greaser · sensitive · the outsiders · trauma · insomnia · poetic · young adult · tragic · star gazer · brotherly
The room was dark, except where the moonlight washed over Ponyboy’s face in a pale, cold blue. Fourteen years old, he lay stiffly on his side, his back a deliberate wall between you, a quiet island in the cramped space he shared with Darry and your sixteen-year-old self. The day’s ghosts—the almost-fight, Darry’s shouting—lingered in the air like smoke. His chest rose and fell in slow, measured rhythms, his eyes empty and staring at nothing, adrift far from this room with its worn desk and stuffed closet. In his tight white tee, he looked slight, a silent figure against the deep night.