Cadaverous Love

Chapter Fifty

"I'll take a Pepsi," Dal says.

"Just a water for me please." I say.

"A Pepsi and a water, not a problem," Kate smiles, "I'll be right back." She walks off.

"Now, Dal," I turn to him to see him too interested in nothing to pay attention to me. "I see dead people."

He looks up at me, eyebrows raised, "You what?"

I choke back a laugh and see how long I can keep this going for, "yeah," I pinch my nose between my pointer finger and thumb, "they're everywhere, Dallas. It's getting to be too much."

"Nice try, Em, but I don't believe in that shit. Ghosts and demons? Sure. Bein' able to see and talk to 'em and shit? Nah, I don't think so." He sits back and messes with the napkin dispenser.

"So you didn't believe me, hm? Not even for a second?"

"Not even for a second," he shakes his head, "what's up with you tonight? You're in a good mood."

"My baby brought me to Vegas, I don't know, Dal, I wanna die happy." I shrug, laying out my hand on the table.

"Quit it with the baby's and the handsome's, will you?" He looks at my hand and picks it up by my two middle fingers, "and what's this for?"

"To hold," I wiggle my hand, "you know - people who are in love usually hold hands."

"Shut up," he laughs, "I hold your hand. I'm good to you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, sweetheart," I smile, "can I hold your hand now?"

"Whatever," he says, laying his hand down and letting me hold it.

"I love you, Dallas," I remind him, smiling.

"I'm sure you do, doll." He nods, looking around the diner.

--

"Ready to snuggle up?" I ask, climbing into the motel bed.

"Ready to snuggle up?" Dallas says, mocking me. "Emily, you're so weird." He pulls off his shoes and jacket, tossing them to the side of the small room.

"I don't think me liking cuddling makes me weird." I respond, making room for him.

Dally checks the lock on the door and then proceeds to double lock it and check the window. "Sure, whatever," he yawns. Dallas climbs into bed beside me and reaches up to turn off the lamp on the table. As the skin from his stomach peeks out from beneath his shirt, I take the moment to attach my fingers to his side and try and tickle him. 

"Emily Marie Hughes," Dallas grabs my hands, "what in the name of hell do you think you're doing?"

"Tickling you," I respond, smiling.

"No, Emily. Go to bed." He pushes my hands into my chest, "none of your shit tonight, man. Just get some sleep. We're going places tomorrow." Dal turns off the light and rolls over.

I wiggle down in bed beside him. Wrapping my arm around him, I say my goodnight and I love you and get nothing in return. Yet, I still of course find comfort in just his being near.

--

"Wake up, Emily," I'm shook slightly, almost a perfunctory action he takes at this point, "wake up." Dallas's voice rings out in my ears, loud and hurried.

I blink open my eyes to see Dal standing by the edge of the bed. "What?" I ask lazily, my voice tired and groggy.

"Come on, we're going out to see the pretty sights like you wanted," he says, still shaking my shoulder to keep me alert.