I'm always here for you

2 - Stairwell

Marinette's POV

Adrien's late today. That's not like him; he's usually very punctual, unlike me. As the clock ticks slowly, I tap my foot impatiently, wondering if something's wrong. It's his birthday, and I want to give him his present before I chicken out. 

When he finally walks in, my face lights up. His bracelet is a different colour than yesterday... wow, he must have entire collection at home. I wave to him and immediately blush, but when he waves back, he doesn't match my energy. His eyes are sad.

I try so hard to listen to what our teacher is saying, but I'm too busy worrying about Adrien to pay attention. I want to ask him if he's okay... hopefully the words will come out right. 

About halfway through the class, when our homework has already been assigned, Adrien asks to go to the bathroom. The teacher allows him, but says to hurry back.

When he doesn't return for over ten minutes, Mme. Bustier asks for someone to check on him.

"Marinette can do it!" Alya exclaims, pushing me out of my seat. I fall off the bench with a squeal, not ready for her intervention.

Everyone is laughing, and I grin along with them. I guess it was pretty funny.

Chloe stands up, infuriated. "Hey! Sit down, Dupain-Cheng! I'll go to the bathroom to look for Adrikins; I'm sure he'd rather see me than a cockroach."

"Well, Chloe, you can go to the bathroom," Mme. Bustier says. "But not to look for Adrien. I think you need to wash your mouth out with soap for that dirty nickname you called Marinette."

More laughter. I look up at Mme. Bustier, and she's smiling. She makes eye contact with me, and winks.

I get up and head for the door. I start thinking about what I'm going to say to Adrien. 

"Oh, h-hi, Adrien! I not see you're okay," I practice. "I mean! I see not you're--argh! Get a grip, Mari! You're sixteen years old!" 

As soon as I'm done scolding myself, I hear something.

Is someone... crying? I think. I follow the sniffles, until I find the person I had set out to look for.

"A-Adrien?" 

Damn it. I stuttered.

He looks up at me with a fearful expression. 

"M-Marinette?" he says, his lips trembling. Well, that makes two of us.

"What's the matter?" I ask him, sitting down beside him. He's curled up on the ground, his knees pulled into his chest, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I—uh, s-sorry," he chokes, turning his head and hugging himself tighter. 

Why is he apologizing? He didn't do anything wrong. 

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"N-no. I don't think so."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He hesitates, as if trying to decide how to word his feelings. 

"My mom,"  he whispers. "She disappeared three years ago... on my birthday."

"That's horrible," I say. "Uh... happy birthday, by the way."

He doesn't respond to that. I'm guessing he doesn't associate his birthday with a time to celebrate.

Adrien's face scrunches up again. I move in closer to give him a hug. 

"I'm always here for you, no matter how alone you feel. Remember that."

He breathes in shakily. After a moment, he rests his head on my shoulder. As he leans into me, I notice that the dye from his red leather bracelet is leaking down his arm. That's odd. 

I pull away slightly. I reach for his wrist so I can take a closer look, but but as soon as I touch the cuff, he flinches and retracts his hand to his chest. 

"Adrien?" 

"It's, uh... just a fencing injury." 

Maybe I'd believe him if he didn't look so scared. 

"Can I see?" 

He shakes his head. 

"Please?"

He averts his gaze and lowers his tightly clenched fist. I take off his bracelet, revealing a total of five slices; two of them are scabbed over, but three are leaking blood.

Well, that can't be good.