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Adrien's P.O.V

"Father, where's mom?" I asked, shifting on my feet. Father has recently been avoiding and closing himself off from everyone to hide in his office. I've passed his office a few times to see him stare at the portrait of mom and felt loneliness in this growing-to-be cold house. Big and empty without mother's warmth around.

Father started to drown himself in work instead of having dinner like we usually do. He would lock me in my room until needed for any curricular events that he schedules. I see his assistant, Nathalie more than I see him!

Mom hasn't come back for quite some time and it really scared me to pieces.

What happened to her? Where could she be? Is she coming back at all?

Mom should have been back a week ago, but there was still no message or clue to her coming home. It seemed that the only person that has answers is my father. I tried to get answers from Natalie, but she wanted my father to break the news.

After gathering up the courage, I shyly, but finally, asked about mom. Father was once again looking at the portrait of mom before turning to face me with a cold, narrowed-eyed look. I tensed when our gazes met and nervously shrunk back a little. I've never seen him like this before. He's always cheery and happy…something bad must of happened.

I have a feeling I knew who the problem was about and could almost hear my heart pounding against my chest.

"Your mother is missing, and I want to be alone so go to your room. Natalie will call you for dinner soon but don't expect me to be there. I am very busy and don't disturb me again. Are we clear?" he stated, dully. I was completely flabbergasted and gaped feeling hurt by his cold words.

How could he give bad news in such a cruel way? To his own son too!

"B-But-"I tried to speak but was cut off.

"ARE. WE. CLEAR?" He repeated, harshly, glaring down at me. We kept eye contact for a while, before I bowed my head and stepped back out of his office. I met his gaze one more time, trying to find any remorse or chance that he would take back his hurtful words. Seeing none, I grabbed the door and lowered my head.

"Yes, father," I answered, sliding the door shut. I clenched my teeth together and turned my hands into fists, holding back unshed tears from the rejection of my own father. I backed away from the door slowly before turning away and heading back to my room. Little did I know, it would become my new, cold prison full of loneliness.

I swore that I wouldn't leave anyone to grieve alone again.

Yet…I already broke my promise. I gave up with trying to confront my father about mother and comfort him. Still, he pushed me farther away until there were rare occasions we would see each other in person. He never came to dinner, never asked about my day, never really done anything together, now that I think about it.

Now, I need to fix that promise.

"Plagg, fuel up," I said, tossing my Kwami a wheel of stinky cheese. The greedy being grabbed the cheese and devoured it whole, while I searched the web for any of the nearest flower shops to stop it.

"What are you planning? Giving your Princess some flowers? How…disgusting, yuck! Why do you even need girls when there are way less stressful things such as-"

"I swear," I started, annoyed and cutting off Plagg.

"If you say Camembert, I will limit your cheese by one wheel a day unless more is necessary."

Plagg gasped in horror, "You are sick and evil, especially to this loyal, hardworking and might I say, handsome Kwami who dreams for the love of his cheese."

I raised an eyebrow at Plagg before digging through my closet for a bow tie and some money stashed in the back.

"So what are Romeo's plans for his Marinette," Plagg teased, hovering nearby and curiously watching as I looked in the mirror for a moment. I sighed then glanced at my thousand-year-old friend.

"Stop it. You know I love Ladybug," I stated, walking over and sitting on my bed.

"Marinette is just a friend that is in need of some comfort from someone that can give it…" I paused, looking at a picture of Ladybug and my alter ego on my computer. A frown encased my lips before staring at the floor with guilt.

"…someone she can trust. How? Why does she even trust Chat so much? She's only met him or me in costume a few times. The point is, Marinette barely knows Chat but trusts him enough over her own best friend with her problems, a big one too."

"I'm not good at this "advice" thing but let me just say that, you pretty much dropped in on her unexpectedly and didn't give her a chance to let her say it on her own time," Plagg said.

"No, she told me when she felt ready to tell me," I responded, arguing my point.

"But did she feel ready to tell someone or was pressured by it?" he asked, whiskers twitching. I was about to reply when my mouth went dry and left gaping before closing. Realization poured over and washed every doubt, every lagging thought away. What have I done?

Now, I feel even worse than ever. I need to make this up to Marinette somehow…and I think I know how. I turned to my Kwami with determination swelling in my chest and yelled out three words.

"Plagg, claws out!"

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Marinette's P.O.V

I looked at myself in the mirror.

Dark bags hung below my eyes from lack of sleep and hands trembling, nervous about what was going to happen later today. The funeral, it's today, and I've never felt so scared or unprepared for something before in my life. It happened too fast and came so unexpectedly.

This battle within myself, I wasn't ready for nor saw it coming and now, losing it terribly. Why did this have to happen so soon? Why did it have to be today and not later, sometime in the future? I'm sure mama wanted to see me graduate, go to college, get married and see her grandchildren. Now, she'll miss all of that and more.

She never got to live the life she wanted, the life she deserved. How could I not see it every time her eyes dulled or the ill face she showed carelessly that I shrugged off thinking it was a 24-hour bug?

I sighed and recollected my thoughts to put on some makeup. A black dress encased my body, the top part tied around my neck and the hem ending below the knee a little. I didn't know what to do with my hair, put it in a bun or let it down.

Tap Tap Tap

My attention was soon drawn to the unexpected knocking on the skylight. I pattered across the wooden floor, curious as to why the cat came. Climbing up to the stairs then crawling across my bed, I reached the skylight and opened it. Chat Noir jumped inside with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. That's when I noticed he was holding something behind his back and wearing a bow tie around his neck. Before I started to interrogate the cat, he held up a hand.

"I wanted to come with you to the funeral if you let me," he said, bringing out a bouquet of pretty blue flowers with a baby blue bow keeping them secure. I carefully took the bouquet into my hands and examined them in shock.

"Chat, you didn't have too…" I told the hero. His smile widened and reached behind him again, this time bringing out a rose.

"But I wanted too," Chat replied. I smiled, a quiet "thanks" escaping my lips and retrieving the rose.

"These are really pretty, Chat," I commented, gazing at the blue floral in my hands and set the rose aside.

"They're called Forget Me Nots. They are a symbol of remembering good memories with a person you truly care about," the black cat informed.

This showed that Chat put a lot of thought into what kind of flower to pick and this made me appreciate him more. He could be really sweet and thoughtful at times. How come I'm just noticing this now of all times?

"Thank you, Chat. This means a whole lot to me, but you don't need to come to the funeral. I don't want you to worry about me. You've already done so much," I reassured. He shook his head.

"No, I insist. I don't want to make the same mistake twice. Please, let me be there for you," he begged which caught me off guard seeing the seriousness in those green eyes. Same mistake? Something major must have happened in Chat's life for him to be helping me in the way he's been doing this past week.

"Alright," I quietly allowed, before climbing back down. I wrote the address of where the place the funeral is being held at then gave the slip of paper to Chat. I walked back over to the mirror and continued trying to figure out what to do with my hair.

"What's the matter?" the miraculous user asked.

"I wanted to do something special with my hair, but I don't know what," I explained, almost given up and just about to go in pigtails.

"What are your ideas for it?" he asked, crossing his arms behind his back.

"I want to either put it in a bun or something else," I said. It was kind of stressing me out and Tikki said I would look nice with whatever I chose. Yet, my stubbornness continued the war with what to do with my look.

"You want me to help?" Chat offered. I raised an eyebrow for him see in the mirror. What was he, a hairstylist? That would be pretty funny imagining the cat battling akumas and styling hair.

"I'll be the judge and tell you what I think," he added. I nodded, understanding. The user of bad luck sat at my chaise as I put my hair into a bun. Turning around, I walked over and showed him.

Chat hummed in thought, curiosity twinkling before standing up. I gave him a questionable gaze, before he let my hair sprawl out a little below my shoulders.

He quickly took in his work before gaping and widening his eyes. He seemed to be stunned, almost speechless.

"What? Is there something on my face?" I asked, worried something was wrong.

"Wow, Princess. You should wear your hair down more often. You look absolutely ravishing and pretty that I might just get jealous if other black cats start looking at you," Chat half-joked still amazed.

"Really?" I said, annoyed. Was he taking this seriously or trying to joke around? I was not in the mood for it right now. Now that I think about it, he hasn't said any cat puns yet.

"I mean it," He concluded, honestly, "you look beautiful, Marinette."

My face flushed red and heartbeat sped faster than a waterfall when hearing such a modest answer. No jokes. No puns. Surprisingly, no flirting. Just his honest opinion. What was wrong with me? Why am I so flustered over my silly partner's comment?

"Keep your cool, Marinette," I thought, "It's just, Chat. Your pun-loving, partner who fights akumas with you."

"U-Um…thanks," I stuttered a bit, mentally hitting myself for such reactions. Why did I stutter?

"N-No problem," he stuttered, just as flustered. I was surprised hearing the hero actually stutter. I gulped a little when feeling his hands lace with mine.

"Marinette, are you almost ready?" my dad called from below. Out of the corner of my eye, Chat vanished through the skylight. My heart raced like crazy and the heat would not leave my cheeks, trying not to stare at the skylight. I looked down at the hand he tried to hold and still felt a tingly sensation of his hand in mine. I was so lost in thought that I almost forgot my dad called me.

"Yes, papa," I said, hurriedly and speedily grabbed the Forget Me Nots. I grabbed my purse with Tikki in it and put on some black flat shoes before heading downstairs to meet with papa. He wore a suit and adjusted his tie then turning my way, giving a small smile.

"You look stunning. You even have your hair down," he said, a bit surprised then noticed the flowers.

"Where did you get the flowers from?' he asked.

"A friend gave them to me and might be dropping by if that's okay with you?" I questioned, sheepishly.

"It's fine with me. You can have someone with you in case I'm busy with other things," he reassured. I smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. We both left the apartment and went to the funeral parlor.

There wasn't a word that could describe how nervous and scared I am right now. My stomach churned feeling sick and cold sweat dripping down my head.

This was it.

This was my final goodbye before mama is buried.

The worst part was, I told myself to be strong this whole time. I wouldn't cry anymore and be the daughter my mother always saw. A happy girl. A proud and confident girl who would take on any challenge that comes across my path.

I entered the building with papa behind me. We went down the hall until arriving at the main room. The room with the closed casket, decorations filled the walls, one covered in gifts, flowers and pictures. A power point was set up on the wall with some soft music playing.

It was mesmerizing and beautiful that I almost broke down, holding it in.

I didn't go any further into the room than the door frame when two men that were in charge of the casket began to open it. The only glimpse I caught was blue and white before turning and walking away from the scene in tears, muffling my sobs with my hand.

How was I going to face her like this? How am I ever going to even go into the room? This was my last goodbye to my mother, and I selfishly didn't want too.

I found a small secluded area with a couch, tables and chairs. I sat on the far side of the couch and silently cried, loneliness overwhelming me.

"Mom…please," I cried, "I-I w-want my m-mom back."

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