Nickels (Spot Conlon x reader) {Completed}

6

Warning: This will be a very cliche chapter! :)

Nickels pov

And as our lips connected, the New York lights seemed to shine just a little bit brighter.

Spot's lips moved against mine, soft and slow. One of his hands pressed against the small of my back, pushing me closer to him, the other resting on my hip.

As the kiss deepened, I felt myself leaning in, and wanting more, which should not have been happening. I found myself kissing back, which I did not want to do. All of this had been so I could get his pimp cane I have to remind myself.

But then Spot bits my lower lip carefully, and all thoughts flee from my mind.

My hands find their way up into his dark, honey-colored hair, entwining themselves their. I tug his head towards me, trying to deepen the kiss.

Spot happily obliged.

Eventually, we have to break for air, both our chests heaving up and down.

"Shit." I mutter, "I'se shouldn't 'ave done dat."

I then turn and run. Like a coward.

Spot pov

"Shit." She mutters, "I'se shouldn't 'ave done dat." She looks at me with a mixture of sadness and guilt in her eyes, then she bolts.

Her hair whips up as she jumps off the side of the building, to the fire escape below.

I stand there, mouth hanging open. No girl has ever ditched me. I'm the one to ditch them. This is a very new feeling that I don't like.

I quickly come to my senses, "Y/n!" I shout, racing after her. I jump down to the fire escape and shimmy down the ladder. (Or is it a pole? I don't know how 1898 fire escapes worked...) My feet thump to the dirty Bronx streets. Brooklyn is much cleaner. (Again, I don't know about this, but either way, I feel like Spot would say it, even if it's not true.) I scan the end of the alleyway, but no head of h/c hair is visible. A stream of profanities expel themselves from my mouth. The problem is, Y/n knows the streets of the Bronx, while I don't. She could be hiding in any crevice that I would pass over. Nonetheless, I run to the middle of the streets and start looking. I shout her name, even though I'm probably waking half the Bronx. I run down the streets, slightly panicking, as the rays of the sun start to come up.

I have to get back to Brooklyn soon. Even though I'm sleep deprived and my emotions are a mess, I still have to sell my papes. But I can't let my boys see me like this! I have to be the strong, fearless leader. I run a hand through my wild hair. I huff and start to make my way back to Brooklyn.

The good thing is that I will definitely see more of Y/n if I join the strike. Well, maybe not. She's known for disappearing. Maybe if I join the strike I could get Emmie to tell me where she lives. He's bound to know as her brother.

I sigh as the 3rd Avenue bridge comes into view. I don't wanna leave, however cheesy that sounds. I take my cap outta my pocket and shove on my head. I lean against a building, letting my head fall back. I want to see her again. To make sure that she's okay.

The sun is higher up in the sky, and I see some people start to emerge from their homes. I need to get back to my home.

I push off the building, and am about to take my first step right before a hand clamps over my mouth and someone pulls me back into the alleyway.

"So, I've found the famous Spot Conlon. I reckon you've committed a few crimes that'll land you in the Refuge and me a pretty penny."

Hey my peeps! Again, I said that this would be a very cliche chapter! I warned you! I know the ending is skeptical, but I needed it to be done. Also sorry for the "beautiful" (?) language. I kind of got carried away with the metaphors and similes. Probably because we're relearning it in English. Even though we've been learning it since 3rd frickin' grade!!!! (Sorry, I hate my English teacher.) Well, thanks for reading my rant; until next time!! 😁