Watercolour Eyes

Plane to Paris

"Are we really going?" 

"Yes! Tomorrow fuck Yes we are baby!" 

"Oh Sid i love you!" She jumped to him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he spun her around and kissed her passionately. "Oh God i can't wait! I'm gonna go pack!" she let herself down from Sid and ran to her wardrobe. pulling out her suitcase and searching through the collection of outfits she had. 

Sid, revelling in her enthusiasm, couldn't help but smile. He had just informed Vanity about their upcoming trip to Paris, prompted by Malcolm's directive to film his rendition of Frank Sinatra's 'My Way' – a more offensive and crude version that they had written together. The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle was reaching the end of filming, and Paris beckoned them for this next chapter in the Pistols.

"Going to be a wild ride, babe. Paris won't know what hit 'em," Sid declared with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Vanity paused, gazing at him with adoration. "I can't believe we're really going."

Sid chuckled, "Believe it, love. My Way in Paris, just you and me."

As Vanity continued to pack, thoughts of the impending trip danced through her mind. The idea of being in Paris, the city of love, with Sid filled her with a warmth she hadn't known before. The anticipation fueled her movements, making the mundane act of packing feel like a prelude to something extraordinary.

The night passed in a blur of excitement and last-minute preparations. The next morning, as the sun painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, Vanity was the first to wake up, she carefully tiptoed out of their bedroom, leaving a peacefully sleeping Sid behind.

She had a special delivery to make before they left for Paris. The quiet morning streets served as her pathway to Johnny's place, now why was she going to Johnny's place?

Arriving at Johnny's doorstep, the cold biting at her red cheeks, she took a moment to admire the sunrise before she walked up the steps to his door and with a sly smile, she slid it under his door, knowing what it contained.

Vanity made her way back home to Sid and found him stirring from his sleep, carefully, she crawled across the bed to him. Straddling his lap as she lowered herself, placing soft, tender kisses across his neck, then down his upper chest area before going back to his neck.

He hummed in contentment, he allowed a small happy grin to appear on his lips, his eyes still closed however. "Sidney" Vanity teased a whisper, letting her lips brush over the soft skin of Sid's chest. "Sid...wake up" She said a little louder this time, running her nails along his chest. 

He let out a little croak and lifted his arm up to stretch before letting it fall back down to his side "I'm awake" He mumbled, still with his eyes closed. "Sure you are" Vanity raised a brow before giggling and jumping off of the bed. 

"You can sleep on the plane come on" Vanity grabbed his hand and began to physically drag him off of the bed. "Stop stop stop!" Sid rushed as his body began to fall off of the bed. "I'm up i'm up!" He shouted and his body hit the floor with a thud. 

As Sid groaned, rubbing the back of his head, Vanity couldn't help but laugh at the chaotic start to their day. "Smooth, Sidney." she teased, extending a hand to help him up. Sid accepted the assistance, shooting her a playful glare as he stood.

"What'd ya have to go and do that for? i was up." Sid asked, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Vanity chuckled, shaking her head. "Sure you were that's why you could barely speak to me." She moved to the closet, pulling out a mishmash of clothing for their trip to Paris. "Come on, love, we've got a plane to catch, and I'd rather not have to face Steve and Paul's wrath if we're late for the airport."

Sid picked up his black jeans from the floor, slipping them over his legs. "why don't we just meet em in Paris then?"

"Shut up" Vanity shook her head before calling Malcolm and letting him know they were awake so that he could send a taxi for them.

Meanwhile, whilst Vanity and Sid were on their flight to Paris with Steve and Paul sat across from them, Johnny was just waking up.

He lazily walked down the stairs, rubbing his eye with the ball of his hand, grabbing his packet of cigarettes he lit one up, taking a short drag before going to the kitchen to get a drink. It hadn't been all miserable for Johnny, he'd created a band with a friend of his, Keith Levene called Public Image Ltd. He felt happy, like he was doing what he actually wanted to do and it was the end of something old. He'd moved on from the Pistols and he was happy to do so.

 His hair was a lighter brown now, and more fluffy and filled out rather than his spiky orange hair that he used to have, he'd also changed the style of his clothing, opting for ragged suites with lazily tied ties, he still his creepers though, the one's he always wore were the ones he'd gotten for Christmas off of Vanity. He hadn't gotten her anything however as they were still butting heads at that stage.

As he made himself some breakfast (despite it being half past twelve in the afternoon), the cigarette hanging loosely from his slightly chapped lips he noticed something white out of the corner of his eye near his doorstep. He turned his head to face it, and there on the blue door mat was a little white envelope. His brows furrowed, it wasn't unusual for there to be post obviously but normally the postman doesn't arrive until at least one o'clock to Johnny's house. 

He placed his bowl of cereal on the side before walking up to the blue door mat, he picked up the tightly sealed envelope between his fingers and walked back into the kitchen where he lent on the counter top. 

Johnny had turned the envelope a few times to see if there was anything written on the front or back of it, there was nothing there. He ripped open the top of it carelessly, it could've been a fan letter. he'd been getting a lot of them lately. 

However when he pulled the paper from the envelope he saw it was a very rugged and very crumpled piece of lined paper which had a coffee stain on the corner of it. It looked as though someone had tried to straighten the crumples and creases out from the paper, succeeding to do so ever so slightly. 

Johnny unfolded the worn paper, intrigued by what it could be containing. The scrawl on the page was unmistakably Vanity's handwriting. As he began to read, a mix of emotions played across his face – surprise, confusion, and eventually a subtle smile.

"What makes Johnny so great by Vanity," he muttered aloud, his voice quiet and low. his eyes scanned down the page as he read it in his head.

1) Honest (a bit too much sometimes)

2)Funny

3)Intelligent

4)Loyal

5)Great hair

6)Always knows how to make me laugh

7)Artistic 

8)Has a brilliant sense of style

9)Smart 

10)He took care of me

As Johnny read the last of the list he struggled to see through blurred vision. Sid's hurtful, bitter words replaying in his head.

"You're just jealous because no one can even write down one thing they love about you."

And Vanity. Vanity. She'd done what Sid did for her, for Johnny. His heart felt heavier than it ever had done as he concealed the glaze over his blue eyes. 

She wrote them all down...

A/N: BOOM FIRST CHAPTER OF THE THIRD BOOK DONE. I'm honestly so please with it and got a bit teary eyed myself whilst writing it because fuck i'm dying. 

Someone needs to come up with ship names for Sid and Vanity cause they r just so cute together.