Something Sturdy
The storm had passed.
Marinette and Tikki breeched the shallows. It was dark, maybe an hour before dawn, if that. The lightning was gone and the winds had died down, but the sky was still covered with thick clouds, spitting drizzle on the bay below.
Lunimar fared alright, as far as Marinette could tell. All the human buildings along the coastline stood upright with every window intact. The few dinghies belayed to the Peasant's Harbor were battered, but none had sunk.
Marinette was possessed by an anxious, excited energy. With every kick the shore drew nearer. Waves crashed against the sand, their roar overpowering the drum of her pulse.
Tikki was no longer beside her.
Marinette looked over her shoulder. She had stopped swimming. "Tikki?"
"I'm not going any further," she said, trembling. Tikki had probably never been this close to shore.
Marinette pulled her into a hug, "Thanks for coming all this way."
Tikki returned the embrace, but it took her a moment to respond. "I… I hope you'll be happy," her voice wavered. "It's just… I'm going to miss you so much."
Marinette hugged her tighter. "I'll miss you, too." Marinette hated leaving Tikki this way. What could she do for Tikki so she wouldn't feel abandoned?
Inspiration struck.
"Listen," Marinette said, releasing her, "do you see that dock?"
Tikki's face scrunched as she followed Marinette's finger to the Peasant's Harbor. "The wood thing?"
"That's right. Every evening, when the sun sets, I'll stand on the edge of that dock and wait."
"Wait for what?"
"For you." Marinette smiled. "Everyday, you can come to the shallows and see that I'm okay."
Tikki shook her head. "Marinette, I'm not going to be able to come everyday. You might not, either."
"You don't have to show up. I don't expect to ever see you. But I'll be there until the sky grows dark. That's a promise." It wasn't much, but Marinette could save half an hour of the day for the friend she left behind. To let her know she hadn't forgotten her and that she was missed.
Tikki mulled it over, her brow furrowed. At last, she nodded, "That's good. If there's ever an emergency I'll know how to find you."
Marinette scanned the sky. The cloud cover was too thick. It was impossible to tell when dawn would come. She should go ashore as soon as possible, for safety's sake.
"I better go," Marinette said. "Thank you so much for seeing me off. And supporting me."
Tikki smiled miserably. "I'll miss you, Marinette. Be careful."
"I'm always careful."
Tikki laughed. Marinette might have been offended if she wasn't so glad to see her smile.
"Good bye."
Marinette lunged for the shore. For every pin of doubt that pricked her, a torrent of promise and excitement battered it away. By the time her fin hit seafloor Marinette forgot all her worries.
Her head broke water only to be swallowed by a wave. It surged her forward and her body rippled with the current. Her hands grabbed hold of slushy sand and she propelled herself above the surf. Dry land was only feet away.
Another wave struck her, pushing her even closer. Air's crushing gravity pinned her to the sand. One last wave nudged her.
The tide rolled out. Marinette was beached.
She felt it before she saw it. The bizarre slipping of her fin splitting into two. A newfound sensitivity to the scratchy grains of sand. The drizzle, which Marinette barely noticed before, were now like shards of ice piercing her skin. She moved a knee to her chest.
She had legs.
Chilly sea water crept toward Marinette's thigh, threatening to take her back out to sea. She scrambled out of the way of the waves. She only had three chances! She couldn't afford to waste one accidentally. She had to stay away from the water.
She clumsily crawled further up the beach. Tree branches and leaves littered the sand from yesterday's storm. They poked and stung her as she dragged the dead weight of her legs further away from the ocean. The wet sand coated her like a second skin. So far being a human was pretty gross.
A safe distance from the water, Marinette took a moment to catch her breath. Her whole body was shaking— no, shivering. Did all humans feel the cold this bitterly? Lunimar Bay could freeze over in winter, but Marinette was colder now than anytime she had swum beneath the ice.
She rubbed her arms. She would have to ignore the cold for now. She must get these legs working. Somehow.
Marinette expected feet and legs to be as dextrous as hands and arms, but that wasn't the case. Standing was proving to be a ridiculous challenge.
Her first few attempts ended with her collapsed on the beach. One attempt had her crawling around like a crab. Another and she was spitting sand out of her mouth. It was terrifying, shooting herself into the air with only her own spindly legs to support her.
She needed something sturdy.
She crawled her way to the peasant's dock. The wooden supports at the land end of the dock were just the thing to get Marinette on her feet.
She wobbled and her arms flung out to help balance her. She'd never been this high in the air! Obviously. It made her a little dizzy. She clung back to the dock.
If standing up had been a trial, walking was a gauntlet. Her legs were choosy about when they would support her weight and when they would plummet her face-first into the ground. The mushy, damp sand would shift under her feet and twist her ankles until she fell over. What even were knees?
Still, every time Marinette tried again, she got a few steps further. Sometimes she could get back off the ground without the support of the dock. Almost like a real human!
It was getting harder to ignore the cold. She wore her mainsail dress, but Marinette couldn't decide if it helped or if the sopping material just made her colder.
Legs shaking, she took her twelfth consecutive step. A new record. Could she make it up to the mesa?
"Hey! You there!"
Marinette yelped and was reintroduced to the sand.
"Whoa, are you alright?"
A shape loomed over her. Marinette wiped the sand off of her face and met eyes with a young human woman holding a black parasol. She had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders and wore thick, dirty boots that clashed with the delicate material of her loose gown.
She offered Marinette a hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
Marinette could only tremble out a nod. It was strange speaking with an actual human. Wrong and unlawful. Years of social conditioning tried to compel her to hop back in the ocean and swim away.
The human woman stared down at her, lovely curly hair framing her face. She kept her arm extended. "How long have you been out here in the rain?"
Marinette tried to answer, but her chattering teeth made her sputter. The woman kept her arm out, like Adrien had the other night. Was she supposed to do something with it?
"Poor thing, you're freezing," the human said. She took Marinette's hand, "Up you go." With the human's help, she stood. The human wrapped her shawl around Marinette's shaking shoulders and the warmth of it was comparable to a meal after starving.
"Th- thank you," Marinette stuttered out. Her balanced faltered, but the woman kept her steady.
"You're drenched and you can barely stand. What happened? Where'd you come from?"
Marinette instinctively looked out at the ocean.
"The sea? Were you shipwrecked?" the human extrapolated.
Marinette didn't say anything. She hadn't thought about a cover story for her human life. Being the victim of a shipwreck was as good as any other lie she could come up with for her origins, but Marinette was a terrible liar. Something about claiming to be a victim of a tragedy she didn't experience sat poorly with her too.
Unsure of how to proceed, Marinette shrugged.
"How awful! No wonder you can barely walk." The woman accepted her own theory as the truth, and Marinette wasn't going to argue with her.
She pointed at one of the houses looking out over the beach. "I live there. You should come inside and dry off." Marinette winced. That house was like, eighty steps away.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," the woman said, likely sensing Marinette's apprehension, "but if you stay out her much longer you're going to freeze to death."
"I- I'll go," Marinette said through her shivering, "Thank you. It's ju- just I think I need some help walking."
"Oh! Of course. I got you." The woman took her arms. Marinette felt half as heavy.
"What's you name?" the woman asked as she helped her cross the beach.
"M- Marinette."
The way to the mesa was a hike up uneven, sand-covered boulders. Marinette shook with fear, not cold, at the thought of falling down on solid rock.
"I'm Alya," she said. Her grip and stance were firm as she led Marinette up the ledge. "Lean on me."
-o-o-o-
Marinette was restored.
When Alya got her inside she placed Marinette in front of a strange stone cave that housed a fire. The heat stung, but in the best way. Alya wiped all the sand and grime off her with a fluffy rectangle of cloth, and drew her a hot bath.
Marinette was nervous at first. Master Fu said she had to avoid the sea or she would turn back into a mermaid. Would any water do it, or did it have to be salt water? Or was it just the ocean that could change her back? How much water would it take? Surely more than a drop. A bucketful? A wave's worth of sea water? Did she have to be completely submerged? She wasn't sure and regretted not asking when she could.
Marinette eventually reasoned if the rain didn't turn her into a mermaid, the bath water shouldn't either. All the same, she insisted Alya leave the room before she stepped into the tub.
She'd never experienced hot water and wasn't sure how she'd like it. It was divine. Within seconds, she fully thawed. The stiffness in her muscles melted away and the last, stubborn, loose grains of sand washed off of her in the steaming water. She scrubbed her body and hair with the "soaps" Alya offered her. They smelled wonderful.
Only when the bath had cooled to room temperature did Marinette get out. She dried herself off with another soft, warm cloth, and put on the dress Alya lent her.
It was nowhere near as grand as her ladybug gown, but there was an undeniable thrill to wear human clothing with human legs inside a human house. Not confident enough to spin, Marinette twisted her torso to watch the modest skirt flare out as much as it was able. She was giggling like a fool when Alya knocked on the door to the bathroom.
Alya changed into a new dress fit for working and sported a pair of thick glasses. She led Marinette back out into the room with the stone fireplace. The sand brushed off her earlier had been swept away and a thick blanket was laid out in front of the fire. They sat on top of it as Alya tended to Marinette's still dripping hair.
"I hope you don't mind my old dress," Alya said, running the human brush over Marinette's head. "It's not in great condition, but it's the closest thing I have in your size."
"Mind it? I love it," Marinette gushed. "Thank you so much for letting me borrow it. And for the bath and the soaps, and helping me up those rocks…"
"Okay, okay," Alya laughed, "It wasn't that big of a deal."
"It isn't?" The merfolk community would always help out the stray mermaid in distress (unless she was banished, of course), but bathing and clothing a stranger seemed extravagantly kind to Marinette. Was that the norm for humans?
"So, where are you from?" Alya asked, changing the subject.
Marinette froze. "What do you mean?"
"Like, where's your home?" Alya clarified. "If you don't mind me saying, the clothes you were wearing are a little strange. I've never seen anything like them. Did you get them from Huangxa? Katana?"
Marinette didn't even know where Katana was. How could she answer Alya's questions without giving herself away?
"I… don't know?"
"You don't know?" Alya stopped brushing her hair, "How could you…? Do you have amnesia or something? You hit your head?" Marinette hunched her shoulders as Alya's fingers groped her scalp. "I don't feel a bump…"
"I don't know," Marinette muttered. This could be bad. How many times could she deflect good questions with the weakest answer ever?
"Hm," Alya huffed. Marinette dared a peak at her. Alya looked concerned. Alya believing her only made Marinette feel guiltier.
"That's alright," Alya said, drumming the hairbrush on her palm. "Maybe you'll remember if you give it some time. Oh! Actually, we could ask Nino…"
"Nino?"
"My beau. He's a sailor," Alya grinned with such fondness it made Marinette smile, too. "He's been tons of places. Maybe he'll know where you're from."
Unlikely.
"Do you live here with Nino?" Marinette turned back to face the fire.
Alya resumed brushing her hair. "I wish. He's always on that ship of his. When he's not off on some adventure on the high seas he's watching the ship, cleaning the ship, running errands. Blah," she groused with humor. "I was just thinking about how sick I was of living alone."
-o-o-o-
"Adrikins, I'm bored," Chloe whined for the third time today.
"Oh? I'm sorry, Chloe," Adrien said diplomatically, but it grew harder to stay genuine.
This was the first time Chloe visited Edoire without a governess or a lady in waiting. Without anyone else her age to talk to, Adrien was given every single ounce of Chloe's attention, whether he wanted it or not.
But there was only so much to do locked up inside the palace, as Adrien knew all too well. Chloe grew tired of cards and board games. The palace garden hadn't recovered from the storm, and fell below Chloe's expectations. The Royal Harbor held no interest for her, and Adrien had at last resorted to showing her all the portraits of his ancestors lining the palace halls. The first time he gave her the tour, Chloe enjoyed examining the lady's dresses and making remarks about how she liked or disliked any of the jewelry they wore. But finally, this too lost her interest.
"Can't we go out to market or something?" Chloe asked, barely sparing a look at the portraits hanging above her.
"I'm afraid not. Everyone is busy cleaning up. The market won't be open today." They stopped at the top of a staircase below the largest portrait in the castle. "This is Dorian, my great, great grandfather. He did a lot of unscrupulous things I'm not sure we should be proud of, but Edoire wouldn't be what it is without him," Adrien explained half heartedly to a clearly unengaged Chloe.
Chloe stifled a yawn. "Is this the great, great grandfather who died trying to wrestle a shark?"
Adrien chuckled, "No, he was another great, great grandfather, but I see why you'd think that." Dorian looked intense in his commissioned portrait. Long ago, Edoire wasn't so much a country as a pirate nation. All of his royal ancestors had a bit of a wild look about them. "No, Dorian died after his ship sank… just outside the bay."
Chloe was quiet for a moment, and softly asked, "Are there any portraits from Queen Emelie's side of your family?"
Adrien shook his head. His mother didn't have a family, as far as he knew. She wasn't of royal blood. She was just a well respected member of Port Lunimar when his father fell in love and married her. A queen of the people. And the only portrait left of her wasn't part of the tour.
Chloe tapped her foot against the marble floor. "Let's do something else."
Someone walked by the bottom of the staircase. Adrien recognized him over the banister.
"Nino!" he called out below. Adrien never saw Nino at the palace without Alya. He jogged down the flight and intercepted him. They clapped hands in greeting. "Nino, what are you doing up here? I thought Alya had the day off?"
"She does," Nino nodded. "The Captain's talking with the king today and forgot a ledger back on the Liberty. I just got done playing errand boy."
"Adrien, who's this?" Chloe had followed him. She held a silk fan in front of her face. Did she have that before?
"I'm Nino, Lady Chloe. We've met," he said flatly. "Many times."
"I don't recall." She fluttered her fan.
"You're looking better," Adrien said to Nino. "Did you catch up on your sleep?"
"Yeah, some. Missed the whole storm. When I woke up the town was drenched and there were branches and leaves everywhere."
"I haven't had the time to go down," Adrien said, his eyes flicking over to Chloe. "Is Lunimar okay?"
"Oh yeah. It just looks a little messy right now. Once the suns out and people clear away the debris it'll look like it always does," Nino assured him.
"You'll have to take me out then, Adrien!" Chloe interjected. "I still want to go shopping!"
"Are you headed to Alya's after this?" Adrien asked Nino.
"Yep. Promised her some quality time when I no longer looked like walking death." He grinned sheepishly. "And then after that, the captain wants the crew to help move the Liberty out into the bay."
"Why?"
"She says she gets antsy when the Liberty's docked," Nino shrugged. "Personally, I'd be happier if we let her rest in Merchant's Harbor for a few days more. I love being on the ocean, but I'm exhausted."
"I'd take your place, if I could," Adrien said. It wasn't meant to be a controversial statement, but both his friends reacted with shocked incredulity.
"You would?"
"Adrien, have you ever sailed?" Nino asked.
"I haven't been on water since…" My mom. "But I'd like to. I've wanted to learn to sail for a while now, but my father is against it,"
"Sorry, buddy," Nino winced.
"Boats and I don't agree," Chloe said, unhappy at not being the focus of every conversation.
"He's even against you learning the ropes on a full rigged ship like the Violet Papillon? Or even a brigantine like the Liberty? It's a totally different experience compared to a sailboat," Nino said.
"The distinction never came up," Adrien sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Well, maybe float that idea his way," he suggested, putting his hands on his hips. "I know you don't like being confrontational, especially with the king. But if you really want to sail, it's something you're going to have to fight for, you know? If you back down he's just going to think you never wanted it all that badly."
Adrien's first instinct was to argue, to say that no matter how many times he pled, and begged, and bargained, his father's answer would always be the same. But was that true? Was the only thing keeping Adrien from sailing his lack of a sturdy backbone? Did he not want it bad enough?
"What's this I hear? Ye be wanting to sail the seas, lad?"
Adrien jumped. Captain Hardrock had snuck up behind him, as silent as a shark.
"Who's this?" Chloe asked, alarmed.
"Captain," Nino saluted.
Captain Hardrock, arms folded across her chest, eyed Adrien expectantly with an eager lopsided grin. She was waiting for an answer.
"Er… yes."
"That's wonderful!" she boomed, slapping Adrien painfully on the shoulder. Her other hand formed a passionate fist. "There's nothing better for a young soul than the freedom of the open sea. If I'd known ye'd had an interest, I'd have taken ye on the Liberty ages ago!" She strode toward the castle exit and waved him along, "C'mon, I'll show ye how she works an' you can help anchor her in the bay."
The offer was tantalizing. Adrien wanted to more than anything. No one was looking. Chloe wouldn't tell on him. But…
"Thank you, Captain," Adrien sighed, "but I can't."
"Can't?"
"My father." That was all he had to say. If anyone found out he'd snuck onto a ship and it got back to the king, it would be the captain and the crew of the Liberty who would pay the price. "He forbade me from going out on the water."
"Forbade ye from-?" Captain Hardrock inflated like an incensed bird. "Of all the silly nonsense! Ye can't just cage someone away from the sea, that stuffy no-good—"
"Captain, don't forget, you're talking about your king," Nino reminded her nervously.
Hardrock growled, "Bah! Listen here, Highness." She pointed a stubby finger at Adrien's nose. "Ye want to sail?"
"Y- Yes?" he stuttered.
"With conviction now!" she bellowed. "Do. Ye want. To sail?"
More than anything. "I do," he insisted, straightening his back. He'd be tougher. He'd face his father again and show him how much this meant to him…
"Then I'll talk to the bespectacled git for ye!" Captain Hardrock turned on her heel and headed back down the hall.
Wait, what?
"Mark me words, you'll be swabbing decks and hoisting sails before the end of the week!" she shouted, her finger in the air.
Oh, no. She shouldn't do that. She could lose her job! Adrien might be intimidated by his father, but at least he didn't have to worry about being fired from being his son!
…Probably.
"Captain Hardrock, wait. Please, don't get yourself into trouble on my account," Adrien pled to her back. She disappeared around the corner. He had to stop her.
Nino caught his arm, "Adrien, relax. She's got this."
He wasn't convinced. She was bound to be at his father's study by now. It was too late.
"I hope I didn't cost you your job," Adrien grimaced.
Nino shared none of his anxiety. "The Captain's formidable," he said. "If anyone can persuade the king, it's her… I think," he added.
Chloe leaned against the wall, arms crossed and expression sour. "Are we done?"
-o-o-o-
The clouds thinned out by the afternoon. The ocean from outside Alya's windows was slate grey with choppy whitecaps.
Marinette spent the morning after breakfast (cooked eggs, bread, and some land animal meat) assisting Alya with chores when she could. Alya never requested her help, but Marinette was endlessly enthusiastic about using a "broom" and fetching water from the "pump" and scrubbing "dishes" and asking Alya what each dish was called, because they all had different names!
"Girl, are you messing with me? You've got to know what a cup is," Alya called out from the living room.
Marinette's grin wavered, "O- of course! I know," she said, when in fact, she did not. "Cup," she said under her breath so Alya couldn't hear her.
She flicked the water off from the cup and set it on the drying rack. The dishes were done. She reluctantly dried her hands on the apron of her dress because Alya insisted that was what it was for. Marinette hated dirtying her first human outfit.
She rejoined Alya in the living room. In front of the dying fire, Alya sat curled up on a padded chair, a basket full of mismatched clothing at her side. Alya squinted over at a little red sock, darning the hole out of it. A dozen spools of colorful thread in a wooden box lay in her lap.
Marinette gasped. A real sewing kit!
Alya heard and glanced up. The needle caught her finger.
"Ow!" Alya shot her hand away, shaking it in the air.
Marinette winced. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I just poked myself," Alya grumbled, looking for blood. "I told my mom I'd darn up the holes in my sister's clothes, but I'm no good at sewing."
A longing hope so potent it almost made her ill crept into Marinette's chest. She tried not to sound desperate when she asked, "May… may I try?"
Alya raised her eyebrows, "Have you sewn before?"
"A little. Kind of." Marinette had tinkered with her handmade tools back at the atoll. A needle made of sea urchin spine, sea grass twine for thread, and whatever was jettisoned off a boat for cloth. If she made that work, surely she could handle a real human needle and thread. Right?
Alya stood and motioned for Marinette to sit in her cozy chair, "Be my guest."
Marinette squealed with delight. Alya worked on putting out the fire while Marinette darned. She'd seen patch up work on clothes lost at sea and studied the stitching. Her underwater tools were too clunky to replicate the tight knitting, but Alya's metal needle worked like magic. It glided in and out of the sock as if the wool was water.
Marinette tied a knot in the thread and cut it with her teeth. She turned the sock right side out and examined her work. The hole was gone.
"Is this alright?" Marinette showed Alya the sock. Alya took a break from cleaning ashes to give her a thumbs up.
"It's great. Better than my work, anyway. Thanks a lot."
Marinette beamed with pride.
Knocking erupted from the front door.
"Oh, that'll be Nino," Alya said, surprised. "I forgot to change. Do I look okay?" she asked Marinette.
Marinette mimicked Alya's thumbs up, hoping it meant approval as she'd inferred. Alya nodded and opened the door.
Nino, presumably, leaned against the doorway. He looked like a sailor, Marinette thought, with his sensible boots, red hat, and handkerchief tied around his neck.
"Hey, babe," he greeted Alya with a kiss. Marinette blushed. He hadn't realized she was there yet.
"Hey, listen, let's go to Couffaine's tonight," Alya suggested to him.
Nino's head quirked. "Okay? I thought we were just going to hang out here and, oh." He spotted her. Marinette waved shyly.
"You have a guest. How do you do? I'm Nino." He stuck his hand out to her, just like Adrien and Alya had. Did he want her to take it? Cautiously, she raised her hand and he firmly shook it up and down. Marinette caught herself from falling over.
"Nino, this is Marinette," Alya said on her behalf. "Um, I'll tell you all about her while we're out. Marinette, will you be okay by yourself?"
Marinette trembled a nod. "Yes… Can I keep working on the darning?"
"Can you? Please. I'd love it if it were just done. See you in a while." Alya slipped a shawl on and tugged Nino's arm.
"Nice to meet you," Nino said, closing the door.
When she was sure they were gone, Marinette relaxed. No one accused her of being a mermaid yet, but she knew Alya thought she was strange. It was just hard not to be excited learning all about human stuff. She'd need to work harder to keep her enthusiasm in check in the future.
She happily examined the next item needing darning, a pair of pants worn threadbare around the knees. A patch would work best for this. She found a suitable one among the sewing things, threaded the needle, and got to work. Quietly, she repeated back all the new words she'd learned that day.
It must have been hours, but it barely registered to Marinette. She turned a long-sleeved shirt right side out. Satisfied, she folded and set it aside with the growing stack of freshly darned clothing. She reached down for her next project, but could grab onto nothing. The bin was empty.
"What?" she groaned, disappointed. She searched around and under the bin for anything she might have missed, but it was no use. She'd finished all the darning Alya needed done.
Marinette glumly stuck the needle back into the case holding all the spools and cleaned the chair of loose thread fibers. Now what should she do?
The door swung open.
"Marinette, I'm home." Alya hung her shawl by the door.
What timing! Marinette bounded up to her. "Alya, welcome home. I just finished the darning."
Alya saw the neatly folded pile of clothes on the arm of her chair and did a double take. "All of it? Were you sewing this whole time? You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to," Marinette insisted. "Thank you for taking me in."
Alya put her hands on her hips. "I couldn't leave you all alone on the beach, could I?"
Wait.
Marinette rushed to the window. "What time is it?" The sun's bottom touched the opposing shore of the bay. "Oh!" Marinette squeaked. She had to go!
Marinette bolted out the door.
"Marinette, where are you going?" Alya called after her.
Marinette waved behind her and sprinted out onto the peasant dock, wind buffeting her hair. She slowed to a walk as the sand beneath the dock turned to ocean. At the edge of the pier she stopped and grabbed a hold of one of the rope wrapped pillars belaying the boats.
The sun wasn't half way down. She kept her promise to Tikki.
The wood creaked behind her. Alya followed her, eyebrows drawn together with concern.
"You shouldn't walk outside without shoes, girl. You'll give yourself a splinter," she scolded. "Why'd you want to come out here?"
"It's sunset," Marinate said simply. Stupidly.
Alya crossed her arms and sighed. "It's real pretty, I give you that."
It was. Fluffy cotton clouds were smeared across the sky, stained with the oranges and pinks of the setting sun. Every time she'd seen the dusk before it had been in secret, and all alone. To watch it freely, with someone at her side…
Emotion surged into Marinette, she didn't know from where. Water rolled down her face, but not from rain. She wiped her cheek.
"Whoa, hey. Are you alright?" Alya patted her back, soothing. "What's with the tears?"
"Tears?" Was she crying? Mermaids didn't cry.
Humans did, though.
"Let's go inside, I'll make us up some dinner," Alya said gently.
No. It wasn't dark yet.
"I'd like to stay out here a little longer." Marinette's throat burned. "Is that okay?"
Alya let go of her. "Of course. If you're sure. Just come inside when you're ready."
Alya left and Marinette rode out the tears. Before long, the sun sank out of view and the brightest of the stars twinkled in the twilight. When the sky grew black, she walked back to Alya's for dinner. Marinette never saw Tikki.
-o-o-o-