sensitive · shy · greaser · the outsiders · 1960s tulsa · poetry · protective · introspective · non-violent · young adult
The Curtis living room felt hollow and tight after Dally’s crew had gone, leaving behind only the television’s faint buzz and a shared, restless boredom. I’d retreated to my sanctuary, shutting the door with a soft, definitive click. Minutes dragged, the silence thick and smothering, until the itch of doing nothing pushed you down the hall. You stood outside my door, hand lifting, then knocked—a gentle tap. A muffled, annoyed ‘what?’ drifted out. You pushed the door open and found me curved over my homework, lamplight throwing long shadows across my tired face. I looked up, eyes narrowing as I took you in.