So, the thoughts aren't in italics because there are many.
As the days went by, soon from her mental list Bridgette crossed off the chocolates, the familiar places she might have gone with Felix, and those possible topics of conversation they might have talked about. She crossed them off, cancelled them, and yet it was hard to pretend she hadn't been making Valentine's Day plans. So she focused on what her and Allegra's plans would trigger: a fun, boy-free day.
They had barely talked about it, but the day was more or less set. They would just have to add a few movies to cover the afternoon Bridgette was supposed to spend with Felix, if he had accepted the proposal she would have made.
She still felt a little bad about it, but the jet-blue hadn't at any point been able to bring herself to show Felix the true seriousness with which he handled his feelings, that one she was hiding so she wouldn't give him all and break herself in the process.
However, her heart trembled even though she had forced herself to accept that Felix was in love with someone else, even though she had wordlessly wished him the best of luck on their date... almost ten days after learning of the blond's too strange feelings.
And she had gotten rid of her chocolates: she had chased away the plans from her friendship-filled mind, and yet one of the irreplaceable organs in her body had to ache and shrink as if it were a worn-out punching bag or as if it were cradled between two hands that squeezed and squeezed and squeezed without stopping.
Today was the fourteenth of February, so that dull ache in Bridgette's chest had to be ignored amid the sharp drafts of air that shook her jet-black hair and pulled her in the opposite direction she was headed, accompanied by her friend with the thick, tousled hair who was grabbing her attention as if telling her to grab the camera her parents had given her and snap pictures as if it was about breathing.
Sketching a smile into her thoughts, Allegra was so photogenic. And placing her hands in her breeze-guided hair, her fringes covering her genuine eyes and still being able to look beyond them as Bridgette never could... Then there was the right whistle, the right notes made at just the right, indelible moments that would never be heard in photographs.
Click. Click. ~ One more and play quietly you may. ~
Click. ~ Oh, the Eiffel Tower imposing and majestic over your body, your head that is rising, your arms that are wrapping around your lilac shirt and ruffling its sleeves, your dark, loose pants that are sounding like the mixture of some ship's sails and crumpled paper. Never one. ~
~ What I look at is your back. There's no sun but I see it in the golden hair between your yellow strands. I surround you and still see it in the gleam of your eyes as you play the flute, focused on simply something foreign, beyond my comprehension. ~
Click. Click. Click. ~ It's worth every one even if I miss the most unusual and unmissable event in life if with that in the future I can still remember my best friend with the same passion with which I take every picture of her even when she doesn't know it. ~
Click. Click. ~ You know me, you suspect it. You just need to ask. ~
So what were they going to do now? What were they going to do after "posing for pictures" and having their pictures taken, after playing music and listening to music and after running away and chasing each other as an artist would chase her muse?
Finally they put aside that part of themselves: all the cameras, all the musical instruments were left scattered on one of the park benches. Because they bought ice cream, walked, pointed out random situations, ate, chatted about how there was no need to treat this day as a special one while two weeks earlier they had been dreaming up a now-impossible date. They laughed.
They went back for their things, but Bridgette's camera was missing, the one they searched every corner of the park, asking until they gave up. Allegra went to throw the ice cream cones and suddenly Ladybug asked instead of the girls, because no one could lie to the adored heroine.
Oh, yes: recovered photos.
As they had planned, the best friends would go to the movies before heading home.
"See you tomorrow?" If it were up to Bridgette, she would hang out with Allegra in an eternal instant of one of her walks, always without a goodbye and never needing photographs or cell phones to keep seeing her and remembering her whenever she wanted to. She was her first friend, she was—
If she didn't have to go on patrol with Cat noir, the jet-blue would make a video call to the braided-haired girl as soon as she got home and both of them would keep talking until the battery told them they couldn't talk anymore.
"Yes," the blonde replied, "don't forget about your part of the literature homework"
"I'm going to spend all night finishing it, Alle... Don't listen to me!" Bridgette added as she saw a tightening of Allegra's eyebrows, and her lips already tightened and protruding as if she was already offended.
"I hope so" She frowned, "You're not the only one who gets the worst note"
"I've already apologized to Felix for that" She defended herself, a slight blush on her cheeks.
"And that's why he won't let you be his partner anymore."
"See you tomorrow, then" she replied nervously, telling with her expressions the embarrassment she felt.
"Yes" With a small sigh, Allegra let it go and gave her a brief hug before leaving.
It was then that Bridgette adopted a serious countenance. She began to search with her eyes for a specific place, and nodded to herself, turned towards it and pronounced the magic phrase that preceded a great transformation. Not a metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly without the cocoon representing it and helping to make it possible, as the jet girl was surrounded by a red trail that elongated her hair and showed her very long ribbons as well as making her a tight red suit.
And it not only hardened her grimaces, but it seemed to sharpen even her body and write "beware" on it.
Calculating eyes scrutinised the area as long as it took her to climb up the walls of the selected alley and perch on the roof. Ladybug searched with her developed gaze for Allegra, found her, gave another slight nod and with an arm over her head, for the Parisians the heroine was gone.