These are just snippets of Darcys' life from my brain. But in different spots. I got a snippet from modern stuff, the regency, the proper book, my Like recognizes like story. It just Darcy struggling through life.

This js Darcy in regency time in a boarding school at like 14 year old.

Darcy sat in his seat, near a wall, three rows back. He was early and quietly reading. He didn't like trying to navigate through the noise of the other boys, and walking across the room with everyone's eyes on him was tortuous. So he showed up early and kept as invisible as he could, burying himself in "The King of the Golden River."

The teacher, Mr. Smith wondered in, but neither spoke a greeting. Darcy was too engrossed in his story, and the teacher knew the shyness of the boy. He was Darcy's favorite teacher.

Soon, the cacophony of the other boys echoed down the hall. Darcy felt a little secure in his space with the words from his book distracting him from the bustle.

Then, his favorite bounced through the door. His red hair made him easy to spot and every other boy seemed to be friends with him. He always wandered in a crowd of friends.He called all the boys by name and sat in the middle of the room, two rows up from the back.

"Bingley!" one shouted as a trio rushed to his desk. Darcy's eyes were brought over to the happy group. They chatted together, bringing others into the conversation. Bingley spoke animatedly and enthusiastically to everyone. He looked fun to talk to. Suddenly, Bingley looked in his direction.

"Hey Darcy! How's your book? It's different from yesterday," he smiled, causing a handful of other boys to look over at him as well. Darcy felt nerves shoot through the roof, and a hot blush eclipse his face. "Yes," he said tightly, "is gew– I mean it's new and it's good." God, why was he stupid?

"Gew," one boy sniggered.

"Alright boys, take your seats," Mr. Smith said. Darcy felt like falling through the wall and possibly leaving England. Gew? He brought his hand up and leaned his head on it, tilting his head to stare at the wall. He couldn't even listen to Mr. Smith and only pretended to take notes.

After an eternity, class ended, and Darcy nearly launched from his seat to get away from everyone.

"Mr. Darcy, will you wait just a moment?" Mr. Smith asked quickly. Darcy looked curiously at him and slid to hide–stand behind the desk.

"Mr. Bingley, you as well." The other boys laughed and pushed on Bingley, who smiled at them and walked to lean on the desk.

"What did you do, Darcy?" he laughed good naturedly. Darcy shrugged and tried to think of something clever but forgot words. The room soon emptied, and Mr. Smith soon had to close the door as well. Students kept waving at Bingley, who got distracted waving back. Mr. Smith came around to pull out some papers as soon as the distractions were mitigated.

"Mr. Bingley, your marks are falling, but I know you're smarter than this." Bingley turned red as he looked at the papers on the desk. Darcy wondered why he was here in what was surely embarrassing to Bingley.

"I'll try to do better, sir," Bingley said, "but I can hardly focus on the reading. I can hardly remember what I read."

"I thought that might be the case," Mr. Smith smirked, "that's why I asked Mr. Darcy to stay behind. I wondered since you get the reading done so early, could you help Mr. Bingley with the work?"

Darcy felt a thrill at the praise, but nerves at being close to his favorite, who seemed to be everyone's favorite. Could he handle the attention by just sitting next to Bingley?

"Would you Darcy? I would definitely appreciate the help!" the boy said excitedly. Darcy looked carefully at Bingley. This was his chance!

"Sure," he said with a shrug and felt angry at himself. Why couldn't he have been more animated? But he felt shy at the idea of expressing his excitement.

"Thanks!" Bingley said as the teacher also thanked him.

"Why don't you both try to meet twice or thrice a week? Or whatever works out. And let me know if it works, or if we need to try something else," Mr. Smith said, eyeing them both.

"I'm sure it will! Darcy reads, like, two books a week!" Bingley said happily as he started to walk out from the classroom. Mr. Smith eyed Darcy carefully, before giving him a wink. Darcy felt another blush and ducked his head as he walked out.

"Well Darce? Can we start soon? Mr Smith likes to give surprise quizzes, and I hate them," Bingley said. Darcy coughed a laugh at his truthful bluntness.

"Sure, where did you leave off?"

"Oh I don't remember. I know I opened the book, but it may as well have been blank."

"So–?"

"So, nothing. I remember nothing," he said with an uncomfortable laugh. Darcy frowned. His favorite didn't read. How could he not read? What could they talk about? How could they be friends? Darcy felt disappointed.

"Ah, don't look down your nose at me. I can do other things, but I don't like sitting like I'm dead doing nothing when the outside is so nice," Bingley said, waving his hand dismissively at Darcy.

Darcy was surprised. The son of a tradesman shouldn't throw away his connection. He would have to work for Bingleys approval. Something deep within him liked that for some reason. He liked the outdoors, so did Darcy.

"I like the outdoors too," Darcy said.

"OK, can you tell me about the book while we fish?" Bingley said. Darcy grinned at that. It was a marvelous idea.