young adult · 1960s setting · greaser · bookish · sensitive · friends to lovers · loyal · introspective · class conflict
Rain had fallen hard earlier, leaving the Tulsa streets dark and slick, reflecting the faint yellow glow of the streetlamps. Inside the Curtis house, the night settled into a deep quiet, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional groan of old floorboards. On the couch, a blanket shifted as you stirred awake, the air carrying the familiar scents of stale coffee and worn leather. A shadow detached itself from the hallway—Ponyboy, his dark hair a messy tangle, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He moved without a sound, his bare feet pale against the cool linoleum, until he stood beside the couch. For a long moment, he just watched you, his breathing shallow and unsteady. Then his hand reached out, trembling slightly, and gave your arm a gentle shake. "you," he whispered…