𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝙴𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗?

Warning-Beginning may be uncomfortable for most of you(Semi-nudity). If so, please do not proceed to read if uncomfortable. 

"Hey, Pony!"

Both Ponyboy and I turned at the sound of Sodapop's voice.

And there he was.

Fresh out of the shower. A towel wrapped low around his waist, water still clinging to his skin and dropping down his hair...

"Can you bring me my clothes? I left 'em in the room."

He looked at me. His cheeks turned pink almost instantly. He shifted, trying to pull the towel tighter while leaning against the doorframe for support.

Which, unfortunately for him, made him wobble.

Gosh.

I jerked my head away in shock. Trying to seem proper, but failing miserably.

Act normal. Act normal. Act like this never happened and do not act like it was the most shocking thing your eyes have ever witnessed.

HOW WAS I GOING TO ACT NORMAL WHEN HE WAS NAKED INFRONT OF ME FOR GOD'S SAKE

Ponyboy stiffened beside me and rushed over. "Soda! How many times have I told you to bring your clothin' with you?"

Pony disappeared down the hall, leaving me stranded in the living room with a flustered, barely-covered Sodapop hiding behind the door like the door itself might save him.

"I'm so sorry about that, Y/n," he said quickly. "I forgot you were here."

Forgot I was here?

It hadn't exactly been that long ago since he looked directly at me.

"You should listen to Pony," I managed, willing my voice not to shake. "Could save you from situations like... this."

The image was already replaying in my head.

Over. And over. And over.

Not that I was complaining.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered.

Ponyboy came back moments later, holding folded clothes. "Here. Be careful next time."

Soda nodded and slipped back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I exhaled slowly.

"I don't even know what to say," I mumbled.

Ponyboy sat down next to me with a sigh. "I'm sorry about that, Y/n. He's real clumsy."

Clumsy.

That was one word for it.

"Yeah," I said softly. "I noticed."

And I did notice.

Good lord, I noticed.

Ponyboy kept assuring me I'd be fine, like this was just some harmless accident. Maybe it was. But unless he'd ever experienced a girl dropping her towel right in front of him, I doubted he understood.

You grow up knowing what your own body looks like. That's normal.

Seeing the opposite?

That feels like someone just handed you classified information.

The door finally opened again.

Sodapop stepped out, fully dressed this time. Clean-shaven. Hair slicked back with grease, perfectly in place like nothing chaotic had happened five minutes earlier.

He looked infuriatingly composed.

As if five minutes ago he hadn't nearly sent my brain into cardiac arrest.

"Ready?"

I nodded, stepping beside him, still feeling like my brain was running on scrambled eggs.

"Be careful, you two, and have fun," Pony said, waving.

"Bye, Pony!" I called, trying to sound normal, though my heart was racing.

"Sorry 'bout what happened..." Sodapop muttered again.

"Oh, it's alright... I know it was an accident," I said, forcing calm into my voice.

He grinned sheepishly and held the gate open for me. "Still, shouldn't had happened."

"So... where we meetin' Steve?"

He hummed. "Said in the DX."

Walking down the streets with Sodapop beside me felt surreal. Like walking beside a celebrity. Girls whispered, nudged each other, and glanced at him like he was some kind of rare candy.

Then I realized—they weren't just looking at him. They were looking at us. At me.

They whispered, pointed, and eyed me like I was the newest contestant on some weird reality show.

Sodapop leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, and suddenly I could hear their jealous little whines. My ears burned. My face? A bright tomato red. What was the kiss for?-

"-How lucky!" a blonde hissed.

"Really? He's dating her out of anyone?"

Dating?

My stomach twisted. Not at him—at them. I wasn't used to this kind of offense. Usually it came from Bob, which was... exhausting for my self-esteem.

Sodapop's finger lifted my chin, tilting my face to his. "Hey, Y/n. Don't worry about them. Ignore 'em. They're just jealous because you're pretty and sweet—something they'll never be."

I couldn't help the pink flooding my cheeks. "Thanks, Soda."

The girls glared. I didn't care. I did exactly what he said—ignored them. Besides... how often do you see girls jealous of you? Not always.

(Author's note: Sorry if it's too sudden. I want tension, besides this story had to be corrected because I wrote it two years ago :) )