He hit me and it felt like a kiss ; SID VICIOUS.

01.

HE HIT ME AND IT FELT LIKE A KISS ; sid vicious
✦ | 01, twat.
chapter one

trigger warning !!
swearing, underaged smoking.

BROOKLYN BABY
❝I think I'm too cool to know ya
You say I'm like the ice, I freeze
I'm churnin' out novels like
Beat poetry on Amphetamines❞
LANA DEL REY.

the year 1973

In the quiet corners of existence, lies the potential for tumultuous energy—a dangerous calm before the storm, where the silence speaks volumes of the hidden depths within.

"We're 'ome!" bellowed a hearty voice, rupturing the serene air that enveloped the house, rudely interrupting me whilst I wos nestled in my book on the couch in the livin' room. It were Johnny, I reckoned, but 'oo did he mean by 'we'? Who's this 'we'?

I pondered sneakin' a peek through the door betwixt the livin' room and the house hallway, when I heard my mum comin' down, greetin' Johnny and his mate like she already knew him.

I cautiously poked my head out, spyin' two blokes alongside me mum—Johnny, of course, but the other gent?

The chap spotted me and nudged Johnny's shoulder. "Johnny, there's a girl in yer livin' room eyein' us," he remarked, pointin' in my direction, causin' Johnny to swivel and catch sight o' me as well.

"Oh, that's just me sister, Priscilla," Johnny announced, and all eyes turned to me—a lass standin' there with unkempt hair and a book clutched in my hand, only moments ago lost in its pages.

As their gaze bore into me, I ventured further into the hallway, attemptin' to neaten my appearance and salvage a bit of dignity from this embarrassin' introduction.

The stranger arched his eyebrow, a smirk playin' on his lips. "You never mentioned havin' a sister our age," he observed, directin' 'is words at Johnny. Johnny, in response, simply shrugged, implyin' there were no need to mention me, but the fella persisted. "Oh, there's a need when yer sister looks like this," he quipped impudently, leavin' me dumbfounded and bewildered by his boldness.

Johnny's swift rebuke—a hearty slap to the back of the chap's head—signaled my mum's cue to depart and make lunch, leavin' us to our own devices. Though it might 'ave been time for me to scarper, I found myself oddly compelled to linger. Despite the bloke's odd manner, I couldn't deny there was a certain charm about 'im.

"Cilla, this is John," Johnny introduced, promptin' a chuckle from me that left 'em both lookin' perplexed. Maybe it weren't all that funny, but I found meself sayin', "John and John, what a coincidence!" Johnny's eye roll spoke volumes.

Never the jester among my siblings, I usually kept to myself 'round strangers, not much one for socializin'. That's why Johnny looked so puzzled, while this so-called John simply stared at me, a curious glint in his eye.

My gaze darted between the two lads—one givin' me a queer stare, and the other, wearin' a look of bewilderment and concern. Honestly, I couldn't decide which look grated on my nerves more. It were then that I made myself scarce, bolting upstairs to my room quicker than you could say 'Jane Austin', utterin', "It were nice meetin' you, John, but I reckon I'll retire to my quarters now. Ta-ta."

At this point, I weren't rightly sure if this John fella watched me make my exit, but I didn't care to check—it would've been right peculiar.