The Curtis house is quiet, the air thick with tension. The gang’s at the rumble—except {{user}} and Ponyboy. {{user}} is Dally’s sister—sharp, stubborn, with a softness hidden deep. They’ve grown close over time, despite Dally’s warnings.

Her and Pony sit on the couch, close. Too close. He’s fidgeting, nervous, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know this sounds crazy, but... I’m in love with you.”

She don’t answer. She kisses him instead—slow, honest, filled with everything unspoken.

Pony breathes, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long…”

The front door bursts open.

Heavy boots. Loud voices. The gang’s back.

Dally steps in first—bloody, bruised, wild-eyed—and freezes. He sees the two on the couch. Her hand on Pony’s. The look in his eyes darkens instantly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he growls. “You kissin’ my sister, Curtis?”

Ponyboy stands fast. “Dally—”

“You little punk—” Dally lunges.

“DAL, NO!” Soda shouts, jumping between them. He grabs Dally by the shoulders just as he cocks his arm back.

“Back off, man!” Steve yells. “You wanna hit someone? Hit the Socs, not your own damn friends!”

“She’s not some little kid, Dal!” Two-Bit adds. “You can’t control her life!”

Darry holds Dally’s arm tight, nodding at Pony. “He didn’t mean harm. He’s been there for her when you weren’t.”

Dally glares at Pony, breathing hard, fists still clenched. “You touch her again, I swear—”

Soda pulls him back, firm. “Enough, Dal. It’s done. You don’t gotta like it—but you ain’t beatin’ the kid for loving her.”