start notes—
Adrien, Marinette, and the varying degrees of need.
my tellonym: milkisande
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childhood friends
it's better to burn,
than to fade away.
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ADRIEN meets Marinette when he's six years old and running away for the first time.
It happens after his mom tells him that he can't have macarons for dinner. Can you believe it? To separate a child and his one true love— a single bite of passionfruity goodness… it is, understandably, too much for his little mind to handle.
So, he runs away—
Because clearly, the only logical solution to not having dessert for dinner is to run away somewhere that would allow him to do so.
(Maybe whoever made the macarons. He's sure that they probably have sweets for every meal!)
And it seems like a good idea at first.
But as he runs through the dimly-lit streets of Paris, with nothing but his superhero-themed backpack and the black cat stuffed toy he'd been given for Christmas, Adrien slowly begins to realize that maybe he'd acted too rashly.
He's cold, he's wet, and his macarons are nowhere to be found.
So of course, he does what any six-year-old would do in his situation:
He falls to the ground and starts crying.
It's in that state when she first finds him.
"Whatcha cryin' about?"
Adrien looks up and freezes. Snot is dripping out of his nose, eyes red, and cheeks puffy— and for the first time in his life, he feels self-consciousness.
Because standing in front of him is very likely the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
Quickly wiping his face with his sleeve (though all it really does is intensify the redness), Adrien shakes his head. "I'm not crying."
"Yeah you were," she says, pointing at his face. "Look, your face is wet."
"... it's because it's raining."
Pretty Girl huffs. "It's not raining," she accuses him. "You're lying!"
"I'm not lying!" He argues, slowly standing back up. "I'm not crying!"
"You just were," she shoots back. "Why are you sad, sad boy? Where are your parents?"
He frowns, shaking his head. "Nowhere. I don't care." Adrien shakes his head. "They're bad parents."
"What do you mean bad?" She asks. "Did they hurt you?"
"Yeah! They didn't let me have macarons for dinner."
"... and?"
"And…?" Adrien asks, confused. "That's it. They're so mean, not letting me eat what I want. So I ran away!"
A sudden smack on the head.
"Ouch?!"
"You're being spoiled," Pretty Girl finally says, frowning. "Your parents are just doing what's best for you. Stop getting mad at them for that."
"But I want macarons!"
"And you can't always get what you want!" She argues, shaking her head. "You should be happy with what you have. Papa always tells me how lucky I am to be where I am. Some kids don't even get to be that lucky ever."
"But…"
"No buts," she says, with finality. "Listen to your parents!" Then, after a moment, Pretty Girl fishes out something from her pocket.
It's one piece of a red polka-dotted earring.
"Here."
Adrien stares at her, suspicious. "What is this?"
"It's to make you happy again," she tells him. "It's an earring."
"... so it's a gift?"
Pretty Girl wrinkles her nose. "Yeah, I guess. Just stop crying already."
He smiles.
A gift.
From a pretty girl!
"Thank you," he beams, remembering his mother's lessons on how to be a good boy. "This means we're friends, right?"
"... sure," she finally mutters, after a brief pause. Then, she takes out her hand. "I'm Marinette."
"Adrien," he replies, almost enthusiastically holding her hand in his. "Nice to meet you!"
He wants to ask more, and talk to her longer, before the sound of an ambulance rings across the otherwise empty streets.
Then, an army of police cars quick to follow.
"What happened?" He wonders, before noticing Marinette try to sneak away. "Hey! Where are you going?" Adrien asks, chasing after her as she makes a run for it.
"My parents don't know I'm out!" She responds, shouting at him. "I'll be in trouble if they see I'm not in bed!"
"But will I see you again?"
Marinette laughs, and Adrien's almost confident he's never heard such a beautiful sound in his life.
"Friends don't just leave each other like that!" She only says, before disappearing into the night.
He finds himself alone, having stopped in front of a bus station.
It's a concerned conductor that helps bring Adrien home, to the arms of his evidently just-been-crying parents (he watches with childlike wonder as his father wipes away his teary expression, Marinette's words echoing in his ear) and a mound of freshly-heated macarons— but he barely takes notice.
Instead, Adrien looks in his hand.
The polka-dotted earring glitters with the light.
He presses it to his heart, then wishes with all his soul that he'll see her again.
Marinette.
How cute.
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The next time Adrien meets Marinette is almost two years later.
He's running away again.
Chloé had invited him to a playdate in her bedroom, where she insisted they play house— with her being the wife, and him the "super handsome and all mine husband".
But Adrien didn't want to play that. He wanted to play superheroes, so he grabbed the superhero mask he made in school and put it on— ignoring her protests.
She cried and he called her a spoiled brat, before running away to avoid getting scolded. He runs to the emergency exit, sitting on the stairs as he leans his head upon his arms, almost on the verge of tears.
"You're a crybaby."
Adrien looks up, noticing with surprise as Marinette stands on the stair below him, arms crossed together as she peers over at his small frame.
"You!"
"Yeah, me," she replies. "Who else would it be?"
"You…"
"I…"
"Where have you been!?" Adrien finally rages, eyebrows knitted together in a mix of confusion and anger. "I've been waiting for you for forever!"
"I'm sorry…," Marinette begins, scratching her head. "Did I say I was gonna meet you? I'm kinda forgetful…"
"And dumb!" Adrien shouts, pointing accusingly at her. "You're a meanie face poop head for leaving me!"
"Hey," she starts quietly, before kicking his leg.
"Ouch! What was that for?!"
Marinette sticks her tongue out. "You can't just call people bad names like that!" She says, glaring disappointedly at him. "Go wash your mouth with soap."
"But I can't do that! It's gross!"
"Mama tells me that's the punishment for bad kids who say bad things," she warns him. "So don't say things like that again."
"..."
"Adrien."
"Fine!" He finally bites out, evidently irritated.
"And you have to say sorry."
"What?"
Marinette glares at him. "You have to say sorry to people you've said those things to. Because it hurts them."
"... it hurts?"
"Yeah," she explains, putting a hand to her heart. "Right here. And even more when it's someone we care about."
"Really?"
Marinette nods.
Adrien frowns, thinking to himself, before abruptly standing up. "I'm sorry, Marinette," he finally says. "I don't want to hurt you."
She beams at him. "And I'm okay now!" She says, raising her hands upward. "See, it's that easy!"
Adrien nods along, before remembering another person he has to say sorry to.
He stares at her. "I have to do something," he starts. "Can you wait for me?"
Marinette sighs, apologetic. "Sorry, I can't," she replies. "Mama and Papa are waiting for me downstairs. I just went here because you were crying so loud."
"Hey—!"
"But do what you have to do," she grins. "I'll see you again."
"Promise?" Adrien asks, sticking out his pinky finger.
She smiles, linking her pinky with his. "It's a pinky promise."
When Adrien returns to Chloé's apartment, the first thing he says is sorry.
They play house together, but roleplay as siblings. Adrien tells her that he can't play her husband; not when he wants someone else to play with his wife.
Marinette Agreste.
Doesn't sound too bad.
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Marinette keeps her promise.
Their meetings are short and infrequent, but he always treasures every moment.
The time he accidentally ruins his father's painting, she makes him apologize. The time Chloé bullies Sabrina, she tells him to make her stop. The time he gets the last macaron at a shop, she convinces him to share it with the crying baby outside.
Adrien can feel himself becoming a better person the more they meet. With every wrong he's done, she's there like a guardian angel to show him the right way.
She makes him kinder, stronger, and more honest.
It's at the tender age of eleven years old when Adrien Agreste decides that he loves her.
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The next year, Marinette only visits him once.
At the day of her funeral.
He sits alone, standing in front of her grave.
Emilie Agreste, Rest In Peace.
She doesn't say a word, only putting a hand on his shoulder.
He's grateful for it.
"At least you'll always be here for me," Adrien says.
She laughs softly, but doesn't reply.
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She shows up less and less, the older he gets.
After his mother passed away, his father had locked him in the house with almost no contact with the outside world.
Adrien wonders if that's why Marinette hasn't been showing up.
He knows in his heart, however, that it isn't true.
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"How did you get in here?"
"Is that a question you really want to know the answer to?"
"Maybe not."
Marinette leans her head on his shoulder, nuzzling closer to him.
He doesn't move.
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It is at fifteen years old when Adrien's father gets him a therapist.
"Do you see her now?" He asks.
"No."
The therapist nods, writing as Adrien watches Marinette peek over his shoulder.
"He's writing that you're crazy."
"I'm not crazy!"
The doctor looks up at him, and it's almost pitiful.
"Of course not."
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"Why are you doing this to me?"
The room is empty, but he knows she's watching. Waiting.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Adrien heaves, rubbing at his eyelids. He hasn't slept in days— weeks, even.
It's gotten to the point that even his father wants him to come outside, if even for a moment.
"I just want to be normal."
"No, you're too special for that."
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"Why are you crying?"
"Because I have to let you go."
"Why?"
"You aren't good for me."
"You told me I made you a good person."
"You did."
"What changed?"
"I'm not a kid anymore."
"..."
"I loved you."
"I'm not real."
"That doesn't mean my feelings weren't."
"The therapist was right. You are crazy."
"..."
"You're still a crybaby."
"I know. But I can handle these things on my own now."
"I hope you'll miss me."
"You were my first friend."
"I love you."
"..."
"Goodbye."
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Adrien sees the sun for the first time in months.
He feels lighter.
Nothing is holding him back anymore.
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end notes—
got some bad news today :) haha sorry for the sudden shift in the fic's tone (but that's life amirite keeps throwing curveballs at you when you least expect it)
anw i'll be back with better stuff soon
thank you for reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～