It had been two weeks since the incident, five days since the Jones' decided to pack up and leave and still, even after all her parents efforts to try and make her forget about it, it was still the thing that plagued her thoughts, ruined her dreams. She couldn't escape it no matter how hard people tried.

The girl sighed, looking out the window of their car to their new neighbourhood. It was your typical white picket fence type of neighbourhood, with the lawns cute to perfection and the houses painted immaculately, it felt like something out of a fifties movie. Violet pushed her sunglasses up as the trees parted and the sun blasted through the window. Zipping her hoodie up to the top, Violet threw her hood up and shoved a cassette into her walkman, slumping down in her seat.

They arrived at the house, popping the trunk open to unload their belongings into their humble abode that Violet abhorred. The girl sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow. The heat had been more intense these past few days, something Violet despised even more than moving. In the two weeks she had to herself after being expelled she had realised a few things. She realised that her powers worked a lot like the sun. Violet hadn't told her parents yet, but she figured this out by using said powers, something she was not allowed to do according to her mother. She found her powers were strongest outside, where the sun hit her directly, she figured that out after her hands nearly blinded her.

So she covered herself up. In her mind, if the sun didn't touch her skin, then maybe her powers would become stunted, unable to use. Violet would wear hoodies and sweatpants, despite the fact she was boiling. She would just have to get used to it. The only thing she couldn't cover up were the now permanent orange irises she had adopted. Her parents had yet to notice, considering she wore sunglasses everywhere she went.

Violet was brought out of her thoughts by a nudge to her side. She blinked, looking up at her mother who smiled. "Welcome home."

"Yeah..." Violet muttered, collecting up one of the boxes and walking into the house.

This wasn't home, and it never would be home.

Her father placed the last box on the kitchen counter a few minutes after Violet had unpacked her box. "Alright, so, I think that's everything." He opened the box that read "kitchen supplies". Violet took her earphones out, placing her Walkman on the counter. "Oh!" said her father, clicking his fingers. "Remind me to pick up the fireproof kitchen utensils."

Violet stalled, her hand gripping tightly on her Walkman. She heard her mother hiss his name, as if he had spilled a giant secret. Without looking at them, Violet spoke up. "Why do we need fireproof utensils, dad?"

There was a long silence, probably as her dad struggled to find the words to plead his case. "Well, you know, these new gas cookers, they're a hazard."

Violet swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice cracking as she removed her glasses. "They're a hazard." she turned to them, orange glassy eyes staring back at his nervous blue ones. "Or I'm a hazard?"

There was silence for a long moment, spare the surprised gasp her mother let out at seeing her daughter's new eye colour. After she got no response, the girl shook her head. "I'm going to unpack in my room. I'll be sure not to burn anything."

With that, she grabbed her Walkman and stomped up to her room. Boxes of her things dotted the floor. Violet stood in the middle of the room, anger boiling inside her. Eventually, she let out a scream of rage, kicking the box labelled toiletries.

It took her a minute to calm down. In that minute she wrecked everything in sight. Boxes were torn, clothes were thrown around the room and the desk was kicked over. When her mother entered the room a few hours later, her heart broke at the sight of her room and the sight of her only daughter curled up on her unmade bed, her fingers emitting a dim fiery glow, dancing while they did so. Her mother wasn't exactly thrilled about moving either, but her husband told her it was necessary, that it would help them restart. Her mother would never say it, but she felt as if her husband didn't want to face the backlash of having a unique daughter.

"Sweetheart." her mother began softly. "Are you alright?"

Violet nodded, the glow fading from her fingers. "Yeah, I'm better."

"Dad is sorry for what he said, he truly is."

Her daughter glanced at her. "Then why didn't he come up and say it himself?"

Her mother scratched the back of her head. "He had to be called to the office." Violet let out an angered scoff, causing her mother to sit next to her. "Which gave me the idea to maybe meet and greet the neighbours."

Flipping over to look at her mother directly, Violet raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, I've heard she has a kid your age. Perhaps you could become friends."

Violet thought about it for a moment, then the thought of them freaking out about her eyes made her shake her head. "They'll be afraid of me, everyone already is."

"Then we'll be quick." her mother paused for a second before leaning closer. "To be honest, I just want a bit of girl talk, can you at least give me that?"

Lips curling up to the sides were the only answer her mom needed because she hopped off the bed, lifting Violet up with her. "I'm sure I've got a bottle of wine downstairs. It can be the ice breaker."

Her mom was talking to herself at this point, but Violet couldn't help but smile. Her mom was always one for get togethers. Her mother was the model hostess. Getting into this house and getting to know the family would be easy for her.

Violet, on the other hand, that would be a little more difficult.

xXx

It took two knocks at the door for a very tired looking neighbour answer the door. A little girl in a fairy costume was clinging to her leg. Violet pressed her lips together to silence the "aww" she would said in response to the girls attire. She used to dress like that when she was six.

"Can I help you?" said the tired mother.

"Hi," Violets mother chirped. "We are new to the neighbourhood and was wondering if you liked to share a bottle of wi-"

"Yes, come in! Please!"

Both Jones women were a little surprised at her quick reply, but her mother recovered earlier than Violet. "Great!" she entered the household, brushing her feet against the carpet before following the neighbour to the kitchen. Violet copied her actions, cleaning her shoes on the carpet that should've read Welcome!, but instead had a big black thick burn line in the centre of it, cutting the word in half. Now it just read We me!

"My name's Magda Maximoff," their neighbour introduced, setting two wine glasses on the table. "this here is Lorna." the little girl was in the corner, waving her wand around. "And my son- Peter!"

There was silence for a while before a loud, "What?" was heard.

"Get up here and meet the new neighbours!"

A groan was heard before the slam of a door. Violet took her attention away for two minutes and before she knew it, Peter was already upstairs and in the kitchen. Her eyes widened, her brow furrowing. His appearance startled her. Not in a bad way, but in an odd way. His shoes and jacket were a metallic silver colour, his t shirt was a tribute to Pink Floyd and the most odd thing about him was hair, his poofy grey-silver hair. It put her eyes to shame.

"This is Peter, my loving son."

Peter smiled sarcastically, "Yeah, yeah." he walked right to the fridge, about an arms length from where Violet was standing, or really, shuffling. With a chocolate chip cookie in his hand, he closed the fridge, catching eyes with Violet. "What?"

Violet blinked herself out of her trance. She was staring.

Oh god, she was staring!

"Uh, sorry. I just-" Violet struggled to come up with the words of her excuse, so instead resorted to smiling awkwardly, adverting her eyes. "I'm Violet."

The side of Peter's mouth curled into a smirk. "Peter."

Her mother chuckled. "Nice to meet you, Magda. I'm Daisy Jones, and that is my daughter Violet."

"Hi!" Lorna waved.

Violet giggled at the girl. "I suppose you're a fairy princess?"

The little girl shook her head, offended. "Heck, no! I'm a warrior fairy!"

Lorna flew away, her fake fairy wings batting behind her. The brunette brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, kicking at the break in between the tiles in the kitchen floor. As the two mothers talked about the latest news, Peter cleared his throat. "So," he started. "This is boring."

He got a slow nod in response. "Wanna go down to the basement? I got a TV down there."

The girl smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Sure."

"Cool! Mom, we're going down to the basement, don't try and annoy us. K, bye!" He unlocked the basement door, not waiting to hear his mother's reply and jumped the stairs two at a time, Violet lagging behind.

The basement, or Casa De Peter, as he called it, was very cool indeed. Every tech product on the market was on some surface or another. His bed looked like a marshmallow, and the prize item was a Pong arcade machine. Littering the floor were Twinkie and Ding Dong wrappers, Ice Pop sticks and of course, the teenage staple for every bedroom, socks and shoes.

"What organised chaos." Violet said to herself as she held up a day old Twinkie wrapper.

Peter cringed at the mess. "Yeah, sorry about that. Moms been nagging me about it for ages."

"I wonder why." said the brunette offhandedly, her attention focused on studying her surroundings. Her face screwed up in disgust as she noticed the amount of Hostess boxes stacked up.

"What?" he asked, noticing her disgust.

"Who likes Twinkies that much?"

"What? They're delicious."

"Yeah, and full of sugar."

Peter gave her a look. "And that's a bad thing?"

Violet raised an eyebrow, turning to see all the radios and vinyl tracks. "Good taste in music." she commented, flipping over a Beatles record.

"It's basically my pride and joy."

"I bet."

Done with snooping around, Violet sat on the couch, curling her legs under her. She bit the inside of her lip as the two teenagers struggled to break the awkward silence. "Wanna play Pong?"

Violet agreed and three seconds later he had the machine booted up and ready to play. "Just so you know, I will beat you." Peter challenged, getting ready.

The mutant girl scoffed. "Prepare to eat your words, dude."

(Long story short, she gets her ass handed to her 20-34, not one of her proudest moments. The guy is like lightning!)

"That's it?!" she cries at the machine, staring at it in disbelief.

"Man, I should've put money on that."

"No, come on, rematch, lets go." She waited a moment for him to start the game back up, but stood up straighter when she noticed him staring at her. "Come on."

"Sorry, it's just-I just noticed your eyes."

Violets aforementioned eyes widened comically. Crap, she had forgotten to hide them. "I-"

If Violet had been paying attention to him, then she would've seen Peters smile grow soft. "It's not a bad thing. I think you should embrace them, too be honest."

Violet saw her reflection in the arcade screen, saw the orange irises gazing back. "I look ridiculous."

"Preaching to the choir, dude. I mean, you are talking to a guy with silver hair - genetic silver hair, but hey, never stopped me. I colour coordinate now."

Violet's brow furrowed. "You're an odd one, Peter."

"Could say the same for you, Violet."

"Violet!" Her mother called out to her. "It's time to go."

Violet exhaled, getting off the stool and grabbing her hoodie. Peter sighed, thinking he had ruined his chances of actually making a friend "Nice meeting you." Peter mumbled, too busy occupying himself with another game against the computer.

This guy seemed like a dick, and a slob, but every time they talked she found herself comfortable with him, more comfortable than she was with anyone in her life right now. As she climbed the stairs she thought about his silver hair, his genetic silver hair.

At the top of the stairs she stopped, turning back to shout down. "I still want that rematch."

"It's on." he said a moment later, a smile heard in his voice.

Maybe she wasn't so different after all.

xXx

Disclaimer(that I forgot to put in the last chapter whoops): I do not own anything related to X-Men or Marvel or 20th Century Fox. I only own my OC Violet Jones and her non movie plot lines.

A/N: So, I have the next 3 chapters prewritten, so I'll try and get them up when I can. Reviews and feedback are appreciated!

See you next chapter! - E