whispers // sodapop curtis imagine
pairing: sodapop x female!reader
notes: this is partially inspired by First Burn from Hamilton ! If you haven’t listened to it, I highly recommend you do, it’s such a good song filled with so much emotion. You can listen to it here
also sorry this is so angsty or whateva, i promise my next one will be more light-hearted. but enjoy, lovelies <3
Quiet and Chaotic. You’d never think there could be a mixture of the two.
Heartbroken and angry. You never thought you’d feel like that again.
Pages upon pages of letters and memories, love notes and promises - all gone to hell. Maybe it was for the best - from what had happened, you would never be able to tell if they were lies or realities. Either way it hurt, because they were nothing to you now. Maybe they were never anything to him.
The bright and ever burning flames tinted your cheeks orange, sending a glare down the tear trails that ran down to your jawline. You watched as the flames danced with eachother, and remembered how you used to dance with him. But it was never so elegant as the flames danced; more messy and lovesick, at three a.m. in his kitchen. Tangled in each other’s arms, bodies pressed to eachother, your hair flailing about when he twirled you ‘round and pulled you near.
You wanted to have that again, yet you’d never wanted to kill someone more. You wanted to kiss him and know he was yours, yet you wanted him to burn - because he wasn’t, not anymore.
His footsteps had echoed down the hall and stopped in the doorway, leaving you tense and filled with a fire worth a million tears. You could feel him watching you, and your heart sang that he was still that sweet boy you had met all those years ago. But your brain knew better.
The footsteps picked up again, and now you could see his shadow on the planks of the cold wood floor. He was going to listen to every word you spat, he was going to know what he had done to you - and he was going to have to live, with or without you.
Feeling his presence still as evident as before, you reached into the gray box in front of you, pulling out yet another one of his letters. You ran your numb fingers along the soft paper, reading the words written on it over and over again. Subconsciously, tear stains began to appear, blurring the ink and frustrating you beyond control.
Your hands gripped the paper tightly, tearing it this way and that before throwing it into the flames in front of you. The fire crackled a response, almost as if it was mocking your pain. You paid no attention as Soda appeared next to you, panicking and he tried to find a way to retrieve the letter. It was ashes now.
You stood without a word, placing the gray box against your hip. You made your way towards the door, hands clutching the fabric of your nightwear tightly. You though of leaving him in here alone just to think, but you decided not to. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction - you needed him to see what you had done to you; like you had done to his letters - burnt them to a crisp, tore them apart beyond repair.
Shakily you inhaled, grabbing the chilled doorknob and pulling the door shut in front of you. Nobody else needed to see what was about to happen, especially none of the guys.
Again, footsteps were heard heading in your direction, and you could feel that he was going to reach out to you. So you stopped him.
“Don’t take another step towards me,” you hissed, your stern back still facing him, “I can’t be trusted around you.”
It was funny that you said that, seeing as you had just shut yourself inside a room with him. But it was the truth - if he had touched you just then, you might’ve slapped him. You were a stick of TNT lit from both ends, and it was about time for you to explode.
Slowly, you turned towards him. He looked remorseful, tired and weak. But you weren’t going to coddle him. He chose this path, he’d have to experience all parts of it.
He opened his mouth to speak, but you quickly shut him down.
“Don’t think you can talk your way into my arms!” Your voice broke midway as you slowly walked past him.
And there it was; the chaos in the quiet. Neither of you spoke for what seemed like hours, yet tensions were flaring beyond compare.
Again, you stood facing the flames, a physical representation of your heart and soul.
With a wavering voice, you decided to get things over with. “Do you know who told me?”
There was no response. Of course he didn’t know - all he knew was that you knew somehow. Darry had told him how you’d rapped on their front door in tears, and pushed passed him just to get the gray box that sat in front of you.
“You did, Soda. You told me, even if you didn’t mean to!” You balled your fists, digging your nails into your palms with trembling lips.
Though it took a moment, it finally clicked in Soda’s brain. You had told him that you were going to stop by the DX after school today, yet he forgot. He didn’t hear nor see you come in, and with the numerous girls surrounding him at the counter, he continued his regular flirts.
You watched and listened from the back room as he joined in on the girls’ games. And if that wasn’t enough to make you angry, what came next was enough to set your heart aflame.
“You still dating that Y/N broad? She’s a little under your radar, don’t ya think?” You had recognized the voice and face of the girl who spoke it immediately, she was one of Sandy’s old friends - before she had left.
Of course you expected your boyfriend of two years and friend of many more to stick up for you, but he didn’t. He shook his head, as if dissatisfied with himself.
“Yeah - but she’s only with me cause no other guy would take her - not even the lowest greasers I know would. It ain’t love, it’s just pretend.”
You rememberd those words so vividly as they appeared in your mind, stone cold and throbbing. Soda now remembered them, and he wished more than anything that he could take them back. He would, in a heartbeat.
He’d whispered those words with the idea that no one, especially not you, would hear them. But you knew whispers all too well.
“Doll, I can explain, ju-”
“Don’t! They whispered an opinion, and you responded by screaming a reality that I was too blind to see until now!”
He stood baffled, not sure how to respond. He hated this situation, he hated what he had said, he hated himself for putting you in pain.
“Was what you said did you really mean it all, throught the span of our relationship?” Your eyes sunk down again, hair falling loosely and sticking to your cheeks.
Soda’s eyes welled up with tears, his lips quivering in fear of losing you; the best thing in his life. He wished he had seen that beforehand.
“It was at first, but I fell in love with you and only you! I’m nothing without you, I never meant for yo-”
“I’m not naive, Soda. I’ve seen girls around you,” you were nearly yelling, your lungs and throat aching with the weight of your sorrows as you belted them out, “I see how they fall for you and all your charm! Your stupid, stupid charm that even I was foolish enough to fall for!”
Soda seemed timid like never before, his tears had long fallen and replenished, only to fall again as he watched you lay down the pain that he had caused in front of him, how you screamed in melancholy and ached with prejudice.
“And when the time comes, explain to your brothers and the gang,” you slowly began to fall down from your high, shriveling and clutching yourself, “the pain and embarrassment that you have put me through.”
You were burnt out, falling to your knees, hair sprawling out like flames down your shoulders; mirroring the real ones in front of them. You felt insane, and no matter how hard you dug your fingers into your sides, you could not wake up. This was not a nightmare.
The gray box came back into your vision, and you spotted a picture on top of some papers. You took the picture between your fingers, glancing over it as you choked on sobs.
It was one of Soda’s favorites - or so he had said. Pony had taken it a few weeks back. Wide smiles and bright eyes were placed on both of your faces, Soda pressing a kiss to your cheek. You loved the picture as well, which is why you wanted it to burn.
You held the photo against your chest, Soda sitting down beside you on the ground. You held the photo out in front of you again, your breath hitching and tears flowing the longer you looked at it. You made sure Soda had a good look at it too, before retracting to toss it into the flames.
Soda shot forward, panic and pain tracing the lines of his face as he rummaged to try and pull the photo from the fire’s grasp. To your dismay, he got it. You reached up, trying to grab it from him so you could throw it back in, but he wouldn’t give.
So you caved, falling into his side, his arms wrapping around you. You wanted to hate him, you wanted to smack him so hard he’d pass out. But you were completely and utterly, burnt out. And there was no way your flame would reignite - not for a long, long time.
But Soda was willing to wait until you trusted him again, until you found it in yourself to forgive him. Though he would never forgive himself. So he just held you, running a hand through your messy and loosely tied ponytail.
The fire between the two of you was built by whispers, and you’d both had your fair share of them.
You’d rebuild your life together piece by piece, even when burnt to a crisp.
