आप curled up अगला to Dally. He wrapped an arm around आप lazily and rested his head on your shoulder. "Hey." He muttered. His sleepy voice was too cute. "Go back to sleep." आप whispered. "I don't want to." He said. He sounded tired and it made आप feel bad for waking him up. "You're tired." आप said. Dallas sat up and looked at the clock on the nightstand. "It's only one." He कहा like it was no big deal. "Only?" आप कहा letting out a laugh. Dallas nodded and smiled at you. His tired smile was adorable and sexy at the same time. "I don't want to go to sleep now. Why are आप here anyway?" He asked. "I just had a bad dream." आप said. "Well whatever it was can't hurt आप now." He कहा as he laid back down. He rested his head on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around आप securely. "I प्यार you." आप whispered. "I know and I प्यार आप to." He said. आप could practically hear the smirk on his face. आप let out a small laugh. "Why are laughing?" he asked. "I dont know." आप said. Dallas nuzzed a little closer to you. Dallas was about to say something, but he stopped because आप fell asleep. He kissed your forehead and then went to sleep himself.
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 आप and Mom meet?” The 12 साल old asked.
“I bet it was an epic प्यार story.” Eight साल old Rhett says sarcastically.
“Was Mommy pretty when आप 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 आप a lot.” (Y/N) grinned from the doorway.
Seventeen.
Seventeen bottles of बीयर, बियर I have drunk in the past 37 minutes.
Seventeen.
I pick up number eighteen, twist the टोपी off, and pour it down my throat. It’s tasteless.
I lean my head back against the दीवार 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 प्यार 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 प्यार you.” I blurt out.
She looks surprised for a second. But then she grins.
“I प्यार आप too.”
“This was my mom’s,” he mutters. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will आप marry me?”