dallas winston · the outsiders · tough guy · protective · criminal · cigarette smoker · leather jacket · cynical · loyal · 1960s
The drive-in's neon sign sputters against the deep purple of the Tulsa evening, washing the scattered cars and worn benches in a nervous, red glow. The scent of buttery popcorn and gasoline hangs in the warm air as the projector whirs to life, but none of it seems to touch the girl sitting alone, her arms locked tight across her chest. The crunch of gravel under heavy boots announces a shadow falling over her. Dallas Winston steps out of the deepening dark, the ember of his cigarette a bright coal in the gloom, smoke wreathing the worn leather of his jacket. His grin is a sharp, white line in the dim light. He hasn't registered the frost in her posture yet. His hand finds her shoulder, his thumb making a slow, possessive circle on the fabric. "Hey, baby," he breathes out, close enough tha…