Feeling Blue ( Marc x Nathaniel )

2- Fake plastic world

I never knew what sound a tree made when it fell in an calm forest. The forest in my head has always been noisy and full of anxious thoughts.

Let's be honest, the fact that the city of Paris got rid of the akumas since a year was truly relieving. I wonder at which cost it was, but it's none my business. Of course, problems still happen in this big city, but Ladybug is always here to protect us. To be honest, I don't really want to write my biggest novel about her.

I take some time with Nath to water our plants before giving him a mere smile to wish him a good night. The few plants in my room seems to be living fine among all the papers that litter the floor. I always have to be careful to get to my bed or... Dang, I slipped again. Luckily, my head didn't hit any furniture corner. While I rub my head, I hear Nath rushing before opening the door.

« Marc ! Are you okay ? You felt again ? Don't tell me you are bleeding, please !
- N...No. Sorry, I should really clean this place...
- Yeah, maybe... Maybe a bit. »

Nath takes a little glance at my room while I'm getting up. Ill-at-ease, I'm kind of sure that he is judging me. Of course, he doesn't say anything about my choice of posters or my clothes hanging out of my wardrobe, he just smiles at me as he always do. He should really stop, he knows that makes my face redden.

« You'll have all the time you want this weekend, anyway. Good night, and be careful, please !
- Thanks Nath... Nathaniel. Sleep well ! »

Of course, I forgot that. Tomorrow is Saturday. We don't have courses on Saturday. I will be able to start writing this story ! I already have a mere idea, maybe I should start to write it down right now while it's still in my head. I take one of my unused notebooks, go to my desk, take a pencil and start writing. Just a bit, pinky promise.

I always start by writing a prompt. « A long time ago, a writer and a painter fell in love together while working for a tyrannous king »... Come on Marc, you can be less obvious than this. « A knight has to fight terrible monsters to deliver the prince of his country, but fells in love with his beauty »...Dammit ! I throw the crumpled ball of paper behind my shoulder. Am I not able to write anything else than my feelings for him ?

I take a deep breath. Maybe that's how it should be. Some writers became very famous by putting some of themselves into their stories. Maybe I should not write a prompt or anything else. I take a new page and start to write, without stopping my hand.

« Everything always seems strange at one point in our life. The world, the people, the way life works, the good or bad events that destiny settles for us, it seems that nobody can decides that. That's a common thing to think, because nobody is really aware that what makes our world spin is the imagination of one powerful being.

Before being powerful, this entity was just a mere person, just like you and I. In a time where nobody knew what creating a whole world in their head was, a young man always had his nose stuck in his notebooks. He was not really good at anything, he could even barely walk without tripping on something on the floor, so he decided to write, write and write what his thoughts were about. Oh, of course, he was self-conscious about his strangeness. He was even cursing himself multiple times a day for being even alive.

He lived by himself in the village, almost never leaving his house. Well, not really a house, it was just one room decaying a bit. It was nice for him, anyway, he felt like a ghost in this place. Nobody really liked him.