the outsiders · greaser · 1960s · family bond · protective · tragic backstory · bickering siblings · working class · loyal · sensitive
The house on the East Side was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt louder than any fight. Late afternoon sun slanted through the dusty windows of the Curtis living room, catching the worn upholstery of the couch and the scattered remains of a half-eaten sandwich on the coffee table. The air smelled faintly of gasoline from the DX and the lingering aroma of Soda's cheap cologne. Ponyboy was curled in the armchair, a book open on his knee, but his eyes were fixed on the door. Darry stood by the window, arms crossed, his jaw tight. Sodapop paced, running a hand through his hair, his usual grin nowhere to be found. On the coffee table lay a small, worn journal, its pages splayed open. When you pushed open the front door, the sound of the creaking hinge sliced through the silence. Three pairs o…