Sunsets and the Stars // Johnny x Ponyboy

Chapter Twenty Nine // Open Letter

I woke up from a nap at about 6:09 in the evening. I stretched, feeling tension in my muscles.

My vision was still a bit blurry, so I tried to blink and rub my eyes. Everything began to get clearer.

There was a weird atmosphere in the room, but it didn't feel negative. I began to look around, when my eyes landed on something.

On the night stand by the bed, there was a bundle of tulips, and a note.

I picked the flowers up, and laid them on my lap. I began to pick at the petals.

There were four flowers. One was red, one was yellow, one was white, and one was multi colored. I admired them.
I hadn't seen any tulips in a long while. I think the last time I saw a few was at a park with Johnny a while back.

Curiosity took me out of my thoughts. I picked up the paper that was laying on the table.

At first glance, I could tell that the letter was well executed. The paper was clearly expensive. It was clean and crisp. I loved to draw on paper like that. The writing was written in silver pen, which was reflective when the light hit it.

I decided that it would be a good idea to finally read the letter, and understand what was going on.

I looked at the title of the letter, and was immediately taken aback.

"To The Love Of My World" it read. I felt heat in my cheaks. The title was complex yet simple at the same time.

"Dear Ponyboy," it read. Whoever was writing it didn't call me Pony like most people usually did.

I continued to read.

"It would be wrong of me to say that you don't mean the world to me, because that is a lie.You mean everything to me, even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes," I gasped out if flattery. Who did I mean that much to?

"I'm hopelessly in love with you, and I wouldn't have it any way. I'm just sorry I didn't admit it sooner, and that I tried to hide from it," the next paragraph read. It was just as sweet as the first one.

Oh my god, was it Steve who wrote this? I asked myself.

I secretly hoped it wasn't.

"You once told me your favorite flowers were tulips because they represent love," I read. Who did I tell about my love for tulips?

"I love you," it read next. That part was written with a thicker pen, maybe a marker to make it stand out.

There was only one person I wanted to here that from.

"I always have, and I always will."

"Red symbolizes true love, and you're mine. You've always been mine.

Yellow represents cheerfulness and sunshine, and when you're around, I'm the happiest I've ever been. You make me feel joy. You brought happiness into my life, something I thought was impossible.

White represents forgiveness, and I forgive you for being mad at me, and for trying to be with someone else. It's okay, I understand now. I just hope you can forgive me," it read. The dots started to connect in my head, but there were still some blank spots.

"Lastly, a multicolored tulip. You said that multicolored tulips meant beautiful eyes. Well, even though you might not be too fond of yours, I love them. Green was never my favorite color, until I looked into your eyes," read the next paragraph. The part about my eyes made me tear up. I always wanted different eyes, yet this person told me that they loved them.

I suddely gasped. I remembered who I told about the tulips.

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis, I love you with all my heart, and everything I have.

Will you be my boyfriend?" When I read the last few sentences, I was sobbing from happiness and disbelief.

Assuming I was right about my theory, the only person I wanted in the world wanted me.

The only person I truly loved was asking me to be his boyfriend.

Johnny Cade.

I felt a heat in my stomach that I had never felt before. It felt surreal.

For a moment, I forgot about everything.

I forgot about how good it felt when he first kissed me, and I forgot how badly it hurt when he tried to take it back.

I forgot about Angela Sheppard, and the terror I felt when I thought about her being with Johnny.

I forgot about Sodapop disowning the feelings I had for Johnny, and how terrible he made me feel about myself.

I forgot about Sodapop's broken nose that Johnny gave him, and how he was in the hospital.

I forgot about Johnny's seizure, and how I thought he was going to die right before my eyes. I forgot the pain of almost loosing him forever.

I forgot about Steve. I forgot about our dates and his kindness and support. He was in the back of my mind.

Most importantly, I forgot why I was sitting in this bed. I forgot that I had gotten shot, coming close to death without being happy. Without feeling loved by the person I loved most.

Maybe, just maybe, I should be thinking about those things instead of focusing on the happiness I felt right now. But I didn't.

I couldn't get him out of my head.

I thought about his beautiful, caramel colored skin that had a scar on his cheek. I thought about his black eyes that might then amber if he was happy, or if the sun hit them correctly. I thought about his pink lips, and how plump and kissable they looked. I thought about his button nose, and how I wanted to boop it. I thought about his black hair that I wanted to run my hands though. Most of all, I wanted to hear him speak Italian to me. It was hot yet adorable at the same time.

He was like an unhealthy drug that I couldn't get an endless supply of.

"I love you too, Jonathan Cade," I whispered.

I just wished he was here to hear me.