listen // mlb fanfic - complete

(9) / çơŋʄŗơŋɬıŋɠ

Comment, vote, share etc. Hope you enjoy. - edited.

ADRIEN:

The next day was a school day, and Marinette seemed even more distracted than ever, making me hate myself all the more.

You're the reason she's worrying. You're the reason for everyone's sadness.

I tugged the sleeves to my hoodie, ashamed as I felt the shirt's material rub on my self-inflicted cuts.

"You okay, dude?" Nino asked me. "You've been pretty out of it lately."

Things are just getting worse, what do you expect? "Peachy."

Nino sighed and faced the teacher again. I followed his actions.

MARINETTE:

"I'm really worried about Chat, Tikki," I said to my little red kwami as I made sure all my school books were in my bag.

"It's fine, Marinette. Don't worry about it too much. Maybe his parents are getting a divorce? He did say Family Problems last time when you were Ladybug," she replied, trying to help but not really helping.

I sat down in my swivel chair and put my head in my hands. "I just wish I could help him. He's so cocky and self-filled at times that it's hard to think that it might just be all a front, or that he's hurting. I want him to trust me."

"He does, but just as Ladybug. C'mon, Marinette, before you're late to school again."

As she flew into my purse, I questioned: "Then why won't he open up to me as Ladybug?"

At the end of the school day, as we were walking home, Alya tried figuring out what was wrong. She knew me well enough to know something was on my mind.

Hell, today I hadn't even stuttered or given him a glance when Adrien greeted me.

"Girl, you can totally trust me. I won't tell. I promise. You just seem so down, Marinette! I hate seeing you like this," Alya told me, trying to get me to talk.

So Chat visited me yesterday night and was bursting with despair and he was avoiding the truth but I just want him to know that I'll listen but he seems so lost and confused and — oh great, now I'm ranting in my thoughts as well!

"Marinette? Girl!! Snap out of it!" Alya told me. I sighed.

"Sorry, Alya, it's just ... there's this one person," I began and she nodded to show she was listening. "They're hurting. Bad. But they don't show it. And yesterday, they came to me and they spoke to me. But they were avoiding the topic that was killing them. And then they just ran when I told them I'd listen. I know they're sad and I want to help but I don't know how."

Alya gave me long look. "Who is this person?"

I shook my head. "I won't tell you. Sorry, but I don't think they'll appreciate it."

She smiled at me. "Okay, well. I guess the only thing you can do, girl, is be there for them. Don't try to push them into telling you and just let them take their time. Other than that, there isn't really anything you can do."

"You're right, Alya. Thanks!" I said as we went our separate ways.

That night, when I met up with Chat for night patrol, he seemed really out of it: he didn't try to flirt once, made not one pun, and avoided eye contact.

"Chaton ..." I began as we swung around Paris, but he slipped on one of the roofs and fell on his back, causing me to immediately forget what I was about to say and go help him up.

Wincing, he ignored the hand I offered as he stood up, his face contorted with pain.

"Are you okay, Kitty?" I asked with worry.

He waved it off. "Fine. These suits are indestructible or something, they block out pain, I think. That's why we're never hurt, isn't it—wait, why don't we get hurt when we are like literally smashed into a brick wall?"

"It's probably some sort of magic, like the mask," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, but where does this magic come from?" He asked.

"How am I supposed to— ... Chat, you're changing the subject," I said in realization. He was good at getting me sidetracked.

He broke the first eye contact we had since the beginning of this night patrol. "I'm pitch purrfect, M'Lady," he said, taking my hand and kissing it but was pushed away by me.

"Now there's the old Chat I know. You can talk to me, though, okay? If you just need to vent out, I'll be the one to listen."

ADRIEN: (all these changing PoV's. Sowwy. *hands out cookies*)

"Now there's the old Chat I know. You can talk to me, though, okay? If you just need to vent out, I'll be the one to listen," she said and I let out the most forced smile possible (okay wtf, as I was editing it I realized it said 'I let out the darkest smile possible' kitty wtf.)

"Thank you, M'Lady, but unless you want to hear me rant about my fandoms, there's nothing to talk about," I replied in a cocky matter.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "You sure? Because—"

"Yes." My voice sounded constricted. "I'm sure."

She seemed a bit startled by my sudden change of mood but she let it go (a/n: Marinette no. That's elsa's job.).

"Okay then. I guess the less talking, the faster we can get this patrol over with and the more time I get to spend fangirling over my crush."

Her sentence crushed me (a/n: i know this isn't the time to make puns but i had to.).

"Y-you're crush?"

Her crush? Her crush? She likes someone?!She's in love?

"Yeah. Why?"

My throat began to burn in that same mocking way it always did when the tears were about to fall.

Not now, not here.

You didn't seriously expect that she'd return a street alley cat's feelings, did you?

No, I didn't. So why did it hurt so much? Why did she make my heart strike as soon as I see her? Why does she do this me? She doesn't like me in that way, so neither should I.

"No reason. I suppose, then, that it's best we finish this quick." Because I don't think I can spend another second in this hellhole of rejection.

Someone please save me from this nightmare you call Life.

I cried myself to sleep, my whole body in pain from the yet-to-heal whips of Father and the knowledge of Ladybug's crush.

Plagg tried to get my mind off of it, joking around and occasionally giving me an actual smile, but I ignored him until he fell asleep.

You didn't think that she actually returned your feelings! The voices in my head mocked me.

I was shaking with sadness, and with those last thoughts of despair and my self-inflicted cuts on my arms itching, I fell into a fitful sleep.