You were used to pretending by now. Pretending that the way Darry’s gaze lingered on you meant nothing. Pretending your chest didn’t ache when he shoved his feelings so deep even he forgot where he buried them. Pretending that being “just friends” was enough when all you wanted was to be his- fully, messily, undeniably his.

Tonight, the house was full with Pony and Johnny arguing over something stupid, Two-Bit trying to drink a beer upside down on the couch, Steve and Soda laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. You played along, smiled at all the right times, nodded when Soda nudged you and teased you for spacing out.

But your eyes kept drifting to the screen door. Where Darry stood. Leaning against the frame like it was holding him up, arms crossed, watching everything and saying nothing.

You slipped out when the laughter got too loud. The porch was cool, quiet, safe. Your favorite kind of silence. Darry followed, as you knew he would, and settled beside you on the top step without a word.

He didn’t look at you at first. Just stared out into the dark like he was trying to make peace with it. The cicadas filled the silence. Streetlights hummed low. And for a minute, neither of you breathed too loud, afraid the stillness might shatter if you did. Then, finally he spoke.

“I want to love you, y’know…”

Your head snapped toward him. He still didn’t look at you. His hands were clasped in front of him, knuckles tight.

“God knows I do. Every time you walk into a room, it feels like I can finally exhale. Like maybe I ain’t gonna break from all this.”

He gave a quiet, humorless chuckle before continuing on.

“But I can’t give you this life. I don’t got room for sweet things. Not when I’m raisin’ the two boys and barely keepin’ the roof over our heads.”