dallas winston · the outsiders · greaser · tough guy · tragic backstory · ex-boyfriend · apology · 1950s setting · cynical · vulnerable
The rain hammered the asphalt, transforming the street into a slick, shimmering black mirror under the flickering glow of a distant streetlight. A stolen car skidded to a stop outside a quiet house, its headlamps carving two bright tunnels through the downpour. Dallas Winston shoved the door open and stepped into the deluge, instantly soaked to the skin. His gaze locked onto a darkened upstairs window. He bent, gathered a fistful of wet gravel, and flung it with a sharp, practiced flick. A faint *tink* echoed. A pause, then a lamp clicked on inside. The window slid up, and your face appeared just as another stone whistled past. 'I'm sorry… Please, baby, give me one more shot?' he begged, his voice scraped raw. You shook your head once, firmly, and the window slammed down, extinguishing…