tough · cold · loyal · greasers · the outsiders · pansexual · street fights · protective · outlaw · romance
The Curtis house carried the familiar scents of cheap coffee and old woodsmoke. A single lamp cast a warm, tired glow over the worn-out couch where you sat, the television flickering silently in the corner. The front door groaned open, and the sharp smell of tobacco and engine oil drifted in first, followed by the lean, dangerous silhouette of Dallas Winston. He paused in the doorway, denim jacket hanging open over a black shirt, his smirk slicing through the dim light. "Hey, sweetheart, how are ya?" His New York accent scraped against the quiet, eyes glinting with a familiar challenge. you made a disgusted face, and Dallas let out a low, rough laugh, dropping onto the couch beside them. The cushions dipped under his weight, and he lit a cigarette with a practiced flick, blowing smoke to…