Doc Martens, my love

She starred at him from her pillow, his closely shaven hair, his blonde eyelashes. She could feel her lip trembling and the tear that welled up in her eye and slowly slid down her face. Instanly his eyes opened, as if he knew, and he pulled her closer to him. But she pushed away not allowing her self to get closer to the monster again. He stared at her seemingly hurt, but his grey eyes instantly grew cold, as they always did when he was hurt. Some men found it hard to express their emotions but he, he couldn't handle them at all, and some how he had mastered a way to push them away completely and cover then up with his cold dark looks.

Her bottom lip still trembled as she bit it more tears slid down her face. He reached out to wipe one away and she did nothing. She let him. He moved closer to her and sat up a bit on his elbow, and leaned in to kiss her. She allowed him to, and they kissed passionately for a moment until she pulled away and stared into his stormy grey eyes with her deep brown ones.

"I—" he began, but she shook her head not wanting to hear it, half wishing that the words that would come after I would be "Love you" and half wishing that they wouldn't. Because this kind of love wasn't right, and she knew it all too well. He said nothing more and fell back onto the bed sighing.

"you're not making this easy Chaunte." He told her, she whipped the rest of the tears away and starred blankly up at the ceiling wondering what would become of them.

"No Dallas, you're not making this easy." She retorted, and with that he stood up. Dressing as if nothing had happened. First his t-shirt, then his boxers, then the tattered blue jeans and the hat, that covered up his shaven head. Lastly the boots. The ones he always wore, the ones that forever would be etched in her mind. From the time she had been tossed onto a dirt road and had seen them at her eyelevel. Somehow glistening in the hot sunlight, she could remember her eyes scrolling upwards, barely able to see the man before her but inherently knowing that he was a skinhead.

They were his doc martens, and they defined him.

She watched him as he left, her body still hidden by the covers. He looked back at her as if wishing he could kiss her once more before he left. But he didn't, he couldn't. everything about their relationship was wrong, and staying there for another moment would have made it unbearably worse. So he left her alone in the motel room.

Sydney's body was to lazy to get up, so she laid there half a sleep, as usual thinking about him.

The next day was normal, like every other day, or so she thought. She got up in the morning and went to work at the studio she owned with her best friend. It was called "The Clothing Studio" and original name for the place where they designed what they deemed to be couture clothing.

"You look dead." Sydney stated walking into the studio with her higheeled shoes, hand painted by Zumez a graffiti artist whom she had befriended back in her "bad" days.

"Wow great way to say hello Syd." Naomi spoke leaning against a drawing table that she seemed to be hunched over, her long blonde hair was fixed neatly into a bun held together by chopsticks that poked out. "No hey Ny how's it going, no these days we just like to jump right into the blunt stuff." Naomi. Sydney nodded.

"Hellz yes, so what were you up to?" Sydney asked showing no trace what so ever about the sadness she had felt the night before.

"Mee, oh you know the usual." She told Syd tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, and reaching for one of the two lattes that Syd had been holding in her hands.

"Up late fucking around with Ryan?" Naomi blushed.

"Nooooo" she said dragging out the o obviously lieing, Sydney knew her better than that. Syd shook her head.

"Ok captain secretive, what's instore for today?" Syd asked and Naomi walked over to "the book" their bible that had all their complete schedule in it, after Naomi's Mac had crashed almost a year ago they had decided to write down their schedule instead of relying on technology to keep them on time.

"Well we have a bridal consoultation with a Miss Emmy Ellendale." Syd cringed.

"I hate weddings." Syd said absentmindedly thinking about Dallas. Would they ever get married? She wondered vaguely, knowing the answer already. And if they wouldn't then why the hell was she still hanging onto him?

"And then we have to get the costumes ready for Gladys, and Blane is coming in with Victoria, to get her dress done for the benefit, and after that we should be homefree." Naomi told her. Syd breathed a sigh of relief, wondering if Dallas would be at her house when she got there.

"When's Wales coming in?" Syd asked referring to their standing model, a tall red head named Sandy who had a charming personality and had quickly become another one of their friends. Naomi looked down at her watch.

"Soon," she responded getting back to the dress she had been sketching. Syd silently looked over her shoulder, it was a beautiful wedding dress. the kind that she knew Naomi, who often dreamed of marrying young and raising a family, would wear.

The bell wrung indicating that someone was entering from downstairs and walking up the stairs.

As soon as the northern European face of a young woman entered through the door, Syd knew it couldn't be good. she knew she knew her, her face was too unique, there was something about her, and five seconds later hot on her heels, there he was. Standing at six foot four in a white linen shirt and black pants, with black shoes. Her knees almost gave, and she held onto the drawing table for dear life, a slight gasp escaped her lips. She starred at him in disbelief. And instantly his eyes went to her, as did everyone else in their party of eight. She could feel her nails digging into the wood, and it was a blur as Naomi tried to distract them.

"Hello guys, how is it going? I'm Naomi, and I'm going to help you today,…. Unfortunately our model isn't here yet… she should be coming in anytime now… Oh hey Bethany. This is our model Bethany Wales,"

"Hi guys"

She heard it all the pauses the footsteps but she had instantly retreated to the back where the dresses were hung, she sat on a stool breathing heavily, fearing she might hyperventilate and collapse.

"Beth why don't you go into the back and put on the first gown?" she heard Naomi tell her.

"Sure thing." Within a few seconds Beth was behind the two walls, and curtain that connected the two and hid the back.

"Syd what are you doing back here?" she asked looking surprised. Sydney sighed and looked up at her tall friend.

"I know him," she told Beth who instantly knew who she was talking about since he was the only guy.

"That ladies husband, he looks exactly like her." Beth said shivering as if to show her disdain. Syd instantly began helping Beth into her dress.

"Maybe they're hicks, and they're really first cousins." Beth whispered childishly and Syd laughed at her innocence, as she walked out of the curtains.

"So ladies and gentleman this is our first dress, the classic bridesmaid with a modern twist, designed and made by my associate Miss—" Naomi began but Emmy cut her off.

"I don't want it." She said coldly. Syd peeked out from the curtains to see Naomi's awkward nod, she didn't understand.

"Oh, okay…. So our next dress." She began again trying to compensate for the awkwardness in the silent room. Beth came back.

"What a bitch she didn't even see the dress," Beth whispered as Syd helped her into another dress, which she had designed, and hoped Naomi wouldn't mention that. Beth went back out and she head the gasps, of the women who seemed to like it.

And the next two hours went on like that. Syd sitting on the bench, occasionally helping Beth into clothes. Beth walking out and parading her designs, since Naomi did do bridesmaids gowns. And Naomi narrating the whole thing, still wondering what the hell was up with Syd. At one point in time she finally hear his voice, and practically jumped.

"Where's the washroom?" he asked calmly.

"just in the back, I'm sure Sydney will show you the way." Naomi told him, Syd's heart began to beat fast as she heard his footsteps coming closer, she had never actually been with him in public, in a non hostile environment. And then he appeared, breaking apart the curtains with such force it scared her. He starred at her in the eye, not a hint of anything in his eyes as he stepped away from the curtains. She could vaguely hear the women in the background talking. As he stood in front of her.

"Dallas." She breathed. He leaned down and kissed her hard on the lips. She held onto him fearing she might fall off her stool. Time seemed to move too slowly, she could feel something burning inside of him, as if it was something he needed to get out but couldn't express with words. She didn't know how long they had been kissing for. But she heard Beth's gasp, and was snapped out of the trance that he always seemed to put her in. Syd pulled away when she heard Beth, and Dallas backed away half a second after, pausing for a moment to stare her in the eye before continuing his walk back to the washroom which he didn't even ask directions to leaving the two women there alone.

"What the fuuuuuck?" Beth whispered, her big blue eyes growing wide. "why are you kissing the bride's groom?" Syd shook her head and shrugged.

" I have no idea." But she wasn't wondering why she was kissing the groom, she was wondering why she was kissing a neo nazi skinhead, when she was half black.

a/n: I hoped you liked it, it poped into my mind while starring at my Docs (not crocs) anyhoo yes o! and I should mention that Chaunte is Syd, and it will be explained later. Kk thanks! R&R please it'll make me wanna write more.