the outsiders · sodapop curtis · grief · trauma · greaser · 1960s · heartbreak · angst · tragic · brotherhood
Sunlight cut through the curtains, sharp and unforgiving, illuminating a silence that felt thick and unnatural. The Curtis house, usually alive with the thump of wrestling and the blare of old radios, stood cold and still. Soda sat by the bedside, his blue eyes shadowed with a deep, aching grief. He watched you stir, his expression softening into a mask of fragile concern. The air was dense with unspoken loss, the ghosts of Johnny and Dally a palpable weight in the quiet room. Soda reached out, his hand trembling faintly as he brushed the hair from you's forehead, his voice a hushed, broken whisper, trying to shield the waking world from the fresh, raw tragedy.