maybe it would have been easier if someone had already told him? Why hadn't anyone told him?
"What do you care?" she barked at him. She put a hand on the door handle, but made no effort to leave the room.
"He's a kid."
"We're the same age," she growled at him through gritted teeth. She watched, somewhat mesmerised, as his face began to twitch.
"You're much hotter than he is." Jon laughed at her. "After this clusterfuck of a date, you're more than welcome to drop by the bar. I'll show you what it's like to be around a man."
"Eat a dick."
Darcy pushed down on the door handle and left the room, leaving Jon standing there shaking his head and pulling confused faces at the door she'd just walked through.
Darcy inwardly groaned when Taylor held her hand as they walked back to his car. He hadn't learnt much during their date – she had been avoiding physical contact all night because of how uncomfortable it made her.
"Did you want to go somewhere and get dessert? I know it's cold but I know a gelati place," he suggested, looking down at her with kind eyes. She kept her eyes forward.
"I was actually going to ask if we could go to the bar," she told him, hoping that her coat shielded the blush creeping up her neck. "It's Jon's birthday and I promised him I'd make an appearance." It was a lie but he didn't need to know that. About halfway through dinner Darcy realised that she would much rather be downing beers than listening to her date talk about how his college football career never had the opportunity to take off.
"Yeah," Taylor nodded, showing that he like the idea. "We can do that."
He held her door open for her, holding her hand and helping her into the car. When he shut the door, she was not only thankful for the warmth but also that he had let go. When he dropped into the driver's seat he started the car and put it into drive and pulled out but as he did so, he reached his hand over to take hold of Darcy's. She kept her hands firmly in her lap so Taylor settled for resting his hand on her knee.
The bar could not have appeared quick enough. Taylor was still reeling off factoids about football and Darcy had to remind him that she had been an NFL cheerleader and was no stranger to the sport.
No time was wasted in hightailing it out of the car, Taylor had barely been able to kill the engine before Darcy was out the door and rushing towards the bar's doors. Well, rushing as quickly as she could in the heels she had worn. She took a second to compose herself before pushing the doors open and walking inside, there was nothing worse than seeming to eager to see Jon.
Colby spotted her, his attention being drawn by the opening door. The look on her face told him all that he needed to know, he pointed out the door to the balcony and Darcy nodded at him, showing she understood.
"2 Heinekens."
She fished some money out of her handbag, hating that she was even carrying one, and paid the bartender. It was easier to just take money out of her pockets. She hated everything about what she was wearing.
Darcy picked up the bottles by the neck with one hand, using the other to wave at her friends. Just as she pushed open the door to outside, Taylor came in the front door.
Jon was sitting with his back to the bar, staring out over the edge of the balcony. Darcy shifted the beers so there was one in each hand and walked gently over to him, being careful not to catch the heels of her shoes in the planks' gaps.
"Happy birthday, cunt," she said into his ear as she leant over him, placing the bottle in his empty hand.
"I knew you'd show up," he said knowingly, bringing the beer up to his lips – his eyes still staring forward. "How was it?"
Darcy rolled her eyes before she sat down on the bench beside him. "It was fine," she told him with a forced smile. He laughed at her, knowing she was lying. "How drunk are you right now?"
"Not drunk enough."
He tipped his beer up, drinking the rest of it without a breath. Darcy looked down at her own drink and then up at Jon but she decided against handing it over. She put the bottle to her lips and took a quick sip before holding it in front of her by her fingertips.
She crossed her right leg over her left and unconsciously leaned into him. She reached her free hand up – the one not holding her beer – and took the cigarette from his mouth. He didn't protest, just looked down at her and watched as she took a drag of his cigarette. As she exhaled she put the cigarette back between his lips. She cringed at the red stain that was left on the end of it – she was sure she'd lost all her lipstick at dinner.
"It was the most boring night of my life."
"I knew it," he responded casually. "Fucking Bo Dallas."
"I never want to talk about college football again. I loved college football."
"I don't know why he took you somewhere you had to dress up for. He should have taken you to a college football game. Or just sat at this dive."
"I wouldn't have had fun. He would have spoken about his fucking almost scholarship regardless of what I was wearing."
She put her beer up to her lips and did not hesitate to tip it up. The liquid warmed her insides but did nothing to thaw her toes. Jon took a drag of the cigarette before holding it up to Darcy's mouth. Her lips closed around it, inhaling and feeling, again, her insides warm.
"I still hate you," she informed him, though she leaned in closer when a breeze blew past.
He, without a word, wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. She pushed her arm under his leather jacket and tried to steal as much of his body heat as possible. Her coat – Sara's coat - was barely a coat despite being thick and almost pure wool. It only had short sleeves and was cropped – even in Florida it wasn't enough.
"You look better with the metal."
"I feel better with the metal. I feel naked right now."
"Don't let him change you."
"That prepubescent little shit stain would be the last person to change me," she stated firmly. "How do I keep him away?"
"Tell him you had a shit time."
"I don't want to have to talk to him." She groaned at the idea, picturing him trying to win her over with his football talk.
"You need to get totally wasted and make out with someone else. Bring Drunk Darcy out to play."
"Okay," she nodded with her head still near his chest. In a minute." She snuggled closer to him when a breeze blew past.
Drunk Darcy was long gone. Drunk Darcy had been put away and Wasted Darcy had taken her place.
Darcy slumped down into a seat beside Matt and let her head loll backwards. He looked at her, poked her side and turned back away when she jolted.
"Just making sure you're alive," he told her when she scrunched up her face at him. "How much have you had?"
"Um," Darcy lifted her hands, "Like this many?" She was holding up ten fingers but Matt wasn't sure if that was because it was accurate or because she had lost control of her motor skills. "I'm really tired."
"Try to stay awake for a little longer and I'll take you back to mine, okay? No need to wake Sara up."
Darcy nodded lazily before she let her head fall back. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered that she wanted to talk to Matt again about Saraya but whenever she opened her mouth she forgot exactly what it was and opted to just keep quiet.
She was just about to fall asleep when Matt put his hand on her shoulder, waking her up and telling her that they were heading off. She stood up and immediately clutched onto his arm. She felt lightheaded and her legs were wobbling more than usual – alcohol and heels were the cause.
"Hey! It's the birthday boy!" Darcy said loudly, letting go of Matt and quickly falling forward, landing with her chest against Jon's back and her arms over his shoulders. "Did I do good?"
"With what?" he asked, holding her wrists to keep her from slipping backwards. Colby and Joe were looking at him, laughing at Wasted Darcy.
"Gettin' rid o' Bo!" She said into his ear. He pulled a face because she was being very loud.
"I don't know who it was," he said slowly, "but, yes, you did good."
"'N we go now?" she asked him, closing her eyes and resting her head against the back of his neck. "I'm really tired."
"Darc, I'm taking you with me, remember?" Matt said, trying to extract her from Jon.
She groaned at him and tightened her arms.
"It's fine, man, I'll take her," Jon said, moving his arm behind him so that he could pull Darcy to his side.
Matt nodded, asked if he positive and left when the responsive was positive.
It wasn't long before Jon was standing up with his arm around Darcy's back and resting on her hip to keep her upright and directing her out the door to a waiting taxi.
The entire ride home, Darcy was dead to the world in the backseat. She had passed out almost as soon as she sat down and she didn't wake up until Jon was helping her out of the car.
"I don' live here anymore," Darcy said as she opened her eyes and looked up to see Jon's house. "I live with Sara."
Jon sighed tiredly, "You wanted to come back with me, Darcy."
"Oh," she breathed before nodding quickly. "Yeah, okay, 's good."
Still holding Darcy up, Jon fumbled to get his key into the door as every so often she would become completely dead weight and slump beside him. When he finally managed to open the door, he was half tempted to just carry her to the bed but he thought better of it when he realised that she might hit him if he did so.
"I look dumb," Darcy mumbled as she caught sight of herself in the mirror on his wall. "And I got beer on Sara's coat."
"Just take it to a dry cleaner," Jon told her, sitting her down on the bed. "No kicking, okay?"
Darcy nodded at him and fell backwards so that she was staring up at the ceiling. She felt Jon's hands on her ankles as he undid the small buckles on her high heels.
"Why aren' you ever drunk?"
"Because I'm not fucking tiny, that's why."
He stood up and looked down at her, a soft smile gracing his face. He took her hand and pulled her back to a sitting position before he stared at the coat in confusion. She lifted her hands lazily and pulled back the material to reveal the hidden buttons before dropping them back to her sides and letting Jon undo them.
"This is nice dress," Darcy said slowly, running her hands over the front of it.
"I thought you looked dumb," Jon commented, pushing the coat back off her shoulders. She moved her arms out of her and shrugged at him like a child complete with raised hands.
She lifted her arms above her head and waited for Jon to pull her dress up her body and over her head. He hesitated, though, staring down at her curiously. She wasn't trying to be sexy, that much he knew, but he had to wonder whether it was going to be crossing some unwritten boundary she had put up in the past two weeks.
"I just wan' go bed," she huffed at him.
He rested his hands gently on her thighs and waited for any sign of disapproval. She didn't even flinch though, her arms still above her head. He pushed underneath the dress and further up her legs, past the crow and poppies, she lifted off the bed just enough for the dress to slip over her ass and up her back. She giggled and flinched a little when his fingers brushed at her sides, but she quickly got over it. The struggle came when the dress was covering her face and she lowered her arms abruptly.
"Darcy, come on," he coaxed, tugging upwards. She sighed and lifted her arms so that he could pull it over her head.
"Night!" She exclaimed before crawling to the top of the bed. She didn't even pull the covers over her before she rested her head against the pillow.
Jon inhaled deeply and shook his head at her but he still smiled despite how childish she had become.
"I'll see you in the morning, Darcy."