The Outsiders Imagines

Pony (9)

Yall are like 16 in this 

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The light broke through the blinds in shards, lighting up Pony's coffee-brown hair. His lanky arms were wrapped around your middle, his chest pressed to your back and it seemed like the perfect Sunday morning...except for the fact that it was 6 in the morning and you were awake. You rolled over gingerly, you now facing Pony, in an attempt to fall back asleep. Of course, it failed. You ended up watching the light bounce of Pony's hair, watching rise and fall. He looked peaceful when he slept, like he hadn't been through continuous tragedies in the past. 

"You're staring, babe," he rasped. 

His lanky arms pulled you closer to him and his fingertips brushed your hair. 

"I was doing nothing of the sorts," you replied. He only grumbled in response. 

"Why are you awake?" 

"Couldn't go back to sleep," you reply with a shrug. He nods. 

"Then its time to wake up, isn't it?" 

You shook your head frantically, a world of guilt coming over you. You noticed and appreciated how Pony worked so hard everyday, you waking him up only seemed to make matters worse on you. He chuckled and shook his head, pulling you from the bed. He lead you to the window-side bed ( you know those things ??? I don't know what they're called my apologies ). He sat behind you, his arms enveloping you, his scent engulfing you, his love forever present. You two sat like that for the rest of the morning, falling in and out of peaceful sleeps, watching the morning sky and just being together. 

Oh, what a peaceful Sunday