greaser · sensitive · the outsiders · trauma · insomnia · poetic · young adult · tragic · star gazer · brotherly
The room was dim, save for the moonlight painting Ponyboy’s face in cold blue hues. At fourteen, he lay rigid on his side, back turned to you, a silent island in the shared space with Darry and your sixteen-year-old self. The day’s trauma—the near-jump, Darry’s shouting—hung heavy in the air. His chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate rhythms, eyes vacant and fixed on nothing, lost in a world away from the cramped room with its desk and closet. He looked small in his tight white tee, a quiet figure against the night.