The Outsiders Imagines

Steve (5)

 As he came into the window

It was the sound of a crescendo  

"Shh, Steve," You half-giggled, pulling him through your window. 

"You need a bigger window," Steve huffed, plopping onto the floor. 

                     It was currently 3 in the morning on a school night as your boyfriend was climbing through your window. As he sat up on his elbows he flashed you a devilish grin that could make the world stop spinning, but you only shot him a playful glare. He pouted and you giggled in a hushed manor. 

"You're so loud," you complained to him as he got of the ground. 

"I'm sorry your floors are creaky," He shot back with a sigh. 

"I hear excuses," You sassed and he chuckled, his arms wrapping around you. 

"I hear someone trying to pick a fight," He chuckled, his hands grazing my hands. 

                      I shot him a look that screamed to not do it, but he did. One hand met my mouth as he tickled my side. I flopped onto the bed restlessly, my hands pushing at his, but as the bed springs creaked loudly he stopped, suddenly nervous. 

"You scared, Randle?" I teased and he rolled his eyes.  

                       Everything seemed fine. We were happy. He was happy. We were the kind of couple that people stopped to stare at on the street. The kind that radiated their love to everyone they met in a happy-go-lucky way. He was always there for me and I was always there for him, or so I thought. Everything seemed fine. 

                      I was madly in love with Steve Randle. The way his hands curved around callouses and the way sweat glistened off of his toned arms in the hot, Summer heat or the way he smirked mischievously as a thought came to mind. I was in love with how he leaned against my locker, sweet talking me as if he wasn't already dating me. 

  He came into her apartment

He left the bloodstains on the carpet  

                      A knock on the door distracted me from my calculus homework that I had been working on for two hours. I huffed and pushed myself off of the couch with whatever ache of energy I had left and pried the door open. There stood Steve, his jaws clenched tightly and his hands shoved into his pockets. 

"Hey?" I questioned with a suspicious eye. 

"Are you that dumb?" He gritted through teeth

"What the hell are you talking about, Randle?" I asked, pushing his last name out unpleasantly, as if it left a sour taste in my mouth. 

                  He just pushed past him, his feet stomping as he did and I was praying that my dad wouldn't be home for awhile. If he saw Steve like this there would be some problems that would involve a few punches. I pushed my tongue to the roof of my mouth nervously, as if I was hiding something or trying to get away with something. 

"Do you not realize the obvious, idiot?" He yelled, throwing his hands into the air. 

"Idiot? Idiot! I'm the idiot! I'm not the one who won't just tell  their girlfriend what the hell they need so she can go back to homework, because she actually tries at school!" I yelled back. 

                            Sure, Steve and I fought, but it was usually about something stupid and it lasted all of five minutes. It was usually my fault anyway, telling him he needed to hurry up or that he was being too loud while we were talking. I never saw him this mad, or even close to it. That's when I saw it. The hickey. I sure as hell didn't leave a hickey on the side of his neck.