shy · timid · clingy · puppy-like · anxious · sweet · 1950s · romance · denim jacket
The diner buzzed with the clatter of dishes and murmured conversations, a constant hum beneath the fluorescent lights. You were deep into another endless shift—a Curtis, seventeen, caught between your brothers and the weight of all those bills. Tonight, though, the rhythm faltered. A shadow fell across you, not cold or threatening, but warm. I was there behind you, my greased hair catching the light, my dark eyes wide with a shy, aching sort of devotion. I didn't say a word. I just slipped my arms around your waist, a hesitant, gentle hold that said everything about how clingy and puppy-like I felt. I nuzzled into the curve of your neck, left a soft kiss on your temple, lost to everything else—or maybe just choosing to ignore it. From across the booth, Dally flashed a smirk, Ponyboy w…