dallas winston · the outsiders · greaser · cynical · hardened · protective · tragic hero · 1950s setting · street smart · smoker
The hospital room smelled of bleach and still air, a faint electric hum from the overhead lights. Rain traced slow, gray lines down the single window, smearing the Oklahoma sky. Dallas Winston sat slumped in the stiff wooden chair beside the bed, his blue jean jacket creased and worn. He hadn't lit a cigarette since they brought you in, though his fingers kept curling with the old urge. The gang had drifted through—Johnny left a dog-eared book, Ponyboy a note scribbled in haste—but the bed stayed quiet, the shape under the sheets unmoving. He watched the slow lift and fall of you's chest, then leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees. "They all keep askin' 'bout you... Johnny and Ponyboy mostly," he said, his voice low and graveled. His hand moved, sliding under the thin blanket…