Marinette is doing okay these days. At least, that's what she tells herself. She's lying.
It's not like she's doing badly per se, but it's there in the back of her mind, in the way she turns to tell him something and forgets he's not there to hear it, or she takes the wrong turn on the way home because she forgets it's not her home anymore.
She hates it. The constant ache in her chest that she forgets about every so often, the way she can't get over him. It would be easier to stomach if he had left her, but instead it was the other way round, and she still can't fucking get him out of her head or her heart.
It's been a week and a half.
It's not long enough and too long all at once, and Marinette feels out of balance these days.
She worries, too. Three years is long enough to build a certain congruence of habit and so they still both get coffee from the café nearby, and she sees him around frequenting the same places they used to go to together and she now still goes to alone. He's not looking so good these days. He looks tired and out of sorts, and just a little bit like he's falling apart on the inside. She knows the feeling. The fact that she probably has a lot to do with his current state twists her up more inside, and the guilt breaks her a little every time she thinks about it.
She doesn't miss him that much, she tells herself. She doesn't want to go back to what they had, she tells herself. She's not really sure where the lies that she tells herself really end anymore, there are so many. She left him, and she no longer has any claim over him, and it's her own damn fault and she isn't going to be the bitch that leaves a man and then guilts him back into a relationship just because she misses him.
She hopes he's eating okay. And sleeping enough. And not working himself into the ground as they are both prone to do if the other doesn't haul them out of it.
She's hopeless.
Chat Noir is on the prowl again tonight. She can see him from Alya's balcony, where she's been sleeping in what is technically Alya's bed, but since Alya spends almost every night at Nino's, is more like a spare bed which Marinette has full use of until she can find her own place.
It's pissing her off. Her ridiculous partner who is also apparently her ex-boyfriend is lurking round like a stray that senses food and warmth and she's almost tempted to invite him in but he lost any right to her casual company when he betrayed her trust and made her look like an idiot for close to four years.
This unwelcome reminder was what finally spurred her to get up and go inside instead of shivering outside in the cool autumn air. She shut the door behind her and sagged down onto the bed with an exhausted sigh. She stayed like that for a few seconds before levering herself back into a standing position and going to get ready for bed.
It was ten minutes later, with her hair loose and her pyjamas on, when the doorbell rang while she was in the middle of brushing her teeth. Alya must have forgotten her keys again, and would probably want to talk for a bit, so she spat and rinsed before she went to answer the door. It was not Alya.
Instead standing awkwardly on the other side of the door was Adrien, a mug dangling loosely from his fingers. Marinette shrieked and would have shut the door in his face if he hadn't wedged his foot neatly in the gap. Marinette reluctantly swung the door open once more, because even if she wasn't his biggest fan right now, she didn't hate him enough to physically hurt him. "What do you want?" she asks brusquely.
He blinked slightly and then offered the mug he was holding to her. It was one of her favourites, and she had just been drinking out of it while on the balcony-
oh
He was stuttering as she stared at him blankly. "I-i saw you left it on the railing, and i know it's one of your favourites, a-and i know you would hate for it to get smashed i-if it fell so I th-thought that,"
Marinette gaped at him, unable to muster more than a slight frown. Without anything to say, she accepted the mug with a flat, "Thanks," and then, without thinking, stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his before turning and going back inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. And then stopped dead in her tracks.
shit
She had not meant to do that. Fucking shiiit. This was not good. It was a complete accident, simply force of habit. That was all.
It had been nice though, just for a moment, to forget that they weren't together anymore. This was probably going to come back to bite her in the ass though. It was done though, and even Lucky Charm couldn't turn back time. She was just going to have to roll with it, and hope like hell Adrien wouldn't think anything of it.
Plugging her phone into the charger in the kitchen, she made her way into bed, curling up under the covers and shivering at the still unfamiliar absence of another person with her. She fell asleep more easily than in previous nights, but her sleep was fitful and not particularly restful.