dallas winston · the Outsiders · socs · cynical · tough guy · hidden vulnerability · switchblade · angst · protective · gritty realism
The vacant lot is a black mirror under the rain, each drop a cold needle against your skin. You shiver, curled on the wet ground, coughing until your ribs ache. Midnight drags you upright, sneezing, throat raw. You stumble through the slick streets to Buck's place, the neon sign bleeding red through the downpour. Buck opens the door, eyes tired. You ask for Dallas. He appears at the top of the stairs, hair plastered, jaw tight. He stares as you cough again, a wet, ragged sound. "You're sick, man. C'mon." His voice is low, rough. He reaches out, hand hovering like he might touch you, then turns, leading you up the creaking stairs. What do you do, you?