u looked around to find the teacher. She was at the front of he class room. "Um. I got sent in here cause I got into trouble" u zei standing at the door. "Okay u can go sit at the back of the room" she zei pointing to a desk. u walked back there as Ponyboy was back there. Fuck u thought to yourself. u looked at him and smiled. He smiled back as u got butterfly's in your stomach. u sat down as u wrote. Only cause the teacher was making u write about what u did. After class u walked back to your classroom to return the paper. u walked back out and to your locker to get your stuff. u walked out of the school. u walked alone cause your vrienden left you. u looked down at the ground. Someone knocked into you. u looked up to see it was Ponyboy. "Sorry my.... Friend pushed me into you" he said. u looked at Two-but who was laughing. "It's fine" u said. "Okay are u sure?" "Yeah it's totally okay" u zei as u looked into his perfect green eyes. "Okay sorry again" he zei and walked away.
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 u and Mom meet?” The 12 jaar old asked.
“I bet it was an epic love story.” Eight jaar old Rhett says sarcastically.
“Was Mommy pretty when u 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 u a lot.” (Y/N) grinned from the doorway.
Seventeen.
Seventeen bottles of bier I have drunk in the past 37 minutes.
Seventeen.
I pick up number eighteen, twist the pet, glb off, and pour it down my throat. It’s tasteless.
I lean my head back against the uithangbord 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 love 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 love you.” I blurt out.
She looks surprised for a second. But then she grins.
“I love u too.”
“This was my mom’s,” he mutters. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will u marry me?”