Dying Kiss (Steve Randle x Reader)

Chapter 17

Over 700 reads. Wow. Tysm. If I wasn't man enough, I would be crying rn. My goals are slowly being reached. -OrangePeelings (Sadly, still living)
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Your P.O.V
There was no emptiness between the kiss, just pure love. Emotions combined. I finally pulled away, not wanting to leave, but I was slowly losing my breath. Steve's lips looked purple, stained with little bite marks and indents.

As much as this meant to me, I still couldn't get over the fact that he kissed me first. My eyes scanned over his unidentifiable expression, his grip releasing my waist, and his strength gathering up into his balled up fists. He was trying so hard not to kiss me, I could tell. My breath hogged the air as Steve took steady breaths in, then out, his chest rising in rhythm.

His eyes glanced around the room, mine not peeling off of him. He suddenly met eyes with me, getting into full contact, containing every word he was about to spill from his indented lips. My heart bounced up a little as we made contact, my eyes staining his with perfection. I couldn't hold back the smile that was curving at my lips.

Steve looked at my smile, bringing his eyes back up to mine as a smile courageously left his lips, angling them upwards. He looked so happy, and it was taking me every single instinct I had to not get my camera and capture this beautiful moment that would forever stain my memories in joy.

Johnny's P.O.V
My senses had finally come back, and I was back to being me, even without Ponyboy. I had to block out the idea that he was no longer with me, and so I did, doing everything I could to secure the troubling idea in a box to be hopefully forgotten.

I grasped the knife, watching as the Socs drove past. I couldn't handle it anymore, and my number one instinct was to chase after them. I gave them a good old stare before releasing them from my eyesight as they drove off. They'd driven me mad, just thinking about what they did.

I hadn't seen Cherry in a while, but she had clearly heard the news, seeming as devastated as I did that such a beautiful human being has left this world of cruelty that nobody understands. My eyes jumbled across the room, locking onto Soda, his hands trembling and clenched together, sweat dribbling down his heated forehead.

I felt bad for him, as did he for me. Ponyboy was the closest friend I had, and I couldn't even explain how hard it was to pass the test of truthfulness. Truth is that he was gone, but I couldn't even believe it anymore, telling myself simple lies that could damn me to Hell right there and then if being spoken aloud.

Soda finally met my gaze after feeling the burning sensation of eyes watching him. His smile was crookedly formed upwards, and his cheeks were stained red with tears. Why couldn't we get over the fact that he was gone? This question bounced around in my head, reaching every crook it could until it filled my mind with many conclusions.

We're just too devastated to forget, we've lost too many things in our lives, the truth couldn't pass us, our minds are too jumbled up. Conclusions, conclusions, so many of them that never ended. I don't know if any of the others are dealing with the whole situation like I am, but I hope to God that they aren't.

I had gripped onto the fact that Ponyboy was dead, and it never left me yet.
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How are you gonna eat your pudding if you haven't finished your meat?