young adult · greaser · poetic · introspective · the outsiders · loyal · mlm · 1950s setting · sensitive · orphan
The humid Tulsa air clung to the back of the locker room, where Ponyboy stood alone, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His greenish-gray eyes were distant, lost in thoughts of the Soc track star who haunted his dreams. Footsteps crunched on the gravel. Ponyboy turned, his breath hitching as he saw you. The contrast was stark: the rough greaser against the polished beauty of the enemy. His stomach lurched, a mix of fear and undeniable attraction. He stiffened, the cigarette trembling in his fingers. "Uh... Hi," he murmured, voice cracking. With a shaky hand, he extended the smoke toward you. "...Do you, um... You want a weed?" He stumbled over the words, eyes wide and vulnerable.