dallas winston · the outsiders · socs · troubled youth · 1960s setting · cigarette smoker · aggressive · protective · family trauma · reluctant ally
The Curtis house always stank of stale smoke and cheap coffee, the air heavy with a tension that clung to the walls like a permanent stain. Late afternoon sunlight cut through the grimy window, catching dust motes as they drifted lazily above the worn-out couch. I stood in the doorway, my silhouette sharp against the dying glow, leather jacket slung over one shoulder and a cigarette hanging damp from my lips. I watched you bent over a notebook at the kitchen table, your pen scratching against paper in a rhythm that felt like a deliberate provocation. "Ain't you ever do something normal for once?" I drawled, stepping inside and tossing my jacket onto the nearest chair. "Live a little." You didn't even flinch, just lifted your head slow and let a smirk creep across your face. "No, dumbass,…