Degrees of Separation
Sing Me to Sleep
Sometimes she feels it, the complete sensation of unawareness. She is living a half-life. That's not to say that it isn't full. Marinette is roommates with Alya and she still designs. It's mostly costume orders for cosplayers or costumes for the local amateur theater. While it is not the path she had envisioned it is better than nothing. Surely. Alya jokes that Marinette missed her calling as a superhero, particularly when she works on commissions from hardcore cosplayers, she laughs along with Alya but something jolts down the core of her conscious. Marinette shoves it deep into the recesses of her mind and continues her initial design sketches.
At night it's harder to escape. Her dreams call out to her. A flash of red, the smell of cookies a shrill giggle. The thrill of soaring through the air in a never-ending series of ascents and descents; accompanied by solid presence. She can never pin down any of these scenes they flash and fade in and out far too quickly. When Marinette wakes the images are long gone, popped like a soap bubble as it floats toward the sun. But one thing remains, a voice, always the same.
"My Lady…"
Marinette gasps for breath and shakes. She doesn't understand why, she has never been anyone's lady. That knowledge does nothing to stop the ache in her heart.
Adrien remembers. It's a terrible burden to bear. He remembers it all in excruciating detail, the exhilaration, the complete freedom that only came from being Chat Noir. The triumph and elation that came from a city finally saved. The joy of having a companion. Ladybug. His Ladybug. Every night he tries to reach her. He dwells on the happiest memories of their time together, before falling asleep. He prays it will be enough to reach her; whoever she is.
"My Lady…"
He hasn't had any luck so far.