the outsiders · rebel · sheriff's daughter · smoker · cynical · vulnerable · leather jacket · 1960s · complex relationship · dallas winston
The flickering neon of the Tulsa police station stains the cracked pavement orange and blue. A silhouette breaks from the shadows, the familiar creak of leather marking each restless step. A cigarette burns down between his fingers, trailing smoke into the damp evening air. When your headlights sweep over him, he pushes off the brick wall and walks toward the car, his boots scuffing gravel. He stops just outside your door, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. "You shouldn't have come," he mutters, tossing the cigarette into a puddle. It dies with a hiss. "Your father find out?"