She wanted three kids, at least, for the siblings that she never had. The little brother, who would have been smaller than her, but he'd fight for her. For the older sister who would have brushed her hair and maybe braided it if it was long enough, who would sure jokes with her, and spend hours just hanging out and being her best friend. But, she was an only child, and she didn't want that for her future children. Marinette loved her parents so much, but sometimes you just really wanted a sibling to model your designs, to laugh with, to just be around.
She wanted pets too. Marinette had never been able to have any due to the health risks within a bakery, from either the amount of fur or anything else a pet did, for it running around and making customers worry over their food, and some pets needed to go outside, and all would want more than the top apartment to live in.
A lot of her dreams involved Adrien, but even she knew that if something shifted in her life, she'd be fine with marrying someone else. She did however want a happy marriage with a husband who loved her, silly moments laughing by themselves, and gentle, sweet kisses from the love that they shared. She wanted someone who wasn't afraid of making her laugh or who didn't mind somehow getting caught up in the little things in life.
She dreamed of a successful career as a fashion designer, a husband who was looking out for her, and would tell her if she was working too much, because she didn't know if she'd always catch herself, and she wanted to play with her kids too. She wanted a love like her parents, gentle and sturdy and sweet and encouraging.
Marinette longed for the kinds of days where something silly kept them glued to it, like extremely long Uno games, awfully close matches at Ultimate Mecha Strike, the morning sun warming a bed that somehow seems too warm and cuddly to ever want to leave it. She wanted the kind of life one day that reminded her that sometimes taking it slow or the little things tended to add up to so much more than the fast pace of life.
Marinette dreamed of the days where she'd be able to squeeze in time for a friendly outing with Alya, for laughter, and hours spent during not much that somehow feels like a whole lot when you look back on it. She dreamed of hanging out with the whole crew: Alya, Adrien, Nino, and maybe even letting Chloe join the group. One day, the majority of them as superheroes might grow into closer friends.
She dreamed of someone who understood that not all exhaustion was explainable, even though she wanted her future husband to know that she is Ladybug. There were so many reasons though that her identity might have to stay a secret, reasons she wasn't too eager to explain or go over.
Marinette sometimes wondered if she dreamed for too much, and if so, she hoped that she didn't and she wanted to just be happy one day, in love, spending time with family and friends, and just happy.
Sometimes, she didn't think over the future. She was exhausted, and her mind decided to have a little bit of loopy fun with that. It spread over a beautiful landscape that looked like fields, and what would likely have been not far from Paris if she had any hope of ever going there. Within the fields stood several tall trees, one with big white flowers that grew and grew and grew. The others despite their different colored flowers and leaves seemed dull by comparison.
Suddenly, there was rock music to a tune that made her just want to dance, so she did. It was a simple tune on repeat, but she had no idea where it could possibly be coming from, just somewhere nearby. She wondered vaguely if Luka ever played this song. It was a song, wasn't it?
He was there now, and he was playing it, and the flowers rustled in the trees like leaves and added a beautiful extra beat to the music. It was blissful, and when her eyes reopened, squirrels ran by, scampering up the trees, and Luka was fading. It was weird. He'd been here one second, and now the next, he was gone. Marinette's faint humming along to the music came to a dull stop, and then there was a beauitful melody, and it stood by itself.
It was delicate and sweet and romantic, and her heart fluttered. It fluttered like Adrien's hand were around her waist or in her own hand, and she couldn't think beyond just the wild hope of it, the hope that she'd be happy and that he'd be here, and she wouldn't have to be alone again.
Then, he was there, and he was playing piano, beautifully. Marinette would hum along, but she worried that her hums wouldn't fit along with the beautiful notes that Adrien played so effortlessly. She crept closer, trying to bite her tongue, in case she accidentally spoke instead of remaining quiet, and she sat down next to him, feeling a delicate steady warmth in her side that lit her heart up into racing all over again.
Marinette watched his fingers, as if in a trance, watched as they danced across the keys, as they tiptoed through her heart, and she wondered why it always seemed that Adrien held beauty in spades, and that this beauty clung to him in all the little ways that it possibly could. It clung from his bright smile to his sincere laugh that day to the way that he cared for his friends to this moment at the piano. She loved it, whatever it was.
Delicately, she leaned against him, as if emboldened by the piano and its gentle melody, and her head rested on his shoulder, and then she woke up, half falling off her bed, and wishing that she owned a piano. Did Adrien like playing the piano like Luka liked playing guitar? It was a strange thought put like that, and she tried to shake out twin images of the boys that she'd just dreamt about.
Sometimes she woke up and just wondered what all of it meant, but she was almost nervous to share this one with Alya or her parents, and figured that it would remain just a little secret, a dream worth figuring out later. She hoped that Adrien liked playing the piano anyway, as if he didn't, then it would be such a sad, ominous thing, like rewatching a scary movie, and knowing just then that the music is not a happy lovesong or something that the musician plays for fun, but plays for heartache and pain and suffering and misery and worry and anxiety that pools in your tummy.
Marinette hopes, just hopes, that Adrien's happy, and perhaps that's a stranger thought though one she's had often. She wishes him the best and ultimate happiness, even happiness that is contained and hidden within the future. Marinette hates the thought of imagining him unhappy or lonely. In a way, she hates the unhappiness of any of her friends, but she probably wouldn't admit to anyone but Tikki, the special way that it is for Adrien. His unhappiness and misery are perhaps worse to imagine, and it hurts to think of how dull and lonely his house is, for all it has.
Either way, the day's beginning, and she feels cold now. Marinette can't go back to sleep now, and doesn't want to spend the morning thinking back over her dream anymore, so she leaves it between the bedsheets and her blanket, curled up as they are, on the pillow that she once rested her head on, and in a land that she might not return back to tonight. Every dream could very well be different, after all.
