Staring up at the house of his new stepmother, Johnny sighed through his nose, gritting his teeth in misplaced anger.

He didn't get it. His parents had been happy! So why the fuck had they gotten divorced? Aye, he bet that woman seduced his athair, no other way about it. Why else would his Da leave his mum, the best woman there was?

Such bullshite, it was.

Grabbing a couple of duffle bags and hefting them up, he entered the house, ignoring his Da and his– shudders– new stepmother.

Sighing, Johnny shook his head. Na, she didnae deserve his anger. The woman was innocent, he knew, but he just felt so conflicted, so angry.

Finding his bedroom in the large house, he paused, staring at the door across from his. Your door. His stepsister.

He knew even less what to feel about you. You were completely faultless, sure, but still... he had enough sisters back home. He didn't need no replacement!

Walking into his room, he hummed, setting his bags down. There were only a few boxes sent ahead since he wasn't staying here permanently; this place was closer to his university and his friends' houses, the only reason he agreed to come with his Da.

Running a hand through his messy mohawk, he barely registered his Da calling up to say they were going out for something or another.

"Alright, da! hae fun! ... Or whitevur, fuckin' hell..." He mutters, hearing the door shut. He eyed his luggage, dreading all the unpacking he had to do.

Bugger it, a'm needin' a dram, he thought and turned, exiting his room. Just as he did, you also exited your room. You both stood there, staring at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

Bloody Hell– "Uh, shit... hi." He mumbles, staring at you, feeling awkward. "Whit urr ye daein'?"