07 ; make me feel

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Marinette's POV

It took her up past midnight to fix the strings. She's not a professional, and that fact really annoys her.

Marinette rolls in her bed, reaching up to get the ringing phone. There are already four missed calls from Alya, and she's definitely awake now. It rings again, and she wastes no time to answer it.

"Alya, why so early?" She says groggily, throat still dry from exhaustion. She rubs her eyelids before sitting up and kicking the blanket, causing it to fall on the floor.

"Girl, no excuses, get dressed, you're treating me out."

"What, why?"

"Because you owe me an explanation."

The line drops, and being on the line between falling asleep and being awake does not help with her confusion.

She has no other choice, though. Alya's a persistent woman, and at this rate, she'd get pulled out of the house in her pajamas, and it's cold outside.

She puts on a pair of leggings under a denim skirt falling just above her knees, then a long-sleeved white silk shirt before topping that with a beige trench coat. She grabs her pearl earrings, a pair of heels, and her handmade shoulder bag before kissing her parents and taking a croissant from the tray on the table.

Before she can wonder where the other is, she's scared to death by a hug from the aforementioned best friend.

"I don't need an explanation on why you're friends with Adrien because I know you're not lesbian, but why didn't you tell me?"

"Like he'll live after I do. He's nothing like those other guys," she says, following the girl on the bus.

"I know that, girl. He's best friends with Nino. I'm sure he'll never be like those dicks."

"So, do I still need to treat you out?" She hesitantly asks before she taps her bus pass, and there's no backing out.

"Yes," and that settles it.

"You're gonna love their new decor."

There, at the center, mannequins in various poses and white flamingos surround the fountain, leaving her breathless.

"Close your mouth, girl. We're taking a picture," and she tries to do as she's told.

Soon, they're at their favorite cafe, ready to order the newest best-seller: strawberry mint-flavored crème bavarois that brings nothing but utter bliss.

"You don't know how much I love spending time with you," she says, taking a sip of her iced tea.

Her hand jerks at a shock, causing her to drop the bottle - thankfully closed - and making Alya smile sadly.

"You know, you're going to be alright, yeah?" She doesn't answer.

She can't help it. The dizziness, nowadays, is far scarier than it was before, so in the middle of practice, she finally allows herself a break.

"Eat first before you take these. There's also some aspirin. Then we'll take your blood pressure afterward," her mother says before handing her the still-steaming-hot French toast and all-too-familiar pills.

"You're the second one to say that today," she barely whispers before taking a bite of the toast, praying her performance tomorrow would, at least, turn out great.

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