Lighthearted♡

「Different」

(Luke's P.O.V.)

After we heard Jai lock himself away in his room again, my mother decided to go make hot chocolate, and Beau went into the living room to watch a movie. I on the other hand, wanted to go speak with Jai privately. It seemed as though I was one of the only people he would open up to.

I kicked off my snow boots, and put away my heavy coat. I began to make my way upstairs, directly towards Jai's room. I knocked gently on his door 4 times because, I told Jai when we were younger that if he ever heard 4 knocks, then it would be me on the other side of the door.

I didn't have to wait long for him to answer his door, which meant he still remembered what 4 knocks meant. He had tear stains on his cheeks, and a red nose. He opened his door far enough for me to enter, and once I was inside, he closed the door behind me. I looked around his room as if I was a tourist because, usually when Jai and talked, it was in my room or in the backyard. He rarely lets anyone in his room so, I was quite surprised when he actually let me in his room.

He had drawings and crafts that he had made hung all over his room, and he had some splattered paint thrown on his walls and ceiling as well. His room reminded me of an art studio as a matter of fact. One picture in particular, that was on the floor, drew my attention more than anything else in his room though.

It was a picture of a bunch of children, all of which who were smiling and laughing, but there was a little boy who seemed to be all alone in the middle of the picture. The little boy had tears running down his face, and he looked to be so sad for someone who was surrounded by happy people.

I suppose Jai saw me studying the picture because, he quickly bent down and snatched it up off the ground. He crumpled it up and then threw it away in a garbage can he had in his room. A garbage can that was full of all sorts of ripped up and shredded papers. Papers of which I was curious to see what was on them.

"It's nothing. Just a picture I drew when I was nine." He shrugged. I didn't say anything, but I gestured for him to sit down on his bed.

We both sat down facing each other, but he simply stared passed me and out of the window in his room. I turned to see what he was looking at, and I realized that he was attracted to the falling white snow.

"What does it feel like?" He asked in a quite whisper with tears welling up in his eyes. He asks me that question every time it snows, and yet every time he asks, I can never describe it well enough.

"Really cold." I stated and mentally slapped myself for the blunt answer I gave him. He deserved better than that.

"Do you like it?" He questioned, intrigued with the falling frozen water.

"Not really. I mean it's fun to play in it for a little bit but, eventually my gloves get wet and my hands become really cold and numb." I said to him. He then stood up, and walked over to the dresser in his room. He pulled a drawer open, and then he pulled out a pair of gloves. He stared at them with saddened eyes before putting them on.

"These used to be my favorite gloves. I wore them every single snow day, and at age five, I could've sworn that these gloves were magical. I guess it was because, all the other kids in our neighborhood would complain about their fingers being in pain after long hours of building snowmen, while I never felt a thing at all. I thought it was because my gloves had superpowers in them that would protect me from the snow. Though, at age 7, my gloves slipped off in the middle of a snowball fight and that's when I realized I couldn't feel the snow at all. I felt like the past seven years of my little life were all an illusion and that none of it was real." He sniffled and then continued while my heart broke,

"Mum talked to me that night, and she told me about my condition. Apparently you and Beau already knew about it, and keeping the truth from me was supposed to keep me happier." A tear rolled down his face and then splashed silently onto the floor.

"Did it?" I asked out of curiosity. I wanted to know if keeping the truth from him for seven years did anything, anything at all.

"Of course it did! I was the happiest kid alive and I thought that I had superpowers! Though, it turns out that I'm just a freak." He said as he pulled his gloves off roughly and threw them forcefully to a random corner in his room.

"You're not a freak Jai, and don't call yourself that. You know I hate it when you do that." I scolded while feeling bad for him.

"But I am Luke!" He had tears of anger rolling down his face. I then got up from my spot, and I hugged him tightly. I wanted him to know that I cared for him.

"You aren't a freak. You're my little brother and I love you no matter what. You're different, that's all." I said to him.

"Why am I different?" He asked in a broken whisper.

"I don't know bug. But I DO know that everything happens for a reason." I replied.

"I-Is different bad?" He asked in worry, but I firmly said,

"No. It most definitely is not. You're different, but I'll forever boldly call you mine."

********

Thoughts are much appreciated!

All the love,
R♥︎