DIFFERENT (Teen Moriarty x reader)

Chapter 13 Diary of the diverse

-Dublin, Ireland. 1983
- age 7

A young man shot his look up to the face of a boy who had just shoved him down.

His face pale yet stern, and not at all saddened by the recent event.

"You can't play with us!" They would scream at him, most of the time well he was helplessly pushed away.

"Your weird!!" A word was often used to describe his differences.

Traits the other children did not seem to have, lack of emotion, even intellect.

It was often as if he was trying to compete with them, to dim down his personality because it seemed to diverse for society.

The only person whom seemed remotely close to him was his twin.

However it was never fun being compared to a person who others believed to be a replica of ones self.

Because in truth, they simply where two different people, who rarely had matching interests.

So for the Boy life was lonely, and to his mind life was fruitless.

To this intelligent, diverse boy.. life was boring.

So in turn.. Little Jim was hardly ever social.

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(Jims point of view) (present)

I had often spent times Engulfed in thought.

These days thoughts came so easily. For most people it was a mystery why I stared blankly at things for long periods of time.
For a while it was a mystery to myself.

However soon I realized something... It was plan and simple but my brain never connected it before.

It was her...

A girl I had not intended to be so keen to.

But when I saw her.. Standing cold and forgotten at my front door...
I had all but given up hope on wanting to keep my distance.

My life was always so dull, empty and fruitless. As I had more often then not, been alone.

But now... She was always so close... And I never felt any distance.. I never had to.

She let me in so effortlessly that I had nearly forgotten that she was real.

For the only friends I had ever made where figments of my imagination

I began to grow so keen to her that, having her ripped from me was the most self shattering thing I had experienced.

She her self had become the only thing worth living.. She her self... Had been my breath, in times when I felt I had no air.

At first she was just another face, however I do admit I sensed her diversity from the start.

When she picked up my book and began to read.. I had found something.

A trait I search for in many... The trait of curiosity.

When she lied about the number of pages she had read I found another thing.

A sense of competition and cleverness.

She from then on.. Glowed.. And it was even when she was throw off her bike and before my feet that I had fallen like she did.

Fallen into a feeling I had not yet heard of.

She has become so much more then a face now... Much more then another waste of breath in this world

She had become my warmth, my safe haven.

She soon became the only thing I desired.
The only thing I had
The only thing I love