fluff #15 for sodapop please? but she says it to him?â¤
aww yay I havenât written for my baby soda in a wee bit. I hope you enjoy lovey đđ
Today had been an extraordinarily long day. But then again, everyday since Sodapop dropped out had been extraordinarily long. It was just one of those days, where you just felt like you were buzzing through thing after thing without a care. There was only one thing you actually cared to do, though. Which was visiting Soda after work.
So when school got out, you hurried towards your locker, shoving things in and taking other things out. You pulled your jacket on, (which was actually one of Sodaâs that you stole) and headed on your way to the DX. You couldnât seem to move fast enough. You were just in such a need to just be held, and you knew that Soda would gladly agree to holding you.
As the DX came into view, you wrapped your arms around your torso in an attempt to warm yourself up. You sped up a bit, and the closer you got, you soon saw that Soda wasnât outside like he usually was. It was just Steve.
âMaybe heâs inside.â You thought, and soon Steve took notice to you approaching him. He wiped his hands on an old rag, stuffing it in his pocket as he leaned against the hood of whoeverâs car he had been working on.
âIs Soda inside?â You questioned, tucking your hair behind your ear to stop it from blowing into your face. Steve shook his head.
âWent home, said he wasnât feelinâ too hot,â he sighed, âstrange - 'cause I know he could sure use the extra dough. I woulda gone with him, but hell, everyone knows Iâm broke as is. Ainât able to miss work now.â
You pursed your lips, biting on your bottom one as you began thinking. Soda seemed fine when you saw him earlier today, so maybe he just got a little cold or something?
âGuess Iâd better go check on him,â you smiled sadly, âthanks Steve.â
Steve sat up from the hood of the car and turned to grab a car part off the ground. â 'Course. Give Soda my best, tell him Iâll call 'em when I get off.â
You nodded, flashing Steve a smile before turning on your heel and heading to the Curtis house. As you walked, questions flooded your head. It wasnât like Soda to leave work like that, especially when he needs the money as Steve had said. Plus, usually heâd tell you beforehand so you know. But he didnât, and here you were, worrying like there werenât bigger things to be worryinâ about. But Soda was the most important thing in your life. How could you not worry?
About fifteen minutes later and you found yourself st the gate of the Curtis house. Darry was walking out the front door as you opened the gate. He smiled as he saw you, but you could tell it was more of a 'He needs you.â smile than anything.
âHey Y/n, Iâm headinâ to the store. Keep an eye on them for me, would ya?â Darry stopped you half way to the porch. You knew he was referring to Ponyboy and Soda. Not like they really needed much watching, they were both pretty good about this kind of thing.
âSure thing, Darry. See ya.â You beamed, stepping past him and onto the front porch. You listened as Darry hopped in the truck and drove off before opening up the front door.
There on the couch sat Ponyboy, flipping through some book. He turned to look at you after hearing the door shut.
You ran a hand through your hair as you spoke, âHey Pony, is Soda here?â
Ponyboy nodded, lifting his eyebrows. âYeah, heâs in our room. Donât know whatâs got him all sulky like, but heâs just sittin in there doinâ nothinâ.â
Your smile dropped, concern running through your mind and showing through your features. âDoes this happen a lot?â
Ponyboy shrugged. âSometimes. Never know why, though. Usually he wonât talk to me or Darry about it.â
You nodded solemnly, muttering a quick thanks to Pony before heading down the hallway and stopping in front of the bedroom door. You pressed your ear to the door, but heard nothing. So you knocked, softly at first and waited for a response. Nothing.
After a few more seconds of no reply, you twisted the cold door knob, pushing the wood door open into a darkened room - only a lamp by the bedside was on. Light from the hallway flooded in in a single bold stroke, landing directly where Soda lay on the worn mattress. You titled your head to the side, watching as Soda sat up, rubbing his eyes with a sigh.
âSorry if I woke you.â You whispered, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. The room was once again nearly completely dark, with the exception of the yellow lamp light that illuminated you and Sodaâs faces.
Soda sat up, his hair a mess and his eyes droopy and glassy. âItâs alright. Wasnât sleepinâ too good anyways.â You could tell by the hoarse and scratchiness of his voice that he was both upset and tired.
Slowly, you made your way to the bed, taking of your shoes before sitting with your legs folded across from Soda. He looked down at his lap, playing with the hem of his white tee shirt between his fingers. You looked straight at him, your eyebrows pressed together in concern.
âWhat happened today? Steve told me you werenât feelinâ too hot.â Sodaâs shoulders tensed as you said this, and you realized automatically that this was lore than just physical. It was something mental.
âI dunno,â he whispered, avoiding your gaze, âguess Iâve just kinda had it.â His voice was gentle, and you felt as though you needed to meet his tone in order to get through to him properly. So thatâs what you did.
âHad it with what?â You spoke softly, Soda meeting your eyes for a mere second before batting his back down to his hands.
âMe,â his voice cracked slightly, âcarinâ so much. About how people think of me - about how I care about other people. Some of 'em donât even care about me, yet I still care about them, and I wish I didnât.â
You frowned, grabbing Sodaâs hand gently as he wiped his eyes with the other one. Youâd seen Soda cry a few times before - but never like this. It was never because he hated something about himself, and for sure not because he hated himself for caring so much. You said nothing, deciding it was best to let Soda talk and get everything out that he needed to.
âPeople think Iâm soft or somethinâ cause I care. And I dunno, but just knowinâ that some of the people I care about dont care about me, it makes me wanna not care at all. It makes me hate that I care. I hate it, I really do. Itâs dumb, I know.â
Soda stopped, sniffling softly. You decided now was a good time to step in.
âI donât know what happened to trigger this, and you donât gotta tell me, but I do know that Iâll never understand how you can hate that about yourself. Itâs one of my favorite things about you.â You smiled sadly, tilting your head down to meet Sodaâs eyes before continuing, âhell, if you didnât care so much I donât know what Iâd do. Youâre so sweet and understanding - all because you care. And yeah, I know that sometimes caring about people can hurt, but I promise you, no matter what, Iâll always care about you. Just as long as you promise never to lose that part of you that cares so much.â
Sodaâs eyes finally met yours. They were red from crying, but beautiful and captivating as they always had been. He laughed sadly, lifting your interlaced fingers and bringing them to his lips, kissing them softly before bringing them back down.
You smiled as he said this, pulling him into you. You gently kissed his cheek before resting your chin on his shoulder, cradling the nape of his neck. You placed a hand on his heart, feeling his heartbeat immediately comforting you.
Soda lay back down pulling you down onto his chest and covering you with some of the blanket. He wrapped his arms around you, and there the two of you lay, utterly and completely open and caring foreachother - until the two of you drifted to sleep in each otherâs arms. There was no way youâd rather have it.
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