Hello...
First of all...
I'M SO SO SO SORRY! I lost everything due to one drive and bad internet connection, so I've had to come up with this quite quick. Sorry, it's so short!
Also...
28 FOLLOWERS! OH MY GOD YOU GUYS! DO YOU KNOW HOW AMAZING YOU ARE! I'm so happy someone liked it. And special thanks to those who reviewed. I really didn't think anyone would like it.
Also, sorry it sucks, I've only got a few more chapters until the Akuma attacks.
Once again, criticism is appreciated!
Enjoy!
DING
The shop's bell echoed through the isolated store as Adrien stepped foot inside. Illuminated by only a small lamp, the darkness seemed to loom where the light couldn't reach it. The boy studied his surroundings carefully, his eyes trailing along the ragged outline of the shelves.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" Adrien frowned as his question was replied by only a mere echo. He hesitantly took a step, his shoes squelching against the floor. Maybe he shouldn't be here. But it was the only place that was open. He briefly considered turning back, but he knew he would only be met by the rain that was pouring down on the streets outside. There was no other option but forward. So onward he went.
As he walked down the twisting path, he felt another presence around him. The young model decided to collect the lamp in order to not crash into a bookshelf. He turned and was met by two bright green eyes.
"Argh!" He screamed and abruptly fell back into the bookshelf, causing an orchestra of falling books. How ironic.
"Meow."
It was a cat.
Adrien sighed in relief. The black feline started towards him, before letting out an almighty hiss and running into the darkness.
"Don't worry. Plagg does that to everyone."
Adrien recoiled in shock as he pivoted his head to the opposite direction. There stood a senile man, no younger than ninety. The older of the two had donned a red Hawaiian shirt and sandals. An interesting combination, due to the current weather.
The old man smiled. "Good evening, sir. How may I help you?"
Adrien blinked, not quite sure how to respond. Here he was, submerged in a pile of books, and this man- who was rather odd- was treating him as he would any other customer. He couldn't say he'd come in here to seek refuge from the rain. That'd be rude. This ancient man could die any day now. He wouldn't want to be the reason of his inevitable death. He frantically searched the shop for any signs of what he should speak of next. But all his vision could grasp was shelves of infinite books.
Hmm...
"I... um... I came here to look for a book."
The man who wore a red shirt grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Young man, you're in a bookstore. I think you've come to the right place."
Hurriedly, Adrien pushed himself off of the floor. No matter what state his mental health was in, he was determined not to be humiliated. Clearing his throat, he started again, blushing furiously.
"I would like to get a book which would guarantee me a good read. Something... something worthwhile."
After he forced the words out his mouth, he came to believe them. Besides, he needed a distraction from his father at the moment, as pissed as he was. He doubted any form of literature could possibly help him, but it was worth a try.
"So you want an adventure, a road on which will lead you to endless possibilities?" The stranger's eyes were still twinkling, not with the mischief it had once held, but with another emotion.
Adrien's face at that instant defined confused. His eyebrow's arched at the elderly man's comment, before agreeing that, yes, he was looking for endless possibilities.
If endless meant that he could outrun his father and lead a more normal life, then he could use a little endless.
He followed the small man through the twisting path, sucking on his multiple paper cuts before they abruptly stopped before a large wooden bookshelf that stood over them.
"Here you are, sir. These are the books of endless opportunity. I hope you find what you are looking for." The petite man bowed his head before merging into the darkness. After the few seconds that Adrien had spent gazing at the obscurity that lay before him.
Adrien shook his head and chewed his lip in confusion. "Weird..."
Instead of browsing through books, he sunk to the floor and allowed his thoughts to regain control over him.
Adrien just couldn't believe his father had the nerve to do this to him.
That was a lie. His father was usually drowned in his work, his medication and his grief that he thought he had the right to do just about anything to his son. Adrien had desperately tried to break the habit of doing his father's bidding, but even Chloe was mortified of what may happen to him if he defied Gabriel Agreste's orders.
Adrien knew it was hard. He had caught the depression bug, too, and knew the amount of time it would stay with you. Still, why take it out on him? It's all he ever did. It made him want to punch something...
"FUCKING HELL! Argh..." Adrien shouted into the empty silence, cradling his now bruised fist. He gazed up at the bookshelf and wondered what sort of Goddamn material it was made of.
Adrien looked back down at his fist, his eyes lingering on a piece of paper that lay on the floor. He bent over to pick it up, in order to place it back on the shelf but was intrigued by the content that it may hold inside. Cautiously, as if it were some sort of forbidden scripture, he unfolded the fallen papers.
Adrien had a feeling something big was about to happen. Something big and marginally beautiful. And he knew he wanted it to.
This letter is for no one.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Marinette was freaking out.
There was no other way to put it. She found a plethora of thoughts swimming in her mind, and she was trying to decide which one was the most important, the one she couldn't let drown, the one she had to hold on to.
She just couldn't believe that someone had had the nerve to steal the letter from the shelf.
Her letter. Containing the thoughts that lingered in the back of her mind, the ones she tried her very best to ignore. There wasn't a worse possible outcome then the one that had occurred. Minus someone such as Alya or her parents.
Why had she done this in the first place? She knew that this had been a bad idea. No, she had to have done this. Otherwise, she would have sunk into a sea of depression a millennium ago.
But that was your plan in the first case, wasn't it? To seek help and refuge from those whose path you have yet to cross in life?
"Shut up me." Marinette frowned before realising that Fu would probably think she was crazy.
Wait a minute...
That little bastard!
Calm down Mari, no one found it. It probably got eaten by rats. Or a dinosaur. Or anything that your stupid fickle mind will believe.
Damn my fucking self.
Marinette exhaled slowly and raised her head up high before walking towards Fu's office. Placing a sickly sweet smile over her angered features, Marinette raised her hand ready to knock on (or punch down) the goddamn door.
"Come in."
Marinette froze. Had she knocked without noticing? She didn't think she had, but everything seemed to be racing along ahead of her, so she presumed that she must've. Why was she making a big deal out of this?
Cautiously, she stepped into the office clearing her throat to make her presence known. The old man swivelled around on his chair. For some reason, he was stroking a wrinkled turtle, that had a weird antennae thing poking from its head. Which wasn't odd in the slightest. Not at all.
Marinette analysed the room. It was a regular sized room (was there such thing as a regular sized room? Was that when it wasn't too big or too small?) with bamboo floorboards. It was quite abnormal, and for a second lead Marinette to think of Fu a Panda, and she felt a small giggle climb up her throat before pushing it back down. She was here for one reason and for one reason only, and it wasn't to think of Fu as a panda, hilarious as it looked in her head. She was here to yell at his stupid tiny ass.
She tried again to look for any sign of the crumpled piece of paper that she'd spilt her heart into, but with no avail. Her lips tightened together and formed a small pout, and she tapped her foot whilst her eyes scanned the room.
Fu just sat there, eagerly waiting for any sudden movements that may re-awaken the conversation.
Marinette's head lingered on a spot next to Fu's head before realising she'd been looking around the room for five minutes without a single word emerging from her mouth. She should probably say something.
"So... do you remember that time when I like, threw-up on that very chair, and then had to go to a hospital because I couldn't stop throwing up?!"
Silence. Fu cracked a grin. Marinette's face reddened. "Uh... sorry... I was just... um..."
She cleared her throat once more and tried again. After taking in a deep breath and raising her shoulders to make her feel more confident - a trick she'd learnt from Bri- she started again.
"Fuck you."
She paused, not knowing what else to say. Frankly, she didn't think she'd get this far, so instead of looking for a fight, she turned on her heel before strutting out of the store.
That felt good.
Marinette thought it then to be best to head back to... Where ever she came from.
Where was she going again?
Right. School. Class. Alya. Normal things which the government forced her to do.
Her eye's widened. Alya. Lunch. With her parents. How the heck was she supposed to explain this to them!? She'd been gone for at least 20 minutes. Thank God Alya knew how to stall people with excellent outcomes.
She just hoped her parents wouldn't get mad at her. Actually, she was admittedly she was admittedly more scared of Alya's wrath than her father's. But she had (sort of) explained to Alya she was visiting her 'special place'. So hopefully her ears would stay intact instead of Alya's raging of the latest gossip or news report she'd missed.
Besides, she was hungry.
Adrien stood outside the looming house, his fingers lingering over the polished inter-com. Could he run away? More importantly, did he have the guts? Because that's all that mattered. No one cared about him. Not really. All his hope was lying on a piece of paper, and the words that had been imprinted on it by a stranger. But it was hope, and he'd always been a sucker for optimism.
The words spoke to him, though. They were imprinted in is brain forevermore. Because they were all he had left. Realistically, no one cared if he lived or died. He was just one of those people who faded into the background.
Luckily he found the letter, which, coincidently, had a whole section on that particular topic. Adrien silently thanked whoever wrote those words for the twenty-eighth time in the past hour.
So if you're in my position too, know this: don't give up.
Somehow, this stranger had made him feel more worthwhile and... whole than anyone in his entire life.
Yet really, if you think about it, what are the meaning of words? Are they there to comfort you?
He gulped.
He finally knew what words meant to him. They gave him hope when they were placed in the right order. They made him despair if they weren't. It just depended on what angle you were looking from.
He had to see the words that other people had spoken from their point of view. His Father's words had now been deciphered by Adrien, and he now realised his father's reasoning.
He was still pissed as hell that his father was being such a son of a bitch (Though, in reality, his grandfather wasn't all too bad...). Yet now that he knew Gabriel's logic, now that the young man understood that his father was not yet at his best, per say, or that he hadn't stopped grieving over Adrien's mother. Neither was Adrien.
He understood that his father was hurt. That his mind sometimes drifted.
And he accepted it.
He pushed the intercom.
"Hello?" Nathalie's voice echoed through his ears.
The young model took a long breath. "Hey, Nathalie."
