Le Chat et Le Serpent

Chapter 57: The Most Beautiful Lost Boy

Don't you know that you're everything I have?

And I, want to live, not just survive, tonight

And I'm gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight

Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab

Rattling ice cacophonied Luka's anxious shaking knee. Through the plane window, the Eiffel Tower appeared to grow with each second. His departure was fueled by impulse and gusto, enervated from too many months away; he'd forgotten to consider how his return would conspire.

Flustered at the assumed decline of Adrien's well-being, he solely considered the relief that would finally wash over his Prettyboy. He had actively refrained from dwelling on the toll that separating him from Plagg would have; though this thought always fought to resurface when he realised it could be the sole time he would actually get to see Adrien, as himself, again. If he took Plagg himself, could he call on a Second Chance? Declare his romantic tragedy only to erase the man's memory?

Which was more selfish, to see him one last time or to never get lost within his jaded eyes again?

Initially, he thought he would leave for only a couple of weeks and show up at his door. He'd shower him with adoration and solutions. Now, all he carried back with him was devastation.

Luka hadn't even taken a moment to plan where he would stay. Did he have anywhere he could call home besides Adrien? Would he survive Anarka and Juleka's wrath if he returned to The Liberty ? Perhaps staying at a hotel would be the ideal choice...

There was no doubt on where he wanted to be. To visit Adrien one last time before suffering an instrumental divide, before the darkness was released, before he took his final breaths.

Deeply exhaling, he gathered up his belongings. The next two days, or the last days of his life, were going to be gruelling.

To keep Adrien safe, maybe the best option would be a hotel. With a bar. That way I won't have to risk a midnight wander falling to the siren of gemstone eyes.

Tugging at his shirt collar he strove to centre himself, but he already felt like he was dipping into a dream.

Tomorrow, he will ignite the rebellion. Tonight, all he wanted was a feigned moment of normalcy.

Stepping onto the street, the lights seemed to flicker; his body moved of its own accord.

Bright streets fade to blind ebony

Familiar places distort to strange

Helpless

As my consciousness begins to slip

Limbs severed; ignorant to thought

Wade deeper into the uncanny

Powerless

As I meekly drown within her chasm

Sanity has no home for me; I'm lost in the waves of the perilous black sea

Aggressively nailing down the loose floorboard that had been hidden under the couch, Adrien finally prepared to say goodbye. He ran his finger along the box that was hidden below; it was time to finally let go.

There were certain methods that Adrien had implemented to evade the endless aches and plagues that inhibited his day to day life. He did not fully comprehend the spell he was under, but he had become proficient at experimenting with how to survive under constant control. If he dutifully obeyed Marinette, he would not bleed or black out. He'd acquiesced to her imposed isolation; he informed her of each phone call and never buzzed anyone into his apartment (at least, not himself directly); he maintained the secrecy she requested. Everything else tended to consist of general one off requests; these were simpler to abide by, his body would often move of its own accord. But there was always one command that hovered out of his grasp of comprehension.