Ponyboyâs Perspective
âDad?â
âYeah, Scar?â I say, looking away from the football game I was watching. I was holding Ella, she was 4 months old now.
âHow did u and Mom meet?â The 12 jaar old asked.
âI bet it was an epic love story.â Eight jaar old Rhett says sarcastically.
âWas Mommy pretty when u met her?â Charlie, who was five now, asked.
âThe prettiest girl Iâd ever seen.â I smiled down at him. âUntil Scar and Ella came along. Now I know the three prettiest girls in the world. Anyways, thereâs not much to tell. I saw her one day, and I fell in love. I thought she didnât like meâŠâ
âNah, I like u a lot.â (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. Itâs tasteless.
I lean my head back against the uithangbord from where I sit on the floor of my basement.
I see a football. Dannyâs football. It used to be Dannyâs football. Now itâs 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 didnât 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)âs old dolls, something we thought we could use for our little girl someday.
But thatâs 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.
â(Y/N)?â I ask as I grab her hand.
âYeah?â She turns to face me.
âI-I thinkâŠâ I start.
âJust say it,â she smiles.
âI love you.â I blurt out.
She looks surprised for a second. But then she grins.
âI love u too.â
âThis was my momâs,â he mutters. â(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will u marry me?â