Beautiful Mess || Johnny Rotten

Chapter 28: In The Wake Of Chaos

The afternoon sun streamed through the tattered curtains, casting curious shadows across the scuffed wooden floor and the unmade bed.

Violet and Johnny were locked in a heated kiss, her leg swinging over him as she settled onto his lap with breathless urgency. His hands found her hips instantly, fingers curling tightly, unwilling to let even an inch of space come between them. With a firm pull, he drew her closer, their bodies pressed together in a seamless, intimate connection.

She hummed softly as her fingers slipped under his jumper, pulling it off his body in one smooth, eager motion to revealing his pale, bare chest.

His lips trailed down to her neck, his tongue grazing her soft skin in slow, tantalizing strokes that sent a shiver through her. Her fingers tangled in his orange locks, tightening and tugging each time his lips lingered on a particularly sensitive spot.

The pair had been this way since John's return from Berlin, constantly attached, as if the distance between them during his time away had only intensified the pull they felt toward each other. Every moment they spent together seemed to erase the time apart, the chemistry between them undeniable, almost magnetic. They couldn't keep their hands off one another, caught up in the rush of emotions and the desperate need to be close, to make up for lost time. Each touch felt like a claim, each kiss a promise.

John's hand slid beneath her thigh, lifting it to hook over his hip as he flipped her effortlessly beneath him. The movement was quick and fluid, bringing their bodies even closer, the heat of their skin meeting in an undeniable rush. The air between them crackled with intensity, each touch speaking louder than words.

Violet let out a soft gasp as his lips drifted down her chest, his hands gathering the fabric of her oversized shirt as he kissed lower, each movement making her pulse quicken.

His fingertips skimmed over her lacy underwear as he gently coaxed her legs apart, settling himself between them with a careful, deliberate ease. She closed her eyes, biting down on her bottom lip, a soft sigh escaping her as she steadied herself for what was coming.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Someone looks happy" Cookie whistled as Violet stepped into the hideout, followed by Johnny, a faint smirk tugging on his slightly chapped lips,

"Oh, shut ya face," Violet said, unable to hide her grin as she flopped onto the battered old couch, tossing her legs over the armrest,

"You two finally made up, I take it," Steve chimed in with a grimace, clearly unsettled by the thought of his best friend and Johnny getting it on,

John stayed silent as he leaned against the table, but the knowing smirk on his face said everything that needed to be said.

Paul checked his watch. "Where's Sid? He does know we got practice, right?" he asked, glancing over at John for an answer,

"I'm not his babysitter," John scoffed, folding his arms. "He'll be 'ere."

"Don't know why Malcolm's still got us practicing anyway," Steve piped up. "It's not like we've got any gigs coming in."

Violet huffed. "I can't believe they banned you from playing all around the country! It's a fuckin' joke."

"Malcom will fix it-"Steve started,

"Malcolm? Oh, give it a rest, Steve. He's a bloody tosser, driving us straight into the ground!" Johnny spat, his anger evident. "The best thing for us to do is to get rid of him"

Steve's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "Oh yeah, and who'd you expect would want to manage us, then, John?!"

Johnny shot him a look, cool as ever. "Anyone with half a brain. Couldn't do worse than the daft git we've got now."

Sid stumbled in through the door, looking completely out of it. His eyes were dazed, and his expression was a mix of confusion and disorientation. "Oi, what's goin' on?" he muttered, swaying slightly as he blinked, trying to make sense of the scene around him,

"Malcolm" Violet groaned, rubbing her eyes as she sank further into the sofa,

"Oh, right," Sid mumbled, plonking down next to her with a tired slump,

"All I'm saying is Malcolm treats us like a bloody circus act!" John seethed, his face flushed with anger. "Like that last gig in Berlin, those maniacs could've fucking killed us! And where was Malcom huh?!"

"Doin'... manager things!" Steve tried, his voice lacking confidence as he threw his hands up in a half-hearted gesture,

"Oh, please, Steve," John retorted, his voice laced with disbelief. "Even I know you ain't that stupid!"

Steve shut his mouth, at a loss for words, unable to think of a comeback.

"Look at us, for fuck's sake!" John exclaimed, gesturing wildly around the room. Sid's head lolled onto Violet's shoulder as the five of them were sprawled across the dingy hideout, a mess of tired bodies amongst the cluttered chaos.

"You think any band would put up with this?!" John snapped, his voice rising. "Well, do ya?!"

"I think Johnny's got a point, Steve," Violet said, her voice cutting through the tension. "You've got a number one single and a new album out, and yet none of ya have seen a penny from it."

John grinned, finally sensing that someone was starting to get where he was coming from.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, just... let me talk to him alright? I'll sort it."

"Talk to him! You've got to be-" John started, his voice rising in exasperation.

"Johnny!" Violet interjected sharply, cutting him off. "He said he's gonna talk to him, so he'll talk to him. For now, let's just leave it at that, yeah?" She said, her voice softening as she ran her fingers gently through Sid's hair, his head slumped against her shoulder, passed out cold.

John leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, his frustration simmering. "Fine," he muttered, his voice thick with irritation. "But don't say I didn't warn ya."

The tension hung heavy in the air as quiet set over them, unspoken but palpable. They were all there, trapped in the aftermath of their argument, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The cluttered, dimly lit hideout seemed to press in around them, the reality of their situation too complicated to address in one breath.

No answers. No resolutions. Just the quiet hum of what was to come next.