“Ponyboy, why are anda so-“
“I don’t like the way he looked at you.” He says as he puts his wallet in the nightstand.
anda had gone out to bar, just to have a good time on a Friday night. anda saw an old friend from your hometown and got to talking. anda didn’t think anything really happened.
“Ponyboy, nothing-”
“You know what he was thinking. I mean, in that dress…” He says, eyes going over you. anda were wearing a tight black mini dress and heels.
“I don’t look that-“
“Yes anda do. anda look beautiful… And I know it’s wrong but fucking sexy.” He says, looking anda dead in the eye.
“Well, it’s not my fault what he thinks.”
“I just hope your smart enough not to fool around atau anything.” He shoots back at you.
anda chew anda on your lip, not knowing what to say.
He walks over to anda from across the bedroom.
“You’re jealous.” anda finally mutter.
“Yeah, I am. I want to be the only one able to look at anda like that.”
Before anda know it, your pushed up against the wall, tongues battling it out. anda start unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off. He unzips your dress, pulling it over your head. His strong hands grab your hips, spinning anda around, and throws anda on the bed.
He bites, his lip, eyes looking anda up and down.
“You wanna fuck me?” anda tease, raising your eyebrows, smirk on your face
He doesn’t answer, just undoes his tali pinggang and slips off his jeans.
He gets on bahagian, atas of you, hungrily Ciuman you, reaching under anda to unclasp your bra, pulling it off, and tossing it across the room.
He leaves a trail of kisses from your neck, all the way down to edge of your panties.
He pulls them down with his teeth, to your knees. He trails his tongue up your thigh…
“I don’t like the way he looked at you.” He says as he puts his wallet in the nightstand.
anda had gone out to bar, just to have a good time on a Friday night. anda saw an old friend from your hometown and got to talking. anda didn’t think anything really happened.
“Ponyboy, nothing-”
“You know what he was thinking. I mean, in that dress…” He says, eyes going over you. anda were wearing a tight black mini dress and heels.
“I don’t look that-“
“Yes anda do. anda look beautiful… And I know it’s wrong but fucking sexy.” He says, looking anda dead in the eye.
“Well, it’s not my fault what he thinks.”
“I just hope your smart enough not to fool around atau anything.” He shoots back at you.
anda chew anda on your lip, not knowing what to say.
He walks over to anda from across the bedroom.
“You’re jealous.” anda finally mutter.
“Yeah, I am. I want to be the only one able to look at anda like that.”
Before anda know it, your pushed up against the wall, tongues battling it out. anda start unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off. He unzips your dress, pulling it over your head. His strong hands grab your hips, spinning anda around, and throws anda on the bed.
He bites, his lip, eyes looking anda up and down.
“You wanna fuck me?” anda tease, raising your eyebrows, smirk on your face
He doesn’t answer, just undoes his tali pinggang and slips off his jeans.
He gets on bahagian, atas of you, hungrily Ciuman you, reaching under anda to unclasp your bra, pulling it off, and tossing it across the room.
He leaves a trail of kisses from your neck, all the way down to edge of your panties.
He pulls them down with his teeth, to your knees. He trails his tongue up your thigh…
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, cap 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?”