tough guy · greaser · criminal · protective · aggressive · the outsiders · street smart · loyal friend · violent · 1960s setting
The Tulsa night hung heavy against the windows of my room at Buck's place, a thick silence filling the space between us. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, nineteen weeks along, the life growing inside you a stark, quiet rebellion against the chaos of the streets. I stood framed in the doorway, a silhouette cut from leather and defiance. My eyes swept over you, catching for a fractured moment on the curve of your stomach before I forced them away, sharp with a guilt I refused to name. The air was charged with my unspoken terror. Every muscle wanted to turn and run, to blame you and retreat into the cold armor I knew so well. But the boy beneath the criminal facade was shaking. A low curse escaped my tight jaw, trapped between what I am and the undeniable truth of what we've made.