How is it possible a room he only knew about for a few days could become one of the most important places in his life? The room looked so generic when he stepped in the first time. The walls were shades of brown, a light brown and a dark brown in an attempt to make the room feel bigger and warmer than it actually was. A blue couch sat against a wall, a large window overlooking Paris just over the top of the couch. A pretty, but generic geometric flower design was on a pair of throw pillows on the couch. There was a television mounted to the wall, muted, playing the news, not that he was paying attention to it. He was too busy staring at the white bed across from it. The empty white bed.

When he first came into the room it was generic but now he came in here to collect the last signs of life that had been in here. The room had exploded in color over the few days. Flowers sat on the table next to the bed, once bright colored roses now wilting. Surrounding the flowers were brightly colored Get Well Soon cards from the people she cared most about. The table under the television housed dozens of others from fashion designers, politicians and celebrities that were trying to make a good impression on his family. The couch was no longer able to be sat on as it was overflowing with stuffed animals. Adrien walked over to the couch and picked up a stuffed brown bear, turning it over in his hands, looking it over before carefully placing it back in the couch with the other bears, rabbits, elephants, penguins, dogs... There were so many he didn't know what he was going to do with them.

The walls were bursting with life. Photographs and sketches decorated the wall, portraits of the three of them when they were young and happy, sketches that his father had designed for his mother, pictures Adrien when he was at school, posters of butterflies and peacocks... Adrien let out a sigh before going to sit on the edge of the bed. There was warmth here only a day ago. How was it already so cold? He looked at the side table, the one with the wilting flowers and get well soon cards. Sitting between the cards was a bright blue peacock mug that his father had gotten for her as a present. He picked it up and dumped it out in the room's sink. He had to start somewhere.

Adrien ignored the stinging in his eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling as he used the hospital soap as a dish soap, using paper towels to wash the mug inside and out, carefully feeling the details on it. He wanted to break down and fall to his knees, scream and ask why was his mother taken from him? He had just gotten her back. He really was the embodiment of bad luck. He knew he was being irrational. He couldn't blame his bad luck for his mother's death. She had cancer. She'd been dying for years. He just thought he had time. Her turn for the worst was so sudden. One day she's making pancakes at the stove, talking about his upcoming wedding and how excited she was, and the next she's in the hospital bed, promising to get better to see her son's wedding.

He placed the mug into a box he carried in with him before gathering up the flowers and throwing them away. They were dead. Like she was. Like he would be. The only thing certain in life is death. He gathered up the Get Well Soon cards and placed them in the box with the mug, stacking the ones that meant the most to her on top. He made his way to the walls, reluctant to turn the bright walls back to brown, knowing it had to be done. He carefully pulled down each design his father had made, placing them in a folder, followed by Marinette's sketches of flowers and birds she had drawn for the sole purpose of livening up the room. He then started to take down the photographs, looking over each of them before carefully placing them in an album.

His mother looked beautiful in her wedding dress. No doubt father designed and sewed it himself. She looked exquisite, her blonde hair pulled up in an intricate up-do, blonde tendrils escaping the front and framing her face... The bodice was long sleeved and made of lace, the skirt made up of beautiful white feathers. He knew his mother had loved feathers, but sacrificed them as a decoration tool when it was discovered Adrien was allergic to them. She loved him so much. He was reminded of that when he looked at her picture. She was an angel to him.

Time passed slowly, each moment dragging on. He sat on the edge of the bed until he felt arms encompass him. He didn't need to look to know that it was Marinette who had snaked her arms around him, who was holding him close. He buried his head in her shoulder and cried, letting out loud sobs that wracked his entire body. Marinette just rubbed little circles in his back, letting him cry on her while he clutched the picture of his mother until he was out of tears to cry and his breaths came out shaky. "I miss her," was all he could manage to say.

"Life's unfair," Marinette said. "You just got her back and now..." she took his hand in hers and leaned against his shoulder. "I want to make the pain go away. I would, if I could." She let out a sigh. "Lucky Charm can't fix this."

He picked up the back of her hand and placed a kiss on it. "She won't see our wedding." He noticed small tears starting to roll down Marinette's cheeks, but he kept lamenting. "She won't ever get to meet her grandkids. She'll never see father retire and live peacefully with him. She won't get to see any of it."

Despite the tears Marinette gave him a small smile. "But she got to see the wonderful man her son became. Isn't that worth something?"

He took a glance at a picture on the wall, the one closest to her. It was a picture of Ladybug and Chat Noir, smiling and waving at the photographer, holding hands after the defeat of a particularly difficult akuma. "Yeah, I guess it is."


This was inspired by the song Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran.