"No don't kill him! He's pretty!" bạn shouted at the TV screen. Ponyboy laughed at you. bạn smiled at him. He didn't mind bạn had the biggest crush on the actor. He knew bạn loved him. "No! No! No! Are bạn kidding me?! Why would he go in the door?!" bạn said. bạn got up mad at the movie. Ponyboy watched as bạn got up and walked into the kitchen. "Hey babe, what are bạn doing?" ngựa con, ngựa, pony called. "He was too pretty to die! It's not fair! Life isn't fair! I don't like it!" bạn đã đưa ý kiến as bạn opened the fridge. ngựa con, ngựa, pony made his way into the phòng bếp, nhà bếp with you. "Is he as pretty as me?" He asked winking. "No.... But he was pretty." bạn huffed. Ponyboy laughed and walked over to you. He snaked his arms around your waist and kissed your lips lightly. bạn smiled and placed your hands lightly on his shoulders. bạn leaned in slightly and met his lips. The Kiss was passionate and loving. When ngựa con, ngựa, pony pulled away he smiled. "You still mad he died?" He asked. bạn scrunched up your nose making ngựa con, ngựa, pony chuckled. "I have you. You're prettier than Jenson Ackles." bạn said. ngựa con, ngựa, pony smiled and leaned in for another kiss. He was the only one bạn needed and the only one bạn would ever need. He was your night in shining armor.
The Outsiders is all about two gangs.The greasers and the socs.In the book the greasers are located on the east side of town and the socs are located on the south side of town.Some of the greasers are Ponyboy,Johnny,Dally,Darry,Steve,Sodapop,and Kieth(aka Two-Bit).Some of the socs names are Randy,Bob,and Cherry.Even though some of us don't like them I still have to put them in.It is a really good movie and book.this book has happy parts and sad parts,but,we all just have to get through it together.Like when Johnny kills Bob.Thats a happy part.the sad parts are when Johnny and Dally die.well that is all about the outsiders to learn thêm read the book and watch the movie.
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?”