the credit for the header goes to @hesmydrugstorecowboy ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ pink lemonade with ice

you came home at around 6:00 p.m. the sky was dark, with tiny white specks sprinkled across it, as you arrived at your modest one-story home on the east side of tulsa. wanting to relax, you set down your bag and kicked off your ballet flats before changing into a nightgown and finding a ribbon to tie your hair into a low ponytail.

it was friday night, and you were ready to hop into bed with a novel and some tea—until the doorbell rang.

you froze for a second in confusion. who would be at your door at such a late hour? and tonight, you were home alone. what were you supposed to do?

then you remembered.

“shit,” you muttered to yourself, quickly standing up, dusting yourself off, and running to get the door.

your father had called a roofer to fix the hole in your roof that he’d noticed a few days earlier. that must be him!

you didn’t have time to get ready, so you simply cleared your throat and opened the door—only to freeze when you saw him.

he was tall, wearing a gray tank top that left his muscles on full display. you looked up to meet his gaze, only to be met with sharp, greek-like features and piercing blue eyes.

he gave a small smile and nodded before noticing how you seemed to be a bit… distracted.

“um, miss? m’here to fix your roof. darrel—darrel curtis,” he said, reaching out a firm, warm hand that wrapped around yours.

“yup! c’mon in,” you said quickly, turning around in an attempt to hide the blush on your face as you guided him to where the hole was.

you paused in the hallway, pointing to it—the hole from which water dripped down almost rhythmically into a tin can placed underneath it.

“mm, alright. doesn’t look too bad. how long’d it take for y’all to call?”

“what?”

“how long did y’wait to call us?”

“um, i think we called the day we saw it.”

“ah, alright. i was just confused. i ain’t recognize your voice.”

for some strange reason, what he said made you let out a small chuckle—or a giggle of sorts. you just felt so flustered at the way his eyes focused on your features.

“um, yeah, i wasn’t the one who called. it was my dad.”

he nodded before beginning to walk toward the front door, gesturing for you to follow, which you did.

“won’t take me too long. as i said, it’s a real simple one. it’ll take me ’bout half an hour,” he said, setting down his toolbox.

“alright!” you said. an awkward silence fell over the two of you before you shook yourself back into reality and walked away after asking if he needed any snacks or drinks, which he politely declined.

about fifteen minutes later, you just couldn’t resist going out to see him. but you needed a reason—you weren’t that dumb.

you looked around until you spotted something—the leftover pink lemonade your mom had made earlier before leaving for work. quickly, you grabbed the jug and poured it into your “finest” glasses—at least, as fine as a greaser family could own.

you calmed yourself down to avoid any unintentional chuckles or giggles and brought it outside before calling to him.

“um, hey! hey! d’you want this?”

your sudden voice made him jolt, nearly causing him to fall off the ladder.

“jesus!” he exclaimed, shaking his head before slowly climbing down. “you damn near killed me, girl,” he said, letting out an exhausted chuckle, eyeing you up and down.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to, i just wanted to give you this—oh my, i doubt you’ll accept it now, i wouldn’t, i mean—”

“quiet before you give me a damn heart attack,” he interrupted, taking the glass from your hand and drinking it slowly, some of it dripping down his chin.

“ah, it’s nice. you make this yourself?”

“my mama made it.”

“nice,” he said simply before checking his watch. “um, well… i really gotta get home. it’s gettin’ late, and i got some kid brothers to watch over. tell your daddy i’ll be back tomorrow to finish it, alright?”

“oh, okay…” you said, a hint of sadness clear in your voice.

he chuckled softly, and god, his gaze lit a fire within you. or maybe it was just the young adult hormones.

“bye, kid,” he said, shaking his head with a chuckle before walking away.

hello, thank you so much! that’s so incredibly sweet. sadly, i don’t have an ao3 account because i have no idea how to write on there, but i’ll definitely try to write longer stories and maybe even some series as well! <3