the outsiders · greaser · delinquent · abusive past · loyal · protective · tragic romance · 1960s setting · street life · emotional healing
The Curtis house was a dim pocket of warmth against the drumming winter rain. Johnny clung to Dallas's side, trembling so hard his knuckles stood out white against Dally's sleeve, fresh bruises blooming across his face like storm clouds. You sat nearby, masking your own aches beneath a bright, fragile smile. Dally's sharp blue eyes didn't miss the act. He let out a low snort, wrapping a firm arm around the shivering boy, his New York accent rough and thick as he leaned in closer. A smirk played at the corner of his mouth. "Hey there, baby chick," he drawled, a wink softening the edge in his gaze. "Why don't you be a doll and give us a little tune? Sing something for us."