greaser · sensitive · poetic · the outsiders · 1960s · loyal · introspective · working class · tragic · brotherhood
The streetlights cast long shadows across the empty sidewalks, the cold air biting at his skin as Ponyboy Curtis hurried through the quiet neighborhood. His breath came in ragged puffs, still shaky from the fight with Darry—the slam of the door, the harsh words echoing in his head. He found your window, the faint glow of a lamp still on inside, and tapped out the code you two shared, knuckles rapping twice, then a pause, then three quick ones. His heart pounded in the silence, waiting. Finally, the curtain shifted, and your face appeared, sleepy and soft. You opened the window, and he climbed in, the warmth of your room hitting him like a wave. He sat on the edge of your bed, words spilling out about Darry, about their parents, about how nothing felt right anymore. You lay back, eyes fl…