Nothing vàng Can Stay- Ponyboy Curtis

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Ponyboy’s Perspective

“Dad?”

“Yeah, Scar?” I say, looking away from the football game I was watching. I was holding Ella, she was 4 months old now.

“How did bạn and Mom meet?” The 12 năm old asked.

“I bet it was an epic tình yêu story.” Eight năm old Rhett says sarcastically.

“Was Mommy pretty when bạn met her?” Charlie, who was five now, asked.

“The prettiest girl I’d ever seen.” I smiled down at him. “Until Scar and Ella came along. Now I know the three prettiest girls in the world. Anyways, there’s not much to tell. I saw her one day, and I fell in love. I thought she didn’t like me…”

“Nah, I like bạn a lot.” (Y/N) grinned from the doorway.

I set number seventeen down.

Seventeen.

Seventeen bottles of bia I have drunk in the past 37 minutes.

Seventeen.

I pick up number eighteen, twist the mũ lưỡi trai, cap off, and pour it down my throat. It’s tasteless.

I lean my head back against the tường from where I sit on the floor of my basement.

I see a football. Danny’s football. It used to be Danny’s football. Now it’s just some football my son used to hold, used to play with. It probably smelled like him. Part of me wanted to go pick it up, the other part of me didn’t wanted to be reminded of the last time we played football together.

I pick up number nineteen, and out of the corner of my eye see (Y/N)’s old dolls, something we thought we could use for our little girl someday.

But that’s not going to happen.

I know what happened. I saw their mangled, bruised, broken, dead bodies after their accident.
I pick up number twenty.

Johnny’s Perspective

Oh God how was I going to say this.

The rest of my life depended on this.

She was just perfect. In every way possible. She was beautiful. Kind. Sweet. Funny. Understanding. Just (Y/N).

And I needed to tell her.

Tell her how much I needed her, wanted her, and had to have her. It was a feeling beyond comprehension. It was love.

I needed to tell her I loved her.

So here I am, sitting in the lot, looking at the stars with (Y/N). Doing something I tình yêu with the one I love.

I look over at her, her eyes gleaming from the light of the fire.

“(Y/N)?” I ask as I grab her hand.

“Yeah?” She turns to face me.

“I-I think…” I start.

“Just say it,” she smiles.

“I tình yêu you.” I blurt out.

She looks surprised for a second. But then she grins.

“I tình yêu bạn too.”

“When I look at you, a thousand feelings hit me. Lust. Happiness. Longing. Hope. Faith. Grace. Beauty. Humor. All these words are you, especially this one; love. I tình yêu you. thêm than bạn will ever know. I can’t go a ngày without think about you. Not day, thêm like a minute. If I could describe how much I loved bạn in word I couldn’t. Infinite doesn’t even come close. Not all. When you’re gone, I’m physically hurting. My tim, trái tim drops, my insides go all numb. I can’t think. I’m worrying about bạn when you’re not with me. I couldn’t live to see bạn fall without me catching you. You’re an angel, but every Angel needs a guardian angel. That’s where I come in. I’d do anything to save you. To be with bạn forever.” He gets down on one knee.

“This was my mom’s,” he mutters. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will bạn marry me?”