I AM BACK IN THE GAME!
For those of my Rosettes who are still around... I AM SORRY I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG. For new readers... welcome! I bring you a brand new fanfiction, Miraculous Ladybug! I got into this show only two weeks ago and I am just complete trash for it. For those of you wondering where I've been. For those of you who don't care... just skip ahead. I won't be mad.
Many things happened and I basically got wound up in fling after fling with men... with all the wrong guys for all the wrong reasons, and a couple of them in very much potentially dangerous situations. After my relationship ended in Dec 2013 I really went off the rails and kinda just didn't know what to do. So I turned to partying and drinking and flirting and... other things... Anyway. That brought me to a stop when in Oct 2014 I recieved a call one of my best friends passed away after a long battle with muscular dystrophy. As you can imagine I was a wreck and one of my friends at work reached out to me and... I saw him in a new way. And now I am happy to report we have been dating for almost a year and a half and we move in together in 1 week!
There were other things that happened in there, with college graduation, getting my mom out of an abusive relationship, being diagnosed with depression... it's been hectic. But I am back in the writing game and I am here with a brand new story!
I am not perfect. I type really fast and I read pretty fast so I don't always catch typos. I pride myself on using grammar correctly but that doesn't always happen the way I want. So do not before afraid to tell me if you find any errors at all!
Also I have been to Paris and I do attempt to incorporate some of my knowledge into the story... but it's been 4 years since I've been and I don't know too terribly much but I am so sorry if I get anything wrong. Onwards to the story!
One step onto the pavement outside the Charles de Gaulle airport evaporated the next breath she let out. She was back. After three years abroad, she was back in her childhood city of Paris, France. After the events she had left behind just a few years ago, it was necessary for her healing to get away, but it would be something of a lie if she said she had not yearned for the bustle around Paris city and the smells of various food as she window shopped through the Champs Elysees. America was a true experience she found both revolting and enticing, and a piece of her heart remained. But Paris was home. No other place could hold the beauty of the artistic structures and romantic architecture that was Paris. Nothing felt so good as to breath that air once-
"Hey!" she screamed out, as a dirty puddle slapped back at her ankles. Some rude driver yelled at her not to stand too close to the road while Bridgette Lemieux brushed off the front of her faded black wash jeans. Okay, so perhaps she had romanticized it a little, but it was hard to do after such a long period of time away from the hometown she reluctantly left. She moaned at the feel of her soggy jeans, sticking to her shins and scoffed. She thought she remembered Parisians to be a little nicer than this. Really, they were just the same as Americans.
"Mademoiselle Lemieux?" greeted the most professional looking woman Bridgette had ever seen. She was dressed in a tight black business suit, complete with a blazer and dress slacks. Her glasses were thick rimmed and spoke of a no-nonsense, highly educated woman. However, there was a red streak in her charcoal hair, pulled tight into a ball behind her head that made Bridgette wonder if she had a secret rebellious side she couldn't let out other than her hair.
"Uh… Nathalie, I presume?" Bridgette formally addressed. Nathalie gave her a small smile and gestured for her to hand over the large red rolling suitcase she had been dragging behind her. Bridgette obliged and followed the woman to a limo, noticing she had the most perfect stance to ever exist on anyone in the world. Still, she carefully walked towards the vehicle, taking a moment to look around her before ducking into the vehicle, noting the door was being held open for her by a slender, but built, silent bodyguard. Once seated, Nathalie made the way around the other side of the limo to sit next to Bridgette. Thick silence suffocated them as Bridgette desperately tried to think of something to say. Since she had left Paris, the only person she ever received word from was Adrien, so these people felt like strangers to her. Nathalie was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't recall her being so… professional before. After what Adrien had said, it concerned her about how Gabriel would react when he saw her… especially after his wife…
"Adrien is enthusiastically expecting your return," Nathalie said, tapping away at a laptop she had rested in front of her. Bridgette patted the wet spot left by the puddle splash on her dark jeans. "I expect you two have many things you wish to discuss. I shall reserve a table for you at Allard for dinner."
"No, no, no," Bridgette protested, taking her eyes away from the pedestrians who were moving to and fro across the landscape before her window. "Please, not the Allard. I don't want a huge fuss made, please." Last she had heard, the Allard was serving some of the strange, old-fashioned dishes that perhaps the Agreste family was used to, but she had never developed the taste for it herself. "Something a little…. Simpler, maybe?"
"Very well. Table for two at the… Mon Vieil Ami." Nathalie began to punch in the numbers on her phone.
"No, no, please that's still too gourmet. Can't we do something a little more… common?" Nervously, she twisted her chestnut hair into a lackadaisical plait.
"Common?" Nathalie questioned. "I am sure Mr. Agreste-"
"Is not my father. He doesn't control me or do as I say."
"As long as you are in his care-"
"The deal with Gabriel was that I remain low key and avoid standing out too much. I left Paris to avoid getting too involved with the press and the media and this whole fashion empire Gabriel is running and I still refuse to get involved." Nathalie sighed in defeat and then nodded, tucking her phone away.
"Very well. What would you suggest?"
"There's a large kitchen with gourmet chefs and a dining room with a large table. Why can't we have a dinner at home while we catch up?" Nathalie sighed once more, although it was less in annoyance and more with thought. Perhaps she was thinking of how Mr. Agreste would react. Satisfied, Bridgette looked back out the window, taking in the sights of the Paris she had missed while the limo wound around the city. She caught a good look of the Arc de Triomphe as they circled around it. She peered into the Seine as they crossed a bridge, and she watched lovers, families, and friends chat and walk. Some tourists, some residents. The sun played with its rays casting onto the streets and faces and it was hard to see anything but the way everything seemed to glow. Paris, C'est magnifique!
With the center of the city behind them, it wasn't long before the limo pulled in between the opening of the wrought iron gates that stood before the chateau de Agreste. A home that seemed to have grown in size since the last time Bridgette had seen it. Even as she was older and taller, the steps leading up towards the heavy double doors still intimidated her. Among the buildings and residencies that surrounded it and blocked it in, how was she supposed to keep her head low by staying there? Especially with an ostentatious face of the finest art deco and the roofs of varying sizes and shape. It stuck out like a sore thumb, as she had heard the Americans say. It had a wonderful prime view of the Eiffel Tower… but if she was being honest, nighttime was the only time it was a spectacle. Then it was all lit up. During the day, it really just appeared to be a bunch of rusted metal riveted together.
Still, it was good to see images around her of home once again, and when the door open and she stepped out, she forgot about her soaked pants for a minute to take in the familiar air. She buzzed when let it sink in that she was back. A weird, giddy feeling rose up and made her feel light with glee. Three years was far too long.
The driver removed her luggage from the back and pulled it along for her as Nathalie led her up the steps. Bridgette's mouth wouldn't close. She stared agape at the professionally kept lawn and the high reaching wall that enclosed the mansion from the rest of the world. It seemed to have gotten higher in that last few years, Bridgette noted. She didn't think it was that tall when Mrs. Agreste had been alive. However, the wall was quickly forgotten when she stepped inside. The floor beneath her shone so brilliantly, it could have been a mirror and made the black design inlay in the floor pop out even more. It was almost a floral damask design, and helped pull in the black accents alongside the windows and creeping round the walls. There was a gentle touch of color in the red spiked plants that sat on either side of the doors. The walls and staircase gleaned as if they were chiseled out of marble, and the ceiling was higher than most apartment buildings were tall. A simple whisper was echoed across the vast entryway and shot towards the man standing at the top of the ascending staircase in front of her. Behind him hung a massive painting of Adrien and him.
"Gabriel," Bridgette said, smiling. Despite what she had been told by Adrien over the past few years, she still couldn't help the way her heart swelled with elation when she saw him.
"Bridgette," he greeted emotionlessly. "I am glad to see you arrived mostly intact." His eyes felt to the hem of her jeans, which were still noticeably damp. She looked down and awkwardly chuckled. It was a little embarrassing for a fashion designer to notice her clothes were a mess. "I'll have Nathalie show you to your room and you can change into something drier. You decided to not go to dinner this evening?"
"No, sir. I simply wanted to sit down to dinner… the three of us."
"Hmm. Yes, well I'll have the cooks prepare something for us… perhaps a confit de canard?" Before she could even answer, he had turned back around. Mr. Agreste had always been intimidating when he looked down at her with those large blue eyes but he seemed far more stoic than usual and rather cold. Bridgette frowned as Nathalie led her up the stairs and around the hallways. She watched the décor on the walls as she passed them; many paintings which she was sure were originals, and priceless pieces of art. As well as fashion magazine cover after fashion magazine cover. Mr. Agreste took pride in his fashion company and seemed to enjoy displaying that success around his home. She did also find the occasional family photo, and some just with Mr. and Mrs. Agreste in them. Some of just Adrien. Some with Adrien and his mother. And then there was one single picture in the center of it all of simply Mrs. Agreste, wearing a long flowing dress and looking as radiant as she always was. Bridgette's heart sunk.
"Here we are," Nathalie said, pushing open a door at the end of the hall. The bedroom was bigger than the entire common area of the boarding school Bridgette attended in America. An entire family could probably live in the area alone. At that moment, she was struck with a painful culture shock. Her chest clenched with guilt at everything that surrounded her in the room – a king sized bed adorned with the softest teal cover, and probably made of the finest fabric. Walls painted an ombre of white and teal, falling darker from ceiling to floor. A cherry wood bookcase that was intricately designed and probably handmade, with a desk to match. There was a 60 inch flat screen on the wall that Bridgette coughed at seeing. It felt like it was overkill. There was a Neo-Victorian lavender chaise in the corner, and the doors in the corner opened to a closet that could hold an entire apartment in it. Bridgette felt she was beginning to lose her breathe at the largeness of the area. Nathalie looked at her sideways, appearing concerned. Then there was the bathroom, which was much the same size as the closet. Blinding white and sparkling clean of course. The shower took half the room, and there was even a Jacuzzi in the other corner. And of course, the toilet, the hand dryer, the soap… everything was automatic. "I hope you will find everything to your satisfaction. Adrien said you still liked lavender and teal, correct?"
"Yes, Nathalie. Thank you, it's a very nice room."
"I suspect it will be a couple of hours before dinner. So take your time, settle in, and unpack. Maybe find something nice to wear for dinner and… welcome back home, Miss Lemieux."
"Bridgette," she corrected her as she watched Mr. Agreste's assistant prepare to close the door behind her whilst leaving. Nathalie paused. "Er, I mean… Please, Nathalie. Call me Bridgette. If I am to be living here then you should call me Bridgette."
"Of course… Glad to have you Bridgette." Nathalie gave her the slightest of smiles before quietly letting the door close. Bridgette moaned for a long while as she collapsed on the bed. Despite having grown up around this luxurious life, she had grown more accustomed to the simpler life in America. She wasn't sure she was ready to be thrown back into the thick of things. It just felt suffocating.
Bridgette threw open her overstuffed suitcase that had been left and sifted through it to find something even moderately suitable for a nicer dinner. The last time she had duck was probably in Paris, three years ago. Pushing aside some jeans, blouses, and pajamas, her fingers fell around a small frame, closing a picture of a young, happy family. A woman with green eyes and blonde hair, sweet and warm looking. A man, with brown hair and hazel eyes. Strong, determined, and muscular. On the lap of the woman was a toddler in dark brown pigtails, with the same bright green eyes as the mother and nose dotted in a dusting of freckles. Everyone was smiling. Bridgette sighed, then carefully walked the photo towards the closet. She found a drawer on the side of the closet, took a long look at the picture.
Then she chucked it into the drawer and slammed it shut.
Yeah, I realize my description of the Agreste mansion was not that great but that style is incredibly hard to describe. And besides, if you didn't know the show, you wouldn't be here, right? Leave a review if you wish, I am not picky. Also I still don't know if I am crazy about the title I may change it, I dunno.
Also I am curious to know what everyone's "favorite" ship is in the show! which versions of Marinette and Adrien do you ship most? Of course, the exciting part is everyone wins no matter what, but we all have favorite versions, right? Personally, Ladrien is my favorite. The interactions are just so awkward and cute and UURRGGHGHHH I could just squeeze them they are so adorbs!