Adrien remembers the irony that clung to them.
His mother was vibrant and full of life, her feathers sprung forth in weak arrays and patterns, good memories held in nearly white wings, bad memories interspersed throughout with dark brown to black feathers.
He always sneezed whenever any of his parents got their feathers too close, but he'd always both been awed and fearful of the beautiful array on his mother's back that she'd called her love shrine to his father.
Every last feather was a remnant, a hint, of their love; she'd remarked more than once that everything that his father was changed her.
His father's wings were almost sad, darker grays mixed with the occasional lighter gray, and he realized that his father was more confused than his mother was; his back was like a sad picture of majestic wings, large that sprouted on his back, looked nearly intimidating, and Adrien remembers how their tips grew black, their new tips, ones that had came to life after his mother disappeared.
He never said a word about his father's feathers; he'd never felt like he could as they'd always looked so sad, so bittersweet, that even as a child he couldn't question them or bring any thoughts of them aloud to his mind.
Adrien could just close his eyes and imagine perfect feathers of his own though other days, he hoped that he wouldn't find a soulmate of his own, so that he wouldn't have to deal with his allergy or the bitterness that sprouted up so readily on both of his parents' backs.
He remembers though when he first felt the shift of feathers on his back when a girl in his class yells at him, ripping his heart to shreds in the process, because he's not ignorant to the feathers that sting and practically brand his back.
Adrien tries to stop it, tries to build up understanding, fearing the dark colors that he knows are on his back; he doesn't say a word to his father about soulmates, tries to at first ignore the pleasant awe in his chest on another day when soft feathers sprout up so gently.
He wishes that he had the luck of some of the kids in class with all light feathers, but then again, his life had never been lucky.
Adrien, when opportunity presents itself, apologizes properly to the girl in his class, shocked by the soft sprinkling of feathers on his back, ignores how they slightly sting when he decides to just be friends with her.
He never wanted a soulmate and wants one that was built up on misunderstandings even less; if he were to chase anyone, it would be Ladybug, because despite everything, they weren't built up on heartache.
Adrien realizes with a bitter twang of his heart and small pinpricks of pain on his back that Cat Noir has a soulmate, but so does Adrien Agreste.
He'd always rather be Cat Noir.