Sequel to IRONY

8

She hadn't carried her earings with her, and he grabbed at the opportunity to explore her little abode without having to worry about being punched. He made his way to the stairs to her room, still dragging her along with him despite her desperate struggling and screaming. He loved the feel of her hand in his and he never wanted to let go.

Never.

The aura in her room felt a tad bit different.

He felt the magical energy shift as soon as he entered the white room. It had a different feel of aura, scent that made him feel light-hearted and lenient.

It angered him immediately.

Had she been sleeping with another man? She couldn't have. She wouldn't dare.

"What's wrong with your room?" he demanded all of a sudden, eyes flashing menacingly at her. "Who else is sleeping here?"

She stared back in alarm, knowing all too well what that look on his face meant.

Marinette could see right through him now, probably because of the bond they shared. The bond allowed them to know what the other was feeling, and since he was a numb, heartless bastard most of the time, she could feel that too. It was a frightening, cold feeling, so unlike the warmth she was accustomed to.

"No—no one," she replied, barely audible. He gripped her hand harshly and forced her to look in his eyes, causing her to shudder.

"Tell the truth," he said coldly. "The atmosphere changed when we entered."

Her eyes widened and her lips trembled. She looked both ways, avoiding his eyes. She stubbornly tried to get away from him again but his hold stifled her futile attempts. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him once more.

She wouldn't dare lie to him. She knew it would be unwise.

"Rose!" she said. "She did something here a week ago! I'm the only one sleeping here, no one else!"

"That short mouse?" he asked while raising an eyebrow. "Alya's wife. Now why would she do that, love?"

"She-she said she was getting rid of the Ca-Caballusi Fairies." She placed her trembling hands on the one grabbing her chin and squeezed it lightly. "There is no one else."

Satisfied, he gave her a soft kiss on the lips, drinking in her delicious fear.

"See, Angel, that wasn't so hard," he said, pressing so close that their noses were touching.

He stared at her a little longer, admiring her delicate lips as she panted under his brutal scrutiny. She wasn't ugly like the other women he had been with...she was beautiful and gorgeous. He was mesmerized by her, her lovely cheeks and freckles, her riot of curls and dazzling bluebell eyes, like blue-berries: sweet, addicting and deliciously decadent.

She was perfect.

Marinette eyed him suspiciously as he entered her messy room. He first went to the bed and traced his fingers on the pink sheets. Then he went to the windows and checked the view. He stared at the different scrolls on her study and read a few titles on her bookshelf. Seeing him there made her feel uneasy.

She kept reminding herself that Alya had had her house warded; it was the only thing keeping her from running and screaming bloody murder right about now.

Bravery was scarce when she was with Damian Wayne.

"Why are you even here, anyway?" she said, never taking her eyes off him. "You could have just told me the bad news tomorrow, at work."

He opened her closet, frowned, and then opened the door of her bathroom and disappeared inside.

"I wanted to see you."

Marinette shifted uncomfortably.

"Besides, I've never seen your flat before," she heard him say. "Never knew it was so... interesting."

He exited the bathroom with a devilishly handsome smirk on his face and he towered over her again. "But it doesn't matter, really." He reached for a stray lock of her hair and brushed it off her face gently. "You'll be leaving this place soon enough."

She sent him the coldest glare she could muster but he wasn't fazed the least bit.

"No, I won't."

He smirked again. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Princess." And he was gone again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Dennis? Alright there?" Marinette asked, her voice laced with genuine concern for the brown haired boy who was currently sitting in front of her. They sat on the stools of the third level laboratory, discussing the sap of a Morning Glory flower, a particular ingredient that she needed for the Denovorum.

He had a dejected look on his face and he didn't have his excited, radiant aura that he usually carried about him. No, today he was quiet. He wasn't even remotely paying attention to the conversation.

Dennis jumped out of his thoughts and stared at her with wide eyes.

"Oh, Merlin! I'm sorry Healer Dupain Cheng! I got distrac—" his hand accidentally collided with a glass test tube, making it fall to the ground and shatter. "Oh Merlin, I'm sorry again!"

He knelt on the ground quickly and started picking up the broken pieces, forgetting his test-tube that was currently lying on the table.

Marinette frowned at him. "Dennis." She waved her hand and the test tube repaired itself and flew back to the rack.

Dennis scratched his head in embarrassment and grinned sheepishly at her.

"Tell me what's wrong," she said.

Marinette stared at him and waited for him to say something. She couldn't deny that she had a soft spot for the boy. She remembered the first time she had met Dennis at St. Marie's, when she had been volunteering as a healer. He had been a patient there and one day had wandered off to the room she'd been in and started talking to her.

Marinette knew he was really sick, of a nameless disease that had been passed down in history for quite some time now, a condition where a person of a certain disposition loses his ability to remember things.

.

But Marinette couldn't help but think that no matter how much hope he had for the cure of others, he had none for himself.

.

They said it would consume you.

A small ounce of memory every minute of every waking day...

No matter how much you try to fight it, to overpower it, it would do no good. Before you know it, you'd be dead, sucked dry.

.

"I'm going to die soon," he muttered quietly, catching Marinette completely off guard.

"Don't say that, Dennis," she said in a serious tone. "You know they're doing their best to help you."

"This isn't an ordinary disease, Marinette," he said calmly. "There is no cure."

"Wh-what?" Marinette said, outraged. He must be lying. "What? That's—I don't believe it! There must be something!"

Dennis shook his head and smiled, telling her to calm down. "I'm just scared of not having enough time."

She felt bile rise in her stomach. This boy was a ray of sunshine. He was always making her smile and happy. He was kind and caring.

He offered so much love to the world.

Was he really going to die so young?

xxxxxxx

I know the chapter is short🎃 Forgive me pls

Thank you for reading!! REVIEW!!!!!

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