te had just moved to Tulsa,Oklahoma. It was your first giorno of school and te didn't know anybody at all. Luckily te are pretty smart and got to go to the higher level classes. te walk into the school and go to get your schedule. There's a huge crowd of students and it's hard to get through. te bump in to someone and drop all the libri te had in your hands. Some kid says "Oh gosh, i'm sorry...let me help you" Your eyes meet and te dose off and i'll te can think about is how handsome this kid is. te stand up and he hands te the libri te say "Thanks, I'm Brianna...I'm new here" he says "That's a cute name, I'm PonyBoy." te smile and say "Thanks, te got a pretty unique name yourself" He blushes and says "Here i'll take te to class to make up for dropping your books." "You don't have to, really" "No it's ok, I want to." te smile and both of te walk off to get your schedules. He grabs your hand and walks te to class. He then says goodbye and gives te a quick baciare on the cheek.
~~~~ The end ~~~~
~~~~ The end ~~~~
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 te and Mom meet?” The 12 anno old asked.
“I bet it was an epic Amore story.” Eight anno old Rhett says sarcastically.
“Was Mommy pretty when te 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 te a lot.” (Y/N) grinned from the doorway.
Seventeen.
Seventeen bottles of birra I have drunk in the past 37 minutes.
Seventeen.
I pick up number eighteen, twist the berretto, tappo off, and pour it down my throat. It’s tasteless.
I lean my head back against the bacheca 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 Amore 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 Amore you.” I blurt out.
She looks surprised for a second. But then she grins.
“I Amore te too.”
“This was my mom’s,” he mutters. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will te marry me?”