"What about a friend?"

"I told you, she hasn't talked since I brought her here."

The two convened in the hallway, dimly lit, an open door letting light in. Inside of the room, they turned to look at a sleeping Marinette wrapped in a wool blanket. Adrien lay his emerald's on her and watched the peace of her silent and steady breathing.

Nino immediately saw the look of concern on his face. He rubbed his neck. "You pick up a girl off of the street, don't take her to a doctor, and just let her live in your apartment quietly for two days? That's crazy."

Crazy was a bit harsh towards someone who was genuinely being this kind to another, but it was the unfortunate truth. There were dangers to picking someone like this off of the sidewalk. Adrien folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the open doorway.

"She has to have some acquaintances."

Adrien eyed his friend. He swiped a hand under his nose with a sniff, looking to the sleeping beauty. "I wouldn't count on it just yet." Her dark locks were clean-much cleaner than when he first found her. Surprisingly enough, he knew what effort it took to get her to look that amount of clean. The past two days were filled with zero response. When she did respond, she'd break out into crying fits, or he'd catch her sobbing alone.

"Adrien, you can't just keep her here."

They locked eyes.

"She has to go somewhere-"

"No way," His arms folded, "I'm not putting her up in a home."

Nino furrowed his brows. He didn't like it. His best friend formed dark eye rings and looked so tired, all over some newfound stranger. Angel was the perfect word to describe this man, but the scenario they were facing off in was drudging up painful memories from the past.

Adrien's behavior was the same from then. His face looked exactly like it did now.

Nino touched his arm, easing this important question in, "Adrien… You're not doing this out of guilt, are you?"

That finally brought his attention back. Adrien only blinked his eyes, as if not knowing what ever Nino spoke of.

"Guilt?"

Nino didn't need to respond to that. Adrien sighed.

"Nino, it's not like that."

"It looks like it. I dunno, maybe I'm wrong. But you have this girl that you've only known for two days. You've been taking care of her like she's important."

"Should a doctor be without compassion?"

He froze. There was almost a stinging warmth from the blonde's sudden smile that hit Nino in the chest. So much gentleness was packed behind that expression that it almost hurt to see Adrien so pleased while over exerting himself.

"This is my job," assured said blonde, "I can't ignore the cry of a patient."

"Yes-you are a doctor." Nino said defeatedly. "But you're not a foster parent."

"I know, Nino." Then he felt as if they were getting a little too loud. He placed a palm on his friend's back, pushing him farther into the thin hallway. "... I've been searching for anyone that might know her. Nothing has turned up. Besides, she's still really sick."

"Hello?"

The two snapped towards the sound. Adrien questioned whether it was the ringing in his ears from sleep deprivation, but the still small voice repeated itself.

"Anyone?"

Adrien rushed to grab Nino's jacket from the rack and tossed it to him.

"Wah-hey!"

"Look, I promise if I don't find anything out in the next three days, I'll get her checked in somewhere. But I know she doesn't have the money to pay for hospital bills and I can't do that to someone I'm aware is suffering."

Nino took note of Adrien's tone lowered to almost a whisper. He sighed and started sliding on his jacket. "You better promise me."

"Promise."

"Am I alone?"

"Just a minute!" Adrien gave a good stare to Nino, then patted his shoulder as he ran to the kitchen.

Nino sighed, exiting the house. "Not even a formal good-bye. Okay."

The sound of someone humming lead my feet. Each creek in the wooden tiles was so nostalgic. They made my heart flutter. I wonder why that was? The beige color of the walls, the worn down beams with small light bulbs hanging about-they made me feel as if something was amiss. I missed them despite living here.

The smell of paint floating from the end of the hall made me yearn to turn that corner. From where I was sneaking, I could see the sun breaking into the living room. The hummer drew closer.

I felt a grin stretch across my face as I peeked around the bend. Standing in front of a canvas was the back of a painter with bright red hair. Each strand practically glowed beneath the rays of sun. His crooning was gentle with mediocre notes, but still satisfactory and relaxing to listen to. He obviously was unaware of my presence, as he kept going without a care.

He often did paint at weird times. It seemed to be a popular quirk amongst artists. But what was he so intensely focusing on so early in the morning?

"Watcha painting?"

Nathanaël nearly threw his paint brush and palette, whirling around with his arms behind his back. "M-Mari," a nervous grin stretched across his cheeks, "what are you doing up so early? I-I didn't wake you up, did I?"

I folded my arms, leaning against the doorway.

"No, I just wasn't tired anymore. Apparently you aren't either." I started approaching. I wondered how long I could hold out my curiosity. His nervous face was just really cute.

With each step I took, the more his arms extended. "I-It's not finished yet!"

"Uh-huh, then why is your face so red?"

We took a moment to stare at one another. His cheeks were red at this point. That made me a little jealous for some reason. What was he hiding so badly? Was it a girl he was crushing on or something? I think I didn't like that idea because we told each other everything.

A devious grin formed on my lips. I lunged my arms out for the frame. Nathanaël quickly spun around and grabbed the edges, preventing me from grabbing it.

"Marinette, stop!"

"Let me see!" I giggled, holding onto it tightly from behind him. "What're you so nervous about!?"

"I-I'm not!" He struggled. My hands found their way to his sides. I began tickling.

Nathanaël let go, breaking out into fits of laughter. The moment he left and opening, I gave him a light shove out of the way. "Let's see what you're-!"

"Wait!"

My eyes widened. It was hard for me to explain what I was seeing. I don't even think I had a single feeling at that moment. Just confusion.

"No." He said to himself.

"Is..."

On the portrait was a girl with raven hair. She slept quietly on the couch from our living room, light shining in on her from a cracked window. Each eyelash and each hair strand had such detail in it, and she appeared to almost have a radiating light around her.

"It's you."

I turned to look at him. His turquoise eyes were lowered to a corner, cheeks redder than before. He didn't appear to be shaking any more. Just a bit embarrassed.

I had almost no response in mind. Just questions. Nathanaël had painted pictures of me before, but only while I was present. He had taught me how to paint as well, so I drew tons of pictures of him sporting different clothes.

We were willing models.

I didn't want to get ahead of myself as to why he would try and hide it. My mind reasoned that he was just embarrassed. Yeah. Nathanaël was an easily embarrassed and nervous human being.

A tense giggle came from my throat. "Nathanaël, this isn't something to be shy over."

"I don't paint girls that vividly just because of practice, Marinette."

My heart thumped loudly at the sudden serious tone of voice. He was looking me in the eyes now.

"When you were napping yesterday, I couldn't get that imagine out of my head. I remembered every detail perfectly, from the color of your cheeks to the length of your eyelashes."

He approached and his fingers unexpectedly wrapped around my hand. I flinched, looking up at him.

"But it's not the first time I've payed special attention to you. My paintings always seem to rat out what I'm really thinking..."

It was then a sense of realism overwhelmed me. I knew that this was something that wasn't happening currently, but something that had happened in the past. I knew Nathanaël wasn't standing here. I remembered the rest of what transpired that morning.

"Marinette?"

I placed a hand over my mouth. It was happening again. This wasn't real.

"Why are you crying?"

I wondered if I shed tears like this then, too.

That was the dream she woke up from. This time she didn't scream, nor did she break down into fits of wails and agonizing turmoil. She only opened her eyes, tears stroking her hot cheeks. She didn't wonder where she was. Marinette had been waking up here for a couple of days now.

"Just a minute!" he responded to her previous calls. It sounded like someone else was currently leaving the house. The owner was a doctor, so it wasn't shocking. Marinette got these details just from watching him.

Yet it was still unclear as to why this person proceeded with housing her.

Marinette sat up, a thick blanket wrapped around her body. Every night, she'd have dreams about Nathaniel being alive. Every day, she'd wake up to a room so white, she wondered how the owner dealt with stains.

Honestly, the place was a little bland and lacked any artistic flare. It was very basic.

It made her feel extremely homesick to a place she could never return to. It already happened once, and now it's happened a second time.

Marinette was so tired of crying. Marinette was tired of feeling miserable.

The girl slowly slipped her tongue between her teeth, tears welling up in her eyes-

"-Sorry it took so long."

She gasped at the sound of his voice. He had the same gentle grin on his face like every morning. Despite spending a couple of days with this man, she hadn't ever asked his name, his age, or even thanked him. Her mind was constantly occupied with other things. Yet he still dealt with her depression, and was currently holding a tray with soup and tea freshly prepared.

He placed it on the night stand next to his bed, the place she was allowed to sleep. "I know I'm not the best cook, but you seem to bare with me, so it shouldn't be too bad, right?"

Marinette stared blankly at the food. Adrian just kept looking at her. He expected crying any minute now. From what he saw in such a short time, she had old burn scars, scars from injury, scars that would go unspoken of...

Maybe that was why he couldn't leave her alone. She was miserable, and Adrian had no right to impose on her life but… it was his nature. He couldn't stand there and let her die.

He couldn't let her end up like…

… No, he wouldn't let this be the same. He wouldn't let what happened drive his actions as a doctor.

His eyes floated to her shoulders. They seemed to be quivering. The poor thing was probably still freezing from the fever.

"Do you want another blanket? I can get you one."

Her eyes seemed to flicker. Before the girl only had dead responses or fits of crying. Was she actually responding to his words? A spark of drive pinched his heart, then faded away with that flicker in her eyes. He sighed, but at least he had gotten close.

Adrian turned on his heel, "I'll be back, okay?"

Marinette's eyes blinked from his back, and then to herself. Her hand subconsciously began reaching under her pillow, a place she had been keeping that old picture for safe keeping-

-then felt nothing. She fumbled for it more. Still nothing but clean sheets.

A wave of panic began rushing over her as she started to tear off the blankets, checking all around the bed. Where? Where could it have gone?

It couldn't have been lost, it couldn't have-!

A well known image drew her attention to the night stand. She saw her most precious thing within her peripheral and whipped around towards it. Marinette almost had the breath ripped out of her at the sight.

There was her beloved picture, standing clean in a small picture frame by her head.

She stared in silence at it for a drawn out few seconds. As her fingers touched the hand-carved casing, she picked it up and stared blankly. A single tear fell at that moment. The man had done this.

It was then that Adrien came back, another quilt folded in his arms. "Let's seize that shaking now-" his eyes widened at the sudden mess. His sheets and blankets were all in mangled folds, almost like a tornado had hit. Pillows were at the foot of the bed, and the mattress itself was showing.

He was about to ask what happened, but locked onto her staring at the photo.

"Were you looking for that?"

Marinette peered up at him, then down at the mess she had made. "I-I'm sorry."

Adrien's heart thumped. A word, no-two words. She actually had said two words.

He smiled. The mess wasn't important. These results were all that mattered. Adrien grabbed hold of the other quilt and began wrapping both of them around her body. "It's okay. I can fix it later."

"Why did you do this?"

"Hm? Well, it seemed really important. I didn't want it to get ruined somehow. I hope you don't mind."

How could she mind? How could she mind anything of what he had done so far? Did his generosity know no limits?

Yet Marinette still couldn't find it in her will to thank him yet. She could only stare bewitched at the pristine frame.

"I hope you don't mind me asking… who is he?"

"He was my husband."

Adrien felt his heart sink. He knew something terrible must have happened, yet couldn't control what came out next.

"Was?"

"We weren't married long. Only about a month." Gently, she placed the photo back on the night stand. "He died in a fire."

This was why. This was the Nathanaël Adrien heard repeated over and over again-it had to have been. Was fire the reason she was homeless? Why did she have no other family?

No; he couldn't ask those questions just yet. The girl was only just starting to open up.

On the other hand, Marinette could tell he was trying to think of words to say. She was aware of the situation she had put this man in. A man she didn't even know the name of. Part of her didn't want to know in fear of attachment. Part of her knew it was write to repay him for his efforts.

Nathanaël, would you be upset if I got to know him?

"... You've helped me so much."

Adrien looked at her.

"No, more than that… you saved my life. Even after that you took care of me on my own. You fed me, treated me, even bathed me, but managed to somehow respect my privacy at the same time."

He blinked, slightly confused, "what-"

"No matter how much I screamed and cried," she spoke over him, starting to feel pathetic, "you, a stranger, took time to make sure I didn't die, even though I really wanted to."

"You're right, you're not an angel. You're a guardian angel."

Adrien felt his cheeks flush simultaneously with his melting heart. The boy fell to his knees in relief, running hands through his hair. It was the first release of high tension stress he had felt over the past forty-eight hours.

"What… I wasn't prepared to be bombarded like this."

Marinette could tell he was fighting back tears. It was only then she started paying special attention to the dark circles under his eyes. He must have been lacking sleep, too.

Had she really contemplated killing herself in his home earlier? How could she have been so cruel to such a generous gentleman?

She had waited long enough. Inwardly, she sent an apology to her deceased loved one.

"My name is Marinette."

Adrien looked up at her. She wasn't smiling, but she certainly looked more human than the previous hours.

"What's yours?"

He smiled up at her, relaxing. "Adrien. Adrien Agreste-" then stopped, eyes widening and smile stretching at something he caught onto.

Adrien slapped a hand over his mouth, starting to laugh. Marinette raised a brow.

"What? Is it my name?"

"No, no! Your bed-head-I mean hair. It looks great in the morning."

The girl seized, blushed, then began smoothing it down furiously. Stupid kinky locks…

A cup with floating steam was moved in front of her face. It was the tea from earlier. Adrien was still smiling, but he seemed more light-hearted than earlier.

"It's going to get cold. You can't go longer without eating, or you'll get worse."

She blinked. It wasn't like Marinette wanted to get better. Every person she encountered ended up dead somehow. But she was tired. She was tired of running and fighting-even herself.

The girl reached out for it.

"Thank you."

He beamed. Finally. Finally she was opening. This hadn't been a mistake at all.

"Don't mention it."

Nino's mind was cluttered with various thoughts. He walked down the cold street, little flakes of snow floating down from a grey sky.

Images of a blonde woman smiling appeared in his mind. Images of a blonde woman suffering intercepted the prior. The strongest thoughts of them all was Adrien sitting on a bench under that dying tree, soaked in water as the rain poured heavy on him.

Adrien was too nice. He knew this. Nino, knowing he wasn't capable of doing much only sighed, adjusting his newsboy cap.

"You're sure she was seen around here?"

Nino looked up to see two men in full suit talking to a homeless man. He had long graying hair, barely any teeth, and enlarged joints. The man just barely spoke French in response,

"I seen' er. She used t' linger round'. Walkin' diggin'. Last I saws her, she looked like she was bout' dyin'."

Nino blinked at the conversation. One of the men tipped their hats towards the old timer.

"Thanks." Then began to trail off, specifically towards where Nino stood. The three of them locked eyes. The man asking questions had black, slicked back hair beneath his hat, and dark brown eyes as he approached.

"Young man, do you live around here?"

"Sort of." Nino wasn't sure, but it sounded like they might have been looking for the girl Adrien had taken in. Under normal circumstances, he would have helped them, but…

"Is it okay if we ask you something?"

"Sure." ...something about them seemed slimey.

"Good." The raven-haired man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a photo. Nino squinted, then rounded his eyes. "Have you seen this girl? We've been lookin' for her."

That was her. Nino only caught a glimpse, but this couldn't have been a coincidence. Under normal circumstances, he would have helped them, sure. But he made a promise to Adrien. That and these men appeared less than trustworthy. But why? He couldn't put his finger on it.

"If your gut tells you something, listen to it," rang Mr. Agreste's words in his head.

"Why? You guys cops or something?"

The man gave a heart chuckle. "Oh, no, no. We're family."

Right. They didn't look it. Nino stood up straight. "You appear to be pretty calm for someone searching for a family member."

That was when the second man came into focus; a blonde fellow with hazel eyes. His face twisted in frustration. "You little punk-!"

"Quiet, Emanuel." The more relaxed man adjusted his hat, turning back to Nino. "Have you seen her or not?"

"I haven't."

They had almost a staring competition. This was the usual time Nino would start showing signs of fear and give away his lie, but honestly, no-one scared him more than Adrien's father. Comparing Gabriel Agreste to these two made it easier to keep a straight facade.

"Alright," he stood down, "thank you, sorry to bother you."

"No problem."

The began walking past him, the blonde named Emanuel purposely bumping shoulders with Nino.

The tan boy looked back, watching them vanish behind the snow.

He let out a visible breath, eyes narrowed and fixed on their backs.

A/N: HOW DID I START SOMETHING AND THEN TOTALLY FORGET ABOUT IT?

I'M SO SORRY /CRIES

Here's the second installment! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Love you~!