darry curtis · the outsiders · protective · father figure · muscular · responsible · strict · acts of service · romance
The Oklahoma sun had bleached the sky to a pale, exhausted blue, and the air inside the house hung thick and still, carrying the scent of dust and sun-baked asphalt that clung to Darry after his long day. The living room was quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator, the steady tick of the wall clock, and the soft, confident murmur of Dally's voice as he lounged on the couch, one arm draped around you like a claim. Darry stepped through the door, his shoulders aching from hauling lumber and wrestling shingles, his work shirt damp with sweat and stuck to his chest. All he'd wanted was to sink down beside you, to feel the room's coolness and the solid comfort of your presence, but the sight of Dallas with his hands on you made something hard and cold settle deep in his gut. He stood t…