"You are my Princess, Marinette. You know that. Don't ever forget it!"
They say that words can change lives, but for Marinette, an ordinary Parisian college student, she finds that difficult to believe.
Chat Noir, half of Paris' favourite crime figh...
Very trigger warning The dresses were complete and her time was free and her memories were pouring from her mind in silvery droplets of salt water spilling from her eyes. She no longer and to worry about getting blood on the dresses, they were safely away from her wrath. She needed to break something and the only choice was her skin. That way she wasn't damaging anything or anyone else. And only she had to know. And it was so easy, and she knew it would bring her back to reality, a place slipping from her grasp. The pain anchors you to reality, see, so it's easy to do because you can focus on the sharp clarity it brings, not the fear and sadness surrounding you. She heard gentle peals of happiness drift up to her room from somebody outside and brought the blade down to her wrist. She grinned as she felt the slash of metal on her skin, and the tiny crimson droplets that came. As she prepared to repeat this, a black figure appeared and took the blade away from her. "No, Marinette, for goodness sake!" The voice was a mixture of Stella and Chat Noir- Chat Noir. It was her fault he was upset, a harsh sob bubbled up through her chest and she shrieked, taking one sharp nail to her skin. A soft but firm grip lifted her hands away from each other. "No!" The voice repeated. "Marinette, look at me." The figure pushed her head up to look in his face, but she couldn't distinguish who it was through the blur of her tears. As they bubbled down her skin, a gentle touch brushed the salt water away from her cheeks. After blinking a couple of times, her vision was cleared and she could make out the features of the man in front of her. "Marinette, why are you doing this to yourself?" He asked. "Adrien?" She asked, confused, her hands shaking with fatigue, emotional and physical. "Who made you feel this way?" He asked frantically, searching her eyes. "No, no, he didn't do it." She said, her sentences not entirely understandable, let alone making sense in context of his questions. "Who?" Adrien insisted. "No, it was me! I hurt him, I made him cry!" She hissed, the words practically burning her tongue. "Who?" "Chat Noir!" She said, as if she should have known. "Chat Noir? The superhero? But, why were you with him?" "He said he loved me but I didn't love him because- because-" The realisation dawned, and a hint of anger flashed in her eyes. "Because I was still caught up on you! You did this, you made me hurt him! I don't love you! I- I love him!" Her vision flashed red and she lunged at him. "This is your fault!" "Marinette- I never meant to hurt you! I'm sorry, please calm down!" She leant back. "But he's right, of course. It isn't his fault. It's me. It's still all me. It's my fault. I shouldn't have let him take me out. I shouldn't have said that I didn't love him. It wasn't true, was it?" She turned to the man in front of her. "What should I have done? Did I love him? Or just the idea of him? Did I love you?" Adrien bit his lip. "Mari, I don't know. And I don't think you know, but you clearly need to rest a bit. You seem exhausted and you aren't making any sense. Go to sleep." "Why are you even here?" He hesitated. "Stella sent me." He said slowly. "She's worried about you." "No, no, she shouldn't be." She said, confused. "She's with Alya. They're happy. Not worried." "Just because she and Alya are together, doesn't mean they can't worry about you too. You mean a lot to a lot of people, Marinette." "If you say so." She pondered this, coming to the conclusion that it was utter nonsense. "I'm going to sleep. Or wait- should I show you out?" He shook his head and allowed her to climb into bed, pulling the covers over her. "Go to sleep, Mari. You'll feel better after a nap." He smiled and left the room. As she prepared to sleep, his words circled her mind. He was wrong of course. Not many people really loved her. Let alone herself.
unloved unwanted not by you by me I'm empty inside and you try to fill me up, but you can't and I can't and I need you and still I'm here alone in bed they think I'm sleeping but I can't not now, not ever because the thoughts, they hurt my head and I need you
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This is a crappy attempt to draw the dresses. Alya's is supposed to be two-tone layers but it doesn't look like a that oops. I like Marinette's though. Also, I'm loving writing these poems at the moment! I might do a bonus anthology at the end maybe. Finally, please continue entering my contest! I've had no edits so far, but two great one-shots. I've just finished writing the next chapter, but I'm going to try and upload every Wednesday, just so there's some semblance of pattern, I guess.
