anda woke up selanjutnya to anda boyfriend Dally. anda fell asleep oleh him last night. anda two had thrown a party last night for your friends birthday. anda walked down stairs to make breakfast. anda were making eggs as anda felt something around your waist. "Hey baby" Dally berkata and put his head on your back. "Hey Dal" anda said. He walked to the dapur meja and waited for the breakfast. anda put it on the meja and watched Dally eat it. anda sat down and ate with him. After anda ate anda did the dishes cause anda knew Dally wasn't going to. "Hey babe what do anda want to do today?" "I don't know" anda berkata and turned around and looked at him. He put his arms on both sides of anda and put his forehead against yours. "We could have some fun in the bedroom if ya know what I mean" he berkata and kissed you. "No Dal" anda berkata and pushed him away. "Babe" he berkata as anda walked away and he grabbed your hand. "Dal anda know I'm way younger than you" anda said. "So" he berkata and shrugged his shoulders. "You know I hate to think about it" anda berkata and crossed your arms. "Please just this once?" anda hesitated before answering. "Fine Dal just this once" anda berkata as he picked anda up and carried anda to his room. That hari the two of anda didn't come out of his room for a long time.
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 anda and Mom meet?” The 12 tahun old asked.
“I bet it was an epic cinta story.” Eight tahun old Rhett says sarcastically.
“Was Mommy pretty when anda 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 anda a lot.” (Y/N) grinned from the doorway.
Seventeen.
Seventeen bottles of bir I have drunk in the past 37 minutes.
Seventeen.
I pick up number eighteen, twist the topi off, and pour it down my throat. It’s tasteless.
I lean my head back against the dinding 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 cinta 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 cinta you.” I blurt out.
She looks surprised for a second. But then she grins.
“I cinta anda too.”
“This was my mom’s,” he mutters. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will anda marry me?”