Author's Note: First off, I feel the need to note that I ALMOST titled this story "The Arousal of Possibility," but I refraining, thinking that that might be too raunchy to be on the cover of this.
Not to say that the contents won't be…but for the sake of preserving the innocence of any children browsing…
Second of all, THIS IS A SEQUEL TO "POSSIBILITY," another story of mine. I would recommend reading that story first so you get a sense of the character's relationship (and also what the hell is going on).
Third of all, to the people who have read "Possibility," and asked for more…HERE YA GO. You guys are so fabulous (gods really) that I have been struck with the lightning of inspiration and WALA!
SOMEWHAT IMPORTANT NOTE: Italics are used to indicate a character's thoughts or emphasize a word/phrase. I write the narrating character's name in italics at the beginning of the passage (if the passage is from a specific character's point of view).
Please enjoy!
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3 months had passed since that fateful flight…
"Adrien, it's hardly more than a week. 10 days," Marinette said, holding up both hands - fingers extended - for emphasis. "You'll live."
"I'm going to be so bored," Adrien whined, tugging back on her sleeve in a futile gesture. "Can I do the cat thing where crawl into your suitcase-"
"Adrien, you're not that skinny." She snipped, rolling her eyes.
He pouted.
"Now let go of my sleeve. You're stretching it out," she shooed his hand away. "My flight leaves in an hour, but we both know that security is a bitch so I have to go-"
"-I know," he mumbled, hanging onto her fingers. He sighed. "I just wish you weren't going so far. I mean - California – really?"
"It's for 'inspiration for the summer season,'" Marinette quoted. "I'm not the only designer going. There are dozens more."
"Yeah, but you're the most important," he gave a tight smile, squeezing her hand.
She gave him a small smile in return. "You'll live," she repeated, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.
Then stepped back, pulling their lingering hands apart.
"Text me when you land!" He called, cheeks still warm from the kiss.
"At 3 am?" She shouted back, incredulous.
"Of course!" He smiled, watching her disappear into the crowd. "I'll be waiting…" he muttered to himself, hand dropping from the extended wave he'd given her. He looked on a moment longer, hoping for one last glimpse of his girlfriend.
But she was gone, immersed in the crowd of strangers.
She's be fine, he chided himself, forcing himself to turn back to the airport's entrance. She's a strong girl…
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Marinette
There was something oddly charming about listening to the man beside you wretch into a paper bag.
Of course, when this has been going on for nearly 10 minutes, it loses its charm.
Or perhaps it was never 'charming at all,' and she was just faking optimism for her own sanity.
This is fine, she seemed to be repeating to herself, fingers pinched over her nose. He's done now-
Oh no he's not, apparently.
She turned away again, finding it hard not to gag.
Why motion sickness? She looked skyward, deftly handing her neighboring passenger her own doggie bag.
This was going to be a loooooong flight…
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She arrived a little after 3 in the morning, the sky dark and misty. The skyscrapers were shrouded in fog, the red lights atop blinking lethargically.
She rubbed the sleep in her eyes, fighting the fatigue that gnawed at her limbs.
I just need to get to my hotel…she thought. Then I can crash…
The taxi ride and check-in was a blur, the English words thrown around her muffling her own thought process.
And then she was collapsed on the bed, shrouded in white softness and the blackness of the night.
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Unfortunately for Marinette, she awoke no more than three hours later, the sunlight of dawn streaming in from the undrawn curtains.
Fuck. She thought, mentally cursing her laziness the night before.
Well, she looked around herself, noting her suitcase parked just inside the room. I feel oddly refreshed…I guess the nap on the plane did help.
She glanced at the clock beside the bed, resetting her wrist watch to match the time.
Oh shoot, I forgot to text Adrien, she grimaced, fishing out her phone from her purse.
It was dead, battery drained after a missed night of charging.
She groaned, plugging the device in and flopping back on the bed.
I might as well get up, she sighed. It's the proper time to get up here anyway…
Half grumbling to herself, she rolled out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and shoved her feet in a pair of sandals, determined to get a cup of coffee and a bite of fresh air.
Enriched by her coffee, she took a step outside the hotel, noticing for the first time the amazing proximity the hotel had to the beach. It was literally right across from the boardwalk!
I guess there are some perks to working at Agreste, she thought, a smile gracing her features.
She took a seat on the seawall, content with watching the waves and feeling the sea breeze in her hair.
Her eyes closed, she heard the faint pad of bare feet behind her, the early risers and surfers arriving.
She sighed, head lulling forward in relaxation.
"Marinette?" A voice broke in behind her.
She turned around, embarrassed to be caught dozing. There was a redhead carrying a surfboard, teal eyes wide with the morning light.
She stared, mouth going agape. This guy knew her name? Who was-
It hit her like a punch to the gut, the name leaving her lips in a wheeze.
"Nathanael?" She gasped in disbelief.
He nodded, mute but with a smile on his face.
Holy fuck, when did he get abs?!
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Author's Note:
Ahahaha…
Alright, I'm sure you can tell that this story is going into the 'relationship drama' category.
Nathanael is going to be playing a more major role in this story, but Alya and perhaps Nino will appear again.
If you're asking 'why California?' - it's because it's awesome. And the land of stereotypically hot surfer men and women in bikinis. How sexy. And America is the 'land of opportunity.' End of story.
I hope you've enjoyed! I always appreciate feedback and comments!