Johnny Cade

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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 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.

I set number seventeen down.

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.

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 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.”

“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 cinta you. lebih than anda will ever know. I can’t go a hari without think about you. Not day, lebih like a minute. If I could describe how much I loved anda in word I couldn’t. Infinite doesn’t even come close. Not all. When you’re gone, I’m physically hurting. My jantung drops, my insides go all numb. I can’t think. I’m worrying about anda when you’re not with me. I couldn’t live to see anda fall without me catching you. You’re an angel, but every malaikat needs a guardian angel. That’s where I come in. I’d do anything to save you. To be with anda forever.” He gets down on one knee.

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