Wanderlust - A Felinette Fanfic

Now

Marinette paces the room back and forth, a cooing Camille in her arms. The baby is reaching for her nose, and Marinette chuckles dryly, letting her small hands reach for her nose. It almost feels suffocating. Being stuck in this house. Feeling stuck in this house when she knows damn well she has everything that would make for a happy life. A husband. A daughter that looks so much like her husband. A good house. Lots and lots of good memories. Which is why it feels so much harder. Wanting something different than this. She was so happy, so why isn't she anymore? The baby pulls her head lower and Marinette allows herself to be pulled, little baby gums trying to suck on her nose. "Ah ah," Marinette giggles, and it doesn't sound like her at all, "are you hungry?? Félix???? Can you prepare her a bottle, please???"

Her husband, who was finishing up a report for his work, hums in agreement, and stands up from his desk, stretching as he walks out of the room. He walks up to his wife and baby and smiles, kissing Marinette on the cheek and then Camille on the forehead. "Absolutely, pumpkin," he replies, walking to the kitchen. He fills the bottle, still looking up at Marinette. She's looked so empty lately. Not wanting to cuddle with him at night. Always finding a reason to get out of the house. He doesn't mind, he knew she had a life and he loved his daughter, but it worries him a bit. She's so distant. He misses her smile, a real smile that's not some facade she puts on. He knows her smile, and that sure as hell isn't.

She can feel the way Félix looks at her. Trying to break apart the walls she's built up over the past six months, barely four months in after having their daughter. She smiles emptily still, whispering coos to Camille, scrunching up her nose with every little giggle she wries out of the infant. She thanks Félix as he hands her the bottle, and feeding the baby the milk. She looks up to Félix. "She's really hungry," she says, accompanied by a shallow laugh, one hand stroking Camille's steadily growing hair, golden and silky.

He hums in agreement, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her, resting his face on her shoulder. He presses soft kisses down her shoulder and rubs her arms. "You're such an amazing mother," he whispers. He's missed her. It seems stupid, missing someone that lives with you, but she's been not herself. It hurts sometimes.

She sighs, but it isn't anything sensual or hot, or anything satisfied. It speaks of exhaustion, and maybe she is tired. Maybe she's been tired all this time. "You're an amazing father, too," she quips, caressing the baby's cheek as her eyes flutter shut, seemingly sleepy. She laughs. "Good strong genes does that, see? I can literally see you in her."

He notices the way she became almost immune to his touches. He frowns, but shrugs it off, nodding. "I'm sure the next one will have blue hair," he chuckles softly, massaging her shoulders. He just wants to make her feel something again.

"Another one?" She asks, almost bewildered. She catches it before the silence and her bewilderment set too long, and she laughs, shaking her head. "It's gonna be a real nice party in here. What are we gonna name it? Do you want a boy or a girl?"

He looks at her weirdly at first, sighing in relief when she laughed. She has a beautiful laugh. He chuckles, shrugging. "Not anytime soon, I don't want to stress you out. But when we do, I don't mind as long as they're healthy. And they have your eyes," he smiles, nuzzling his face to her neck. "Maybe Félix Jr. for a boy," he teases. "You pick the girl name."

Marinette closes her eyes, deflating in relief as he hasn't seem to have caught on her little misstep, and her free hand rubs his nape briefly. "Imagine Félix Jr. just looks so much like me," she chuckles, looking down to Camille as she notices her rhythmic breathing. She's fallen asleep.  "But if it's a girl... I would love to name her after your father, maybe. Claudette. Claudia. A family of Félixes in so many ways than one." Maybe that would remind her of better times, she thinks, but she doesn't say that out loud.