SUNSET CURVE | one shots

He Understands Me

pairing: luke patterson x neurodivergent!molina!reader
word count: 3,726
warnings: mentions of bad parental relationships, sensory processing issues, denial of mental conditions, fluff etc.
note: the reader in this fic has ADHD, and is based off my personal experiences with it and how i usually deal with it :)

Luke entered the Molina household in search of his bandmate and songwriter, but found that the house seemed to be void of people, which was odd. At least, he thought it was empty until he heard someone speaking. Humming, actually. Curious, Luke went down the hallway that was adjacent to the front door, finding that he was led to the guest room.

He found that the humming grew louder as he approached, and he could now decipher that it was a girl, humming a lighter version of the chorus to Drops of Jupiter, occasionally half-mumbling, half-singing some of the lyrics. She seemed to only remember the chorus, since it kept repeating in his ears.

When Luke tried peaking through the crack in the open door, he stepped on a creaky floor board. The girl stopped and whipped her head around, looking back at the door and stopping her humming. She was sitting cross-legged on the grey bedding, looking down at something in her hands - at least she was, until Luke accidentally revealed himself.

"Julie? That you?"

Hesitantly, Luke stepped toward the door and pushed it open with his hand. "No, I'm her bandmate. Luke,"

You looked the boy up and down, confused as to why he was in your uncle's home. "I'm, uh, Y/n. Julie's cousin."

Luke nodded, gnawing on his lip. He bounced on his heels and looked around the guest room, seeing a few open suitcases on the floor, clothes spilling out of them. He looked back at you and saw something in your hands, so he asked, "Whatcha doing?"

Nervous, you looked down at the piece of paper in your hand, creased and feeling worn from the past half an hour. "I was, uh, playing with this piece of paper," Slightly embarrassed, you held up the paper that you had just folded into a square, fiddling it between your pointer finger and your middle finger before lowering your arm and focusing back on the paper.

Luke, intrigued, sat on the end of the bed and looked toward you. After a few minutes of silence, the only sounds being you folding and unfolding the paper, he said, "So, what makes you tick?"

"I'm sorry?" You asked.

"You're interesting. A lot of people talk my ears off or try to flirt with me, but you don't. I like that. You're... different. So, what makes you tick?"

At his words, you turned your head to look at Luke and say, "ADHD."

You saw his eyes widen a little and you let out a huff of breath that you supposed could pass as a laugh, looking back down at your lap. But then, Luke started talking. "I've heard about ADHD. I think one of my cousins has it. It can be hard sometimes, right?"

There was no joking or harsh tone in his voice, just genuine curiosity. Looking back up at the boy, you were happy to share your experiences with him. "Sometimes, yeah. There are days where I can do anything - go anywhere, interact with as many people as I want. But some days it can be difficult. I have a hard time wanting to speak at all, or I don't want to do anything but listen to music and lie down."

And Luke sat, listening intently as you explained everything to him. How some days processing people's voices, words, and emotions was tough, how even doing simple things zapped your energy. How you couldn't stop moving, whether it was swaying, tapping your foot, bouncing your leg, or clicking a pen - as long as you were moving you were okay. Then there was the auditory processing. Too many loud or high pitched sounds at once made you feel physically frustrated, and sometimes if you liked one particular part of a song, it would be all you listened to for a few days. It was the same thing with phrases; if there was a certain phrase that someone said in an accent or tone, you would repeat it under your breath constantly until you forgot about it or moved on.