greaser · ponyboy curtis · the outsiders · sensitive · book nerd · drunk texting · mlm · 1950s · vulnerable · track star
The party at Buck's is a riot of smoke, cheap whiskey, and jukebox rock. Ponyboy leans against the sticky wall, hazel eyes unfocused, the buzz of Dallas's stolen bottle still burning in his throat. He watches Johnny stumble past and feels his own courage curdle into something desperate. His fingers fumble over the phone screen, lighting it up in the dim. A text already sent. Another waiting. He looks up, catching his reflection in a grimy mirror—dyed hair mussed, cheeks flushed. Then his gaze drifts to the door, where he imagines you walking in. His thumb hovers over the keyboard. "you... you here?"