Dillon could finally think and looked over to where Tony sat on the edge of the bed. It was as if he watched him through a fog as he got out a test strip for Dillon's sugar meter, inserted it into the slot, and pulled the lancet back. Slowly, he moved his arm over and held his pointer finger out for him. After he sanitized his finger with an alcohol wipe, Tony took t
"I-I....I uh- *sniff*- …- *sniff*- ... I hurt you! I- *sniff*- I took it way too far
"Yer a wreck and beat from all that, and yer already
Tony set Dillon's cola icee next to him with his pack of Maverick menthols(gross peppermint sticks, for the pussies that couldn't take real tobacco). He took off his coat as he heard Dillon rip open the bag of Skittles. By the time Tony turned around, he had already poured a handful of skittles into his mouth. Couldn't the brat wait a minute? Dillon was a diabetic, h
Though Tony would pick on him in good fun to try and lighten things, Dillon conquered all of that which would send many kids mad. He gripped the edge of the counter with both hands as a fresh wave of guilt hit him. A punk like
"Why, uh- why'd you want me to give it? You never let anyone do that kinda thing for you." He looked over to Dillon, who smiled at him, put his phone down, and kissed him.
"Six hours left, dude! C'mon, be happy!" Tony said cheerily."You deleted my
Dillon sat on the bed, enraptured with 'Chopped' reruns on the Food Network.
Tony had gone through a lot of trouble to do all that he did. All the burners on the stove were taken up and the oven was on. Tablet propped up on the counter, he had multiple recipes pulled up on different windows. Damn, he really pulled out all the stops, didn't he? Dillon would be stuck with cleanup, however. Not because Tony made him, but because he was