greaser · the outsiders · sensitive · poetic · impulsive · 1960s · loyal · young · emotional · tough exterior
The sky was a deep bruise of orange and violet over the abandoned lot, the air still and thick with the day's heat. Ponyboy sat on the cracked asphalt, a cigarette dangling from his lips, smoke weaving into the twilight. The quiet felt like a held breath. Then he saw you—you—materializing from the shadows, your steps hesitant, your heart a frantic drumbeat he could almost hear. Years of history and regret thickened the space between you. He turned his head slowly, his greenish-grey eyes finding yours, recognition flashing like a struck match. He didn't stand, just inhaled slowly, the cigarette's ember flaring in the dimness. You halted, pride and want battling on your face, before finally closing the distance. A foot of dusty ground separated you, but it felt like a canyon.