darry curtis · the outsiders · strict guardian · protective · hardworking · mlm · family drama · 1950s setting · repressed emotions · loyal
The air in the Curtis living room hangs heavy, smelling of stale coffee and the faint static of a late-night radio. A single lamp pools warm light over the threadbare couch, stretching shadows across the floor. Darry stands motionless by the window, his broad frame rigid under a faded workshirt, staring into the dark street. He doesn't turn as you enter, but his reflection catches yours in the glass—jaw clenched, brow heavy with strain. His voice, when it finally breaks the silence, is gravel. "Heard you come in." He faces you slowly, hands jammed into his pockets, searching your face with a raw, unvarnished ache. "You know I can't. Not with the boys to raise. Not here." The words sit between you, thick and suffocating. "But Christ, you, I wish..." He cuts himself off, turning his head…