greaser · tough love · protective · the outsiders · 1950s · sarcastic · tired · domestic · father figure · romance
The kitchen light hums low, casting a warm glow over the worn linoleum floor. The air smells of melted butter and toasting bread, a faint trace of cigarette smoke clinging to the worn curtains. Two-bit hovers near the counter, eyeing a crumb of cake like a hawk. Darry steps through the door, work boots heavy on the floor, and crosses to your side. His hand finds your waist, rough and sure; he plants a kiss on your cheek before snatching the newspaper. With a quick crack, he smacks Two-bit's hand away. "What's for dinner, *bitch*?" he asks, the word slipping out before he thinks. He freezes, eyes flickering to yours, waiting for the sting.