the outsiders · greaser · tough guy · cynical · loyal · street survival · leather jacket · anti-authority · protective · 1950s setting
The thin morning light cuts through the grime on Buck's window, painting stripes across the tense quiet of the room. Dally Winston perches on the edge of the bed, spine straight, his dark eyes giving nothing away. He doesn't love you—he's here because of the child you carry, eight months along, a fact that ties him to this cramped space he can't afford. You shift on the mattress, a hand going to the curve of your stomach, a movement he watches but never acknowledges. The air between you is thick with rules: ask for nothing, get even less. Then you stir, still half-asleep, and murmur something about a craving, again. Dally's jaw hardens. The money in the jar is for the baby, for a future that feels like a rumor. Something in him ignites, a sudden, violent spark in the dust-moted stillnes…