((Sorry about the typos this was typed pretty late at night.)) Maybe he was being stupid? Maybe it really mattered? It was unlike Marinette to leave a note like this, scrap paper, yet handwriting so neat and cursive so clean it was hard to make out this was from his old classmate at all. He remembered Marinette’s handwriting, yes she did often use cursive. Yet it was never so clean, the letters each held their own space on this letter. Hers were mangled together and rushed, barely visible unless the pattern was caught. Adrien could always tell, even if he was embarrassed to deny the notes the first time he was away. Her eyes, she seemed like she was gonna cry as she shakily handed him the set of papers. These letters, so smooth and precise. Spaced together, laced together, in a fashion that was almost too gentle and welcoming. They didn't feel right, they could not be from such hands. Yet they had to be! Who else could write like this? Every little accent on the paper echoed her, only she knew these quirks. These were her quirks, her signatures, even after all these years. He knew Marinette’s penmanship when he saw it. Then why was he shaking, why was he so cold, why was he constantly begging his legs to move. To move back to his car, and away, anywhere but her. If it really is her then he-but if it isn't. He took a deep breath, swallowing his fear. It had to be her, he could sense it. Only she would leave a note like this, only she would know how. Then why here? And why now? It doesn't make any sense! He clenched his fists.The paper crushing in his right palm. Adrien looked toward the place in front of him, an alley. Trash bins on the side, some garbage hanging loosely on the ground surrouding them. A thick winter breeze invaded the alley and forced its way through.His hands clenching the rim of his coat, hair flying aimlessely in the wind. Something dug into him, worry that flooded his entire chest. He felt heavy, a cold rush of wind slapping him. This must be a trap… His hands trembled as they clenched his chest, a tight grasp that only tightened as wind shot at him. This had to be a trap! A school friend out of nowhere wants to see him after years! The minute he is back in Franch, why else? Why a back alley! Why him? Why any reason someone would want to see him!? Why here? Why her of all people? Why is he so stupid to fall for it? He dares to call himself an Agreste, he just go caught by the easiest trick in the book. To think he almost believe she wanted to see him, he's such a sap. Now, he is probably gonna get kidnapped, or killed, or set for randsom, or beaten and left for dead...Who would take over Agreste industry, what would his father do, who would model! Who would...Who would… He froze, taking a deep breath, his hands trembling. No, he still had a chance! He can still escape! He was an Agreste! He was far to smart to fall for this. He twisted himself, the car wasn't to far. If he ran he could make it in seconds flat he just had too- ”Now, now kitty, where do you think your going? I'm over here silly.” A voice, smooth yet joyful, now rang behind him. It was si close. He flinched, his heart sinking into his chest, eyes wide. It was her, but it couldn't have been by any sort. It was nothing like her, alien to the tones he felt so familiar with. Yet so perfectly fitting. His eyes couldn't help but follow the voice, a small glance. A figure, feminine, with a spotted dress that danced in the wind. “M-marinette?” He questioned, voice shaking, small, half stuttered bewilderment. He could swore he heard a chuckled from her, he cringed. Refusing to face the strange figure. ”Sort of…” The woman half hummed, after some idle thought. “S-sorta?” Adrien barely lipped, the woman behind him muttered something. She seemed almost nervous. “Adrien, relax. I'm not here to hurt you.” She said, her voice seemed smaller now. More gentle. Adrien said nothing. His thoughts began to swarm him. The whole day flashing in his head, getting more surreal by the second. First he finally gets home, then gets sent on a day filled with modeling shoots and meeting, meets his school friend at a fabric store. Then again at a bakery! It was her family’s bakery, still… He finds a note outside from her, to meet at a back alley in the middle of the night! Follows it like a total idiot then mets what!? Some strange Marinette? Could he even call it that? What is she? What the hell does she want from him! The woman behind him noted this, his frozen posture, eyes dead staring at the group. Her expression weak, she took a deep breath. “Adrien?” His hand unclenched, the note drifting put of his hands, seconds later swept off by the overbearing winds. “Who are you.” He said, voice thin and blank. “I'm Mari-” “No!” He almost hissed, the woman flinching. “W-who are you?” She could hear it now, the panick in his voice. Shakingness overswept by a cold stern tone. “A-Adrien I-” She reached out her hand to him. “Answer me.” He recoiled, the woman’s hand dropping back to her side. “I-I'm Ladybug...Adrien I....” The woman glanced down, the faint blue in her eyes reflecting off the old street lamp in front of the two. It shadowed over them. “I'm...I'm not Marinette, but that doesn't mean I'm not like her! I, I care about you Adrien, I am just like her but...If I tried to explain it too you, you would think I'm crazy you, you just need to trust me now. Adrien, I'm here because...Because your in danger.” His voice rang silent, all words that could be said were trapped in the back of his thought. His stare went empty, wide, and full of fear. His mouth closed, arms barely moving. He turned ever so slowly, now facing the woman. He tried to gasp for a breath, but nothing came, he felt he could move. Couldn't breath, couldn't think. As the woman in front of his stood, he couldn't do anything but stare. Her face was gentle, expression laced in worry, she wear a kneelength dress, red with black spots, and heels. Her figure was merely identical to Marinette’s. But that wasn't nearly as unsettling as the fact that she was entirely transparent. Entire body fading off behind her. That when it all hit him. This woman wasn't Marinette, no. She wasn't even real.
romaincrisis
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
blakekathryn
gummygunk
jimmyeatworldofficial
