Demi Imagines 2.0

What Really Matters

In all the bullshit, she was the only real thing.

Everyone in your life has always been shallow. You've never met anyone real. It's like you were stuck in a sea of dolls, all slightly different variations on the same model.
You couldn't believe everything that people held important. The focus on appearances, social status, money, and "cool" friends was just an attempt to fill up sad empty lives. But nobody seemed to notice.
When you met her, it was like the veil over your eyes had been lifted. The world was in color; the smallest of things were beautiful.
"I hate people," she said.
"Same," you replied.
And that was it.
Her messy hair was tied up in an even messier bun, and she didn't bother with makeup. She was wearing a T-shirt with holes in it, and she didn't even bother with pants. You'd known each other for a day. She was already going pants-less.
Her apartment was filled with books. It was as if anything she ever had even the smallest interest in, she got a book for it.
On the outside, you'd think she didn't care. That's probably why she didn't have a lot of friends. Nobody bothered to look deeper than the surface. But you wanted to. You needed to.
That's why when you met her that day in the bookstore, the two of you looking for the same book, and she so unceremoniously asked if you wanted to come to her place with a curt "wanna see my place?", you told her "sure".
You were intrigued by the fact that she would invite a complete stranger to her own home just based on how you "looked like a real person".
You would hope you did.
"Books are better than people," she informed you.
"Animals are better, too," you replied.
She smiled.
"People always care about stupid shit. They're acting like they care so much but in reality, they're not giving a shit about anything that actually matters."
You nodded, not knowing if she wanted a response or not.
"People are selfish," she said, and you nodded again. "I don't like most people," she looked to you, meeting your eyes, "but I like you."
You resisted the urge to smile and instead replied with a nonchalant "why?"
"You don't care about stuff that doesn't matter," she responded simply.
"You barely know me," you told her, but she just smiled slightly.
"The fact that I didn't hate you on the spot tells me a lot about you."
Apparently it did. She understands you like nobody else. It wasn't something just on the surface like you happened to like the same kind of music or the same author. It wasn't something like you could agree on what flavor of ice cream is the best.
It was something more; it was real.
You didn't agree on some things, but that's what made it so great.
For the first time in your life, you actually wanted to know someone. You wanted to know everything about her—from her flaws to her passions. You wanted to know everything.
You both hated a lot of things, but you helped each other see the beauty in life. But most importantly, you finally got something to truly love with your entire soul and being: one another.

A/N
I wrote this
Then it disappeared
I panicked
Then realized I'd just cut it instead of just copying
It's all good now