Dabble in Drabbles 9: Paint Me A Picture
Anyhoo, here ya go! A [fluff] fanfic with our tomato son!
Summary: Nathanael and love and color.
If he was to describe her, she would be red.
Everyone says that Marinette was pink because that was her favorite color, but to him she was red.
The color of passion. Of warmth and home. Of desire and blood. Of love and of hate. The first of the trinity of primary colors.
She was a ladybug red.
Besides, pink was just a red that didn't try hard enough.
He watches her at the back of the class. She does not see him gazing at her. Tracing her outline, the curve of her shoulders, the exposed part of her neck.
She does not see him draw her. Paint her. Illustrate her.
She does not see him fall in love with her.
It is hidden inside his studio. Away from prying eyes.
But when the clock strikes midnight and the whole house is asleep, he visits her.
He opens the door, places the canvas on the easel, and gazes at her.
The portrait of Marinette.
It glows and shimmers in the moonlight.
Each stroke of the brush is laced with longing. Each shade is colored with the desire to be nearer to her. The details in her eyes are painted with love.
He hesitates to touch the canvas, fearing it will come to life.
Turning to the table, he takes a brush and paints her.
He sees her looking at Adrien.
Of course.
Adrien is the sun and Nathanael the shadow.
He knows.
She looks at Adrien like how he looks at her.
(He tries to destroy her.)
(But his brush stops a centimeter away from her face.)
(He cannot.)
(She has drawn him in her claws so deep, if he destroys her, he destroys himself.)
Chloe.
She is a yellow he does not like. A pale, drab yellow.
His feelings bubble inside and his vision turns into a violent violet.
The world is washed out. He is looking out through an obscure mask.
He speaks of things to Marinette. Things he never dared to say to her.
But this is not him.
This is Le Dessinateur.
Everything moves like a fastforward in a movie.
He wakes up, Ladybug in front of him.
She stands there in red.
And in his heart, Marinette fades.
He smiles at her.
This time, he touches her.
It's cool under his fingertips. His feelings are locked in the dried colors.
He signs his name.
He tucks Marinette away.
Picking up a white canvas, he puts it on the easel.
She is red.
But this time, it is not Marinette.
This time, it is Ladybug.
Tomatoes are good for your health. Make sure to eat a considerable amount of tomatoes everyday!
Except Nathanael. He is our son. We cannot eat him. We would be cannibals.