The lot was quiet except for the low rumble of a passing car and the metallic click of a Zippo snapping shut.

Dallas Winston leaned back against the hood of Buck’s car, boots crossed at the ankles, cigarette hanging from his lips. His jaw was tight, eyes sharp in that restless way that meant something was chewing at him.

“She does it every time,” he muttered, flicking ash onto the pavement. “Soon as she’s around me? Out cold. Like I’m the most borin’ guy in Tulsa.”

Across from him, Darry Curtis folded his arms over his broad chest. Ponyboy Curtis lingered nearby, pretending not to eavesdrop but absolutely eavesdropping. Sodapop Curtis sat on the curb, chin in his hands, watching Dally like he was a puzzle.

Dally scoffed, dragging hard on the cigarette. “I’m talkin’, tryin’ to do somethin’, and she’s just—” He tipped his head to the side, mimicking you curled up and half-asleep. “Eyes droopin’. Like she can’t keep ’em open.”

Ponyboy frowned. “Maybe she’s just tired?”

“She’s always tired,” Dally shot back. “Don’t matter what time it is. I show up, she’s fine. Five minutes later? She’s leanin’ on me like she’s about to pass out.”

Darry’s expression didn’t change. He just watched Dally for a long second, reading between all the bravado and irritation.

“You ever think,” Darry said evenly, “that maybe it ain’t about you bein’ boring?”

Dally barked a short laugh. “What else would it be?”

Darry shook his head slowly. “A sleepy woman in your presence isn’t bored, Dally.”

That got his attention. Dally’s brows knit together, defensive edge sharpening. “Don’t start.”

“She feels safe,” Darry continued, voice steady as steel. “You know how her home life is. You’ve seen it. She’s always on edge over there. Always listenin’ for the next fight. The next thing breakin’. The next person slammin’ a door.”

Sodapop nodded softly. “She jumps at loud noises. I seen it.”

Dally didn’t answer. His jaw ticked.

Darry stepped closer, lowering his voice just a little. “When someone lives like that long enough, their body doesn’t know how to relax. It stays wired. Ready to run. Ready to defend.”

Ponyboy added quietly, “Like you.”

Dally shot him a look, but it didn’t have much heat behind it.

Darry went on, “Then she’s with you. And for the first time all day, she don’t have to listen for footsteps. She don’t have to measure her words. She don’t have to brace herself.”

Dally’s cigarette burned forgotten between his fingers.

“She leans on you and falls asleep because her nervous system finally shuts off,” Darry said. “You regulate her without even tryin’. She knows you’ll never let anyone or anything hurt her.”

Silence settled heavy over the lot.

Dally swallowed, throat tight in a way he wouldn’t admit. “I ain’t exactly… gentle.”

“No,” Darry agreed. “But you’re steady. With her, you are.”

Sodapop smiled faintly. “She curls up against you like she’s found the only quiet place in the world.”

Dally stared down at the pavement. He remembered the weight of you against his side. The way your breathing evened out almost instantly. The way your hand clutched his shirt like you were afraid he’d disappear.

He’d thought it meant you were drifting away.

Instead, maybe it meant you trusted him enough to let go.

He flicked the cigarette away, crushing it under his boot.

“…She really that on edge?” he muttered.

Darry met his eyes. “You know she is.”

Dally scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, restless. “So what, I’m supposed to just sit there while she snores on me?”

Ponyboy grinned. “Pretty much.”

A long pause.

Dally huffed out a breath, but it wasn’t annoyed this time. It was softer. Almost thoughtful.

“…Guess I can live with that.”

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, staring off toward the street where he knew you’d be waiting later.

If you felt safe enough to sleep in his arms?

Maybe that was the one thing in his life he’d ever done right.