Sodapop x Reader
“When you’re looking at those strangers, I hope to God you see my face.”
(It’s about time I pick this blog back up. This lyric was too good to not use. I hope you all enjoy.)
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“I’ll have a popcorn and pop, please.”
Your friend Bailey nudged you and raised an eyebrow. “Pop? We’re in Oklahoma, Y/N, not the midwest. Call it soda like the rest of us.”
Despite you two being in the same grade since elementary school, you hadn’t exactly noticed Bailey until you both wound up taking an anatomy class in your senior year. Therefore you couldn’t chide your friend for not knowing how arduous your breakup with Sodapop Curtis had been.
“Alright, alright. Just a popcorn and soda, please,” you chuckled.
The concession booth at the movie theater wasn’t too busy. It was a Tuesday night, bleak and snowy outside, but warm and cozy inside the building. There was a line of people filing into the auditorium your movie was showing in, so you and Bailey stepped into the path.
You had finished all the homework you were capable of completing that afternoon, so when Bailey called and asked if you were down for seeing a movie, you agreed on a dime. For the past couple of weeks you had been shrouded from the world, immersing yourself in academic studies and hobbies that required your full attention. Thinking proved to be too painful lately. Your thoughts always trailed back to Sodapop.
Rather than escaping to the movies to evade what you had been avoiding, your inability to properly function was suddenly staring you dead in the eyes. A heartbeat of realization struck, and you couldn’t seem to find your breath. You tapped Bailey’s shoulder, still staring in Sodapop’s direction. He was already making his way over to you.
“Here, take this.” You handed Bailey your soda and popcorn, willing yourself to force a smile. “I’ll be right back.” Bailey frowned, but ultimately the line shuffled forwards and everyone, including Bailey, receded into the theatre.
“Y/N,” Soda called as he approached you. Feverishness didn’t seem to be striking him the way it was striking you. Red had begun staining your cheeks, you could tell by the warmth that radiated from your face.
“Hey,” you said as you met him. The two of you were posed beside the doorway to the auditorium that your movie was playing in. “You got work off today?”
Soda scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Me and some of the guys wanted to catch a film.” There was a pause as he diverted his gaze back to yours. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Likewise,” you responded softly.
A barrier was evident between you and Soda. That was the case after any breakup a couple suffered, but it had never been so painful for you. The two of you could barely look at each other.
“How have you been?” Soda asked, trying to clear his voice of the awkwardness that glinted in it.
“I’ve been fine. How are you, Soda?”
Hearing his name made Sodapop peer at you again. His expression softened. It flickered to the affectionate visage he used to regard you with, but then it was gone.
“I’m . . . fine, too.”
The auditorium began to boom with sound. Your movie was beginning to play, but both you and Soda ignored this.
“I, uh, I miss you, Y/N,” Soda vented.
You didn’t say anything. Making the choice not to speak was just. Fervid words were not worth breaking down and telling him the things that had been echoing on a loop inside your mind since you’d said goodbye.
“I know you probably don’t feel the same. You were the one who broke up with me.” There was a sharp inhale and Soda looked at you with wide, apologetic eyes. “I don’t mean to blame you, I’m just saying - I hope you’re doing well, Y/N. I really do.”
“I miss you too, Soda,” you whispered.
He had to lean in closer to hear you. When he pinpointed what you’d said, a smile started framing his lips. But he didn’t know what else to say. Limitless silence stretched between you two for countless seconds. Soon he crammed his hands in his pockets and let his head bow.
“It’s not the same without you. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I can’t help it. We weren’t even an item for that long.” He looked at you and laughed sadly. At this point he was merely thinking aloud, but he couldn’t stop now. “This ain’t a love story, I know that.” He pointed to the building array of people purchasing movie stubs at the ticket booth. “But when you’re looking at those strangers, I hope to God you see my face.”
“Soda . . .” you murmured. He avoided your gaze. You reached up to touch his cheek.
Stubble was stemming along his jawline. The light in his eyes had been waning for the past few weeks and his lips were chapped. He wasn’t doing good. Was that your fault?
You shook your head, letting your fingers trail over his cheek. He seemed to stiffen and unwind all at the same time under your touch. His eyelids fell and a reticent breath left him. Though he didn’t move any closer.
“I miss you, that’s all I know.”
You nodded your head. You couldn’t tell him that you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t tell him what you wanted to do. It would break him even more. So you stayed silent. And eventually let your hand fall.
Through unyielding stillness, you knew enough time had lapsed. Wordlessly, you two gazed at each other one last time. Soda offered a regretful smile, which you returned.
“I’d better get back to the guys,” he said, stepping backward.
“I should get to the movie,” you agreed.
You had to tread in his direction to open the door your theater. Soda didn’t shy away. He simply smiled at you one last time, waiting, anticipating your next move. You swung the door open and wandered into the darkness, knowing Soda’s dejected expression would be the only thing on your mind until you fell into sleep that night.