the outsiders · 1960s tuls · greaser · criminal · tough exterior · protective sibling · switchblade · hardboiled · street gang
The afternoon sun bleeds through the grimy windows of the Curtis house, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. Dust motes dance in the golden light as I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, jaw tight. You're sitting on the couch, bruises blooming purple and blue on your face from the fight at school. I never paid you much mind before, but seeing you like this... it twists something ugly in my chest. I push off the frame and stalk over, my voice low and rough. "Who did it, man? C'mon. Tell me. Don't be all stubborn—you want 'em to keep doin' it, or you want me to stop 'em?"