The breath of the young woman wandered throughout the air, curiously lingering around her. Her midnight locks drifted in the light winds, bouts of air meticulously waving and intertwining around every strand. As the light wind whipped through, the pockets of air in between her medium-length tresses let out little whispers.
“Marinette!” The voice of a young woman called out to her, echoing through the moist air of the overcast day.
The woman, Marinette, diverted her attention towards the direction of the voice, “oh, it’s you Alya!” Her voice radiated with enthusiasm and glowed with joy, “how are you?”
“I’m fine, girl,” Alya beamed at Marinette, “I want to know about you though, it’s such a terrible day today, and you look out of it.”
Marinette frowned, “no, no! I’m completely ok Alya, it’s just I’m a bit tired from designing, you know the usual? I still need to work on my portfolio for the first few weeks of ESMOD, I’m preparing it right now so I can rest easy at the start of classes.” She replaced her concerned frown with a faux smile, which was carried out flawlessly.
She learned this a long time ago from a boy who escaped from her reach, gone from her world.
Alya, who was known to be one of Marinette’s closest friends could not pick up the hint of uneasiness in the lies that Marinette calmly said, instead opting to smile back at her, “that’s great Marinette, but I hope you’re not as clumsy with your classes as you were in our teenage years.”
A great smile was plastered on her porcelain face, meanwhile on the inside she was screaming in agony whilst being reminded of the blissful past. A thing she wanted to shove into the back of her mind or possibly even out of it for years. She wanted to be rough with it, but there was something in Marinette that wanted to caress it, keep it safe from harm. Her fragile memories were something she wanted to keep intact.
The incident left her bipolar over these memories. What happened long ago did not cease to haunt her. It spread throughout her like the plague, consuming her every being.
She was upset on the inside; she was content on the outside.
Thunder billowed overhead, and the white, overcast sky grew dark in sadness and anger. The way it looked as if it would burst into tears was an accurate representation of the way Marinette was feeling. Hopeless, worthless, and upset.
She couldn’t tell what started falling first, her tears or the rain, because Alya seemed to not notice. The journalist took her reside in the clouds, and when it began to rain it was too late for the auburn haired girl to notice the sadness on Marinette’s face.
“I knew it was a terrible day to come out…” Alya cursed under her breath before looking over at Marinette, “but I was looking for you, your parents told me you were out walking. So this is your fault girl!”
Marinette smiled, although she was truly dead inside. She was reminded of the faithful day they officially met, when she fell in love.
That love was dead.
Her mind rumbled and rambled on and on with all the thoughts and regrets she had. Alya did nothing to soothe her inner pain or dry off the eternal tears that were splattered and stained her cheeks. It wasn’t like she could do anything anyway, she didn’t know, no one knew. There was only slight comfort while Alya escorted her home.
“I hope you don’t come down with a cold.” Alya noticed her reddened eyes, and began to worry, “you don’t look very good, are you cold?”
“No, I’m perfectly fine!” She plastered on her smile that had been a regular for four years. Marinette was cold. Eternally cold.
“Looks like we’re here!” Alya cheered, not caring that she was completely drenched in water, “I’ll be off, don’t worry about me, I’ll get home soon. What you really need to do is get home and take a shower.”
“If I can’t worry about you, worry about yourself Alya.” Marinette playfully rolled her eyes at her best friend, “now get home!”
“Alright, alright!” Alya giggled at her friend, “Now you go inside!”
Marinette followed suit, “bye Al.”
The door shut.
She was lucky that her parents were in the bakery and not near the apartment door, for she broke down in tears. “Why did you have to leave me?” She whispered in agony, “why did you have to go? You could have told me…”
Her tears fell on the hardwood of the outside of the family apartment, “you really wanted to keep it a secret, huh?” Her hands shook as she reached inside her coat pocket to find a tattered photo of a blond teenager.
She quivered as she slowly brought it close enough to see the boy clearly.
“It’s been exactly four years.”
“Where are you Adrien Agreste?”