You glumly walk into the house after a long day. You were stuck all day at your aunt'd funeral; the aunt that basically raised you. You and her were so close, she made you to open up when nobody else could. You told her everything: you're first crush, your first kiss, your first date with your boyfriend of six-months, Sodapop. You even told her that you were in love with Soda, which he then told you he did too. She was there for you when your ex-boyfriend broke your heart, and was there for you to rant about school or about people in general. You kick off your shoes, and put the stuff you were carrying on the coffee table.
"Are you okay Y/N?" Sodapop asks concernedly, coming out from his room.
Sodapop wasn't with me all day; he couldn't get off work. It was okay with you though, I always liked to be alone when I'm sad. Or, brush my tears off. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" I ask him, my lace laced with fake-casualness.
While attempting to mask your pain in front of him, a few tears slip from your eyes. You turn quickly, wiping them off, and walk into the kitchen.
"You're not okay." He points out, gently places his hand on my shoulder.
"I'm trying to be strong." I tell him. My voice cracks unintentionally as my tears become more than just the few specks they were. You turn towards him when he gently pushes your shoulder, as if to tell you to look at him.
He sighs almost silently, and pulls me close to him. I breath in the smell of him, and choke out a sob. We sway as he gently strokes the ends of my hair, shushing me. He tells me, "You don't always have to be so strong?"
"Then who will be?" Is all you could get out between the quieted weeps.
He pulls my shoulders back, looking at my eyes, his face laced with sadness. He tells me what I need to hear, "I will be strong for you, always. I'll always be here for you Y/N, whenever you need me."
He cuddles me again, and I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat over my now loud sobs. He was honestly the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.
