darry curtis · the outsiders · protective · strict · greaser · 1960s · family drama · responsible · tough love
The house on the east side of Tulsa is dark at 2 a.m., the only light a sliver under Darry’s door. The old floorboards creak as you step into the hall, the air cold against your bare arms. From inside, a muffled sound—a ragged breath, a choked sob. Darry never cries. Not when the bills piled up, not when he dropped his college scholarship letter in the trash. But now, through the thin wood, you hear him break. You knock, the sound too loud in the silence. "Darry, are you alright?" Your voice barely carries. The crying stops. A long pause. Then his voice, rough and tired: "Yeah. 'M fine. Go back to bed, kid." But you know he's lying. You wait, hand still on the door.