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SUMMARY: You've been in a long term relationship with Darry for six years and expect more from him... but will he understand your plea?
☆☆ ☆
IT'S ANOTHER LATE afternoon in the middle of July. The house foundation creaked with the settling heat as an old fan spun on overtime in the corner of the living room.
You have your longtime boyfriend, Darry, all sprawled out on the carpet. He had pulled another muscle in his back, he always did. Darry worked so hard, maybe a little too hard, you believed. But what could you do about it? He loved what he did.
You knelt down on the ridge of his back, pressed your body weight down ever so swiftly until the bone cracked beneath your knee. It was insanely satisfying as he groaned out with a mixture of pain and pleasure. You move up his back slightly and do it all over again. The release of tension from his spine was almost immediate.
He was hard headed, and liked to work hard. He roofed all day and often helped out down at the lumberyard on his days off for a little extra money.
You also didn't think he liked to have days off without some sort of physical project to be done. So he often found broken things around the house and would fix them, or build something out of old wood and spare parts. But there was always someone in town asking a favor of him. He could never say no to anyone.
After you massaged his back. Darry heads outside for a while. He could never spend much time inside the house. While he's out, you start on dinner. This afternoon, his younger brother, Ponyboy is in the kitchen.
He's sat at the breakfast table with all his text books spread out and a deep, thoughtful look on his face. You stir the sauce on the stovetop, and check if the water is boiled in the other pot.
"What's for dinner anyways?" he asked, his head coming up from the books.
"Albanian stew." you said with a serious tone, "I hope you're hungry..."
Ponyboy makes a twisted face, he tries to be polite however, he was a good kid, "Albanian stew?"
You get a little kick out of tricking him, but in all honestly, neither of you knew what Albanian stew was. You didn't even know where Albania was.
"It's spaghetti, Ponyboy." you assured him, chewing on a loose end of raw carrot.
You stared down at the stove. You hated to wait for food to cook. It was simply impatience on your part. You daydreamed that one day, someone would invent a magic cooking machine. That had food done in a few minutes. It would save you the stress everyday.
Sure, you loved to feed the three boys and often the gang, whenever they'd come over for dinner. But you really hated to wait by the hot stove, on a hot day.
All sweaty from the heat, you looked towards Ponyboy again, who was coolly leaning on the chair with a notebook full of his own scribbles and equations.
"So, smart boy, what are you working on?" you asked, leaning over his shoulder.
He rested his head in his palm, shrugged, "I have a history project on WW2..."
"Oh, that's interesting..." you sighed, you didn't know much about that subject. you were more in love with books, romance books, but never the less, romance...
"You're being sarcastic, aren't you?" he asked, an eyebrow raised up.
"Oh, Absolutely." you returned to the stove.
He rested an arm on the back of his chair, "Hey, can you do me a favor?"
"Of course, what is it?" you chimed, always ready to help out the people you loved.
"Can you maybe convince Darry to let me go skiing with Steve next week?"
"Mmm..." you wondered, waiting for him to beg for it.
"Please! You're my own hope." he urged, clasping his hands towards.
"I'll see what I can do." you winked, "But I think you can start packing your bags."
Ponyboy beamed with a smile, you always had a way to convince Darry to not be so hard on his younger brothers. You knew he didn't want to be, but felt like he had to live up to their father.
Darry was headed inside, so you tapped Ponyboy on the shoulder and told him to go wash up before dinner. He was a little confused but saw his older brother and got the memo to leave.
"Okayyyy, mom!" he joked.
As he got up and went down the hall to the bathroom, a realisation had hit you. It's been six years since you started to date Darry. You did everything a wife did for him. You cooked his breakfast and dinner. You packed his lunch. Helped his brothers. You cleaned the house. You did all the laundry AND you also worked part time at a book store in town.
You've been playing wife this entire time and haven't even got a ring to show for it.
Darry bent down to grab a beer bottle from the refrigerator. You leered at him with your arms crossed and your tongue in your cheek.
THE ENTIRE WAY through dinner, you didn't utter a word to him. Everyone sat in silence. Darry sensed after a little while that you weren't in a good mood anymore, and wondered what he had done wrong.
He came into the kitchen as you washed up. And stood there until you noticed at him.
"What is it?" he asked, genuinely confused by your behavior.
You snapped, "I do all these things for you! All these things that you know, that a wife does, and... and..." youlooked down at your feet, felt defeated even having to bring it up, "...I don't have anything to show for it."
You throw the dish towel into the sink.
Darry sighed, and moves closer to your body. You pull away slightly, but he grabs your hips, and moves them towards his pelvis, so you face him, "Look at me." he says with a serious tone, "You know that I want to make it special for you..."
He presses his lips against your forehead lightly and you almost melt into his touch, "Cause you are."
"I am what?"
"Special to me, and to the boys."
You smiled weakly, and wrap your arms around his neck, "Just promise you won't take too long."
