The Princess and Her Cat

Ten

His face was still in my hands, my hips still in his. I was still against the wall, and I'm sure my face was bright red. I chewed on my lip, forming the words on the tip of my tongue, trying to get myself to say those three, miniscule words.

"Adrien?"

"Yeah, my lady?"

"I... I... I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead, then buried his face in my neck. He wrapped his arms around me then yawned. "Are you tired?" he asked.

I nodded, then pulled away. "Let me change into my pajamas."

Grabbing a pair of pajama pants, I stepped into the bathroom to change. My scars were scabbed and healing now, but I knew that they would never heal completely. I was branded. I belonged to whoever carved those words. He took my pride. He took my dignity. He took everything from me.

The bottle was on the counter. The bottle with the purple pills that could make it all go away.

I wouldn't have to worry about scars if I was dead. I wouldn't have to worry about anything. Everything would cease, and I would be enveloped in inky black, hiding my flaws. My imperfection. My brokenness.

I grabbed the bottle and stared at it. Simply stared, pondering the inevitable; death. Would I make mine a little sooner?

"Mari?" a gentle voice called. "Mari, are you okay?"

"Yes, mon chaton," I answered, putting down the bottle. I couldn't die tonight, I had a cat to take care of.

θθθθθθθ

A week passed uneventfully. Adrien, so far, came over every night just before bed, held me close and helped me to sleep, then went to school the following morning.

The pills still taunted me. I often felt alone and like the world would be better off without me.

But then I remembered Adrien; his gentle eyes, warm hands, sweet lips. I couldn't let him down. I couldn't just leave him. That would break him. And it broke me to think I could do that to anyone, let alone Adrien. It was then, a three weeks after I had been kidnapped, that I decided to go back to school.

My first day back, I had pulled my hair into a loose braid and worn the coziest sweater I could find; I wanted as much comfort as humanly possible. I saw the stares that followed me, the words being exchanged, the fingers pointing in my direction. I heard the snickers, the whispers, the few words of sympathy. I felt everyone's eyes follow me down the hall, tracing my stance and examining the bruises that were finally fading on my wrists. My skin crawled in apprehension, I didn't want to be here. I wanted to be at home, safely tucked into Adrien's side, where no one could find me.

But here I was, the bell ringing loudly, and while I was surrounded by people, I had never felt so alone.

I stepped into my first class, math. I sat behind Nino and Alya in the back row with Adrien, his kind eyes showing concern. He mouthed something to me, but I shook my head, dismissing his look. The teacher droned on and on about plotting points on a parabola, but my mind was far, far away. It was back in that cramped bedroom, words being carved into my stomach, my wrists chaffing against the headboard. I was trapped again, this time in my thoughts. I couldn't find my way out. There was nothing outside of these memories. They looped and blurred and swam together, and I could fill my hand twitching in the effort to contain everything. I was fine, I kept telling myself. Nothing could hurt me. But the images would not go away. They pounded behind my eyes, got stuck in my throat, and seared white hot through my veins. I was lost in an endless maze, horror blocking my escape.

"Marinette? Mari, come back to me." a gentle voice coaxed. I felt a hand on one of mine, and another brushing away tears. The memories faded away into black, then my vision returned, the first thing I saw was bright, beautiful, green eyes.

"I... I'm sorry, Adrien," I stuttered.

"No, no, no, don't be sorry," he whispered, a hint of pleading in his voice. "You did nothing wrong."

"But I disrupted class and caused a huge scene and--"

"Princess."

"What, mon chaton," I whispered.

"You didn't disrupt class. Mme. Freyré is still going on about parabolas. No one noticed a thing." Ripping my gaze from his, I noticed Mme. Freyré making notations on the board, thoroughly engrossed in teaching. No one even glanced at Adrien and I.

"Thank you," I murmured, pulling away. "I'm okay now." I wasn't. I would probably never be okay. But Adrien didn't need to know that his Ladybug was losing her wings.