completed jun 29 23
in the heat of the summer, two hearts become one
[I'M WELL AWARE OF HOW CRINGE GEORGIA IS JUST ROLL WITH IT <3]
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{the outsiders}
{dallas winston}
{some graphic content}
copyright 2020 seiruins
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1 '68'
1 '60s'
1 'steveran...
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Good Trouble August 30, 1968
Dally trailed behind Georgia on the walk back to the house. He was curious as to what exactly Paul had said to her that morning. She had obviously been shaken up when Dally had been hurt last, but he never expected it to go this deep. Deep enough for her to throw herself at someone who wanted to hurt her. Deep enough to, stupidly, yes, land herself into a situation that put her at risk. It made him dizzy thinking about it.
Georgia on the other hand could not silence her mind. She hadn't felt so much in so long: confusion, anger, admiration, guilt, and excitement. Sorting through what caused what gave her a headache. It was like a tiny war waging itself along her neural pathways. She'd made a promise, one that was cracking and flaking away. She tried not to think about it more than she needed.
Still, in a daze, the pair found the group in the living room, patching wounds and recounting their escapades. Just like before, all eyes were trained on Georgia when she walked in.
"So, I will not be doing that again," she laughed. She expected a thankful hum from the crowd. Instead, everyone looked at her with kind eyes. No one seemed upset.
"Yanno, despite being the worst idea you've ever had, it worked out," Johnny shrugged. He'd escaped unscathed.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Dally shoot the younger boy a look as if to say "Do not encourage her."
"Remind me never to make ya mad though," Two-Bit added, "you're scary."
Georgia laughed a bit. The shame of acting on impulse melted away. She did however know that planning was probably a better idea for the future. It'd never been her strong suit, especially when people she cared about were involved.
She stood there examining everyone for a moment longer before Darry came over with some towels and bandaids. She'd completely forgotten about the searing pain in her cheek. She gave him a small thanks before he returned to attending everyone.
Georgia walked to the bathroom to attend to her face. Upon seeing herself, she knew it was a permanent mark. No matter how it healed a scar would be left behind. She rubbed lightly at the cut to keep it from getting worse. She was so concentrated on it, she didn't notice when Soda leaned against the door frame.
"Thos are my good jeans," he crossed his arms. Georgia had forgotten she'd stolen his clothes.
"'M sorry," she mumbled. He wasn't mad about the jeans. The rest of the gang may have been impressed by Georgia's newfound recklessness, but Soda was less so.
