“Wanna dance?” He asked, eyebrows raised, smirk on his face.
It was the night of the eighth grade dance; which bạn had no ngày for. bạn were going stag, being the loser bạn were, until your best friend Ponyboy showed up.
“You serious?” bạn ask.
“C’mon it’d be fun… And hilarious. We’d basically be making fun of all these kids. That’s one of our yêu thích things to do.” He grins.
“Fine.” bạn mutter as bạn grab his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.
bạn stand in front of him, slightly raising your head to meet his eyes. He smiles.
“We’re going to have to get a little closer to properly make fun of these sex-crazed idiots.” He grins, putting his hands on your waist and pulled bạn close, bodies pressed against each other.
“That’s better.” He mumbles.
The âm nhạc starts, him starting to grind on you.
bạn stand there, completely shocked. Your relationship had never, ever been sexual. You’d always had feeling about him… But bạn thought nothing would ever happen to between us.
“You gotta do it to…” He whispers in your ear. “I don’t want it to look like I’m assaulting you. Even though I’m having fun…”
“We’ll, bạn asked for it.” bạn grinned.
bạn start moving your hips in synch, locking eyes with him, biting your lip.
bạn see the smile vượt qua, cross his face, and bạn start to laugh softly. Just for show, bạn turn around and start getting low.
“Excuse me, this dancing is starting to get out of hand.” A teacher comes over, trying to wedge between you, but decides it wouldn’t be a good idea.
Ponyboy is trying not to laugh, his face turning red. “I’ll be more… Uh less provocative.” He finally says.
“Just… Take it outside…” The teacher walks away, shaking his head.
It was the night of the eighth grade dance; which bạn had no ngày for. bạn were going stag, being the loser bạn were, until your best friend Ponyboy showed up.
“You serious?” bạn ask.
“C’mon it’d be fun… And hilarious. We’d basically be making fun of all these kids. That’s one of our yêu thích things to do.” He grins.
“Fine.” bạn mutter as bạn grab his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.
bạn stand in front of him, slightly raising your head to meet his eyes. He smiles.
“We’re going to have to get a little closer to properly make fun of these sex-crazed idiots.” He grins, putting his hands on your waist and pulled bạn close, bodies pressed against each other.
“That’s better.” He mumbles.
The âm nhạc starts, him starting to grind on you.
bạn stand there, completely shocked. Your relationship had never, ever been sexual. You’d always had feeling about him… But bạn thought nothing would ever happen to between us.
“You gotta do it to…” He whispers in your ear. “I don’t want it to look like I’m assaulting you. Even though I’m having fun…”
“We’ll, bạn asked for it.” bạn grinned.
bạn start moving your hips in synch, locking eyes with him, biting your lip.
bạn see the smile vượt qua, cross his face, and bạn start to laugh softly. Just for show, bạn turn around and start getting low.
“Excuse me, this dancing is starting to get out of hand.” A teacher comes over, trying to wedge between you, but decides it wouldn’t be a good idea.
Ponyboy is trying not to laugh, his face turning red. “I’ll be more… Uh less provocative.” He finally says.
“Just… Take it outside…” The teacher walks away, shaking his head.
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.
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.
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.”
“This was my mom’s,” he mutters. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will bạn marry me?”