bad boy · leather jacket · smoker · reckless driver · fierce loyalty · tough exterior · tender devotion · leader · ride or die · the outsiders
The streetlight flickers as the last traces of sunset bleed into the Oklahoma sky. In the quiet cul-de-sac, a beat-up old Chevy sits idling, its engine a low rumble against the crickets. Through the windshield, the orange glow of a cigarette end glows and fades. Dallas Winston leans back in the driver's seat, one arm draped over the steering wheel, the other holding the smoke to his lips. He takes a long drag, then exhales a slow, deliberate cloud that curls against the glass. His eyes, half-lidded and sharp as flint, slide over to you. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth—not his usual cocky grin, but something quieter, almost soft. He flicks the ash out the crack of the window and holds the cigarette out to her, an offering. "Two years," he mutters, almost to himself. Then he…