Usually quite brief, a prelude is a musical composition that is played before a larger musical piece and is often shorter than the movements that follow it.
That was all he remembered.
Body tense and wracked with tremendous palpitations, the young teenager's eyes resembled the size of a frisbee, present with an intense luminesce of horror-filled viridescence. The color of his shimmering green eyes fought against the scarlet river underneath his shoes like the colors of Christmas.
Only, this was no joyous event such as the holidays.
A rush of tingles and arctic chills surged through his trembling body. Tears brimmed along his eyelids, scalding his eyes and blurring his vision to the pair of corpses sprawled out on the floor一one a gray-haired man with glasses and the other a golden-haired woman. The familiar faces of the ones who raised him.
After another long day at work, a blond boy in his early twenties stepped outside the doorway of a local coffee shop. The heavy door closed behind him with an airy thump, muted by the solemn violin melody playing from his earbuds. With the orange sunset tinting the sky, Adrien stuffed his chilly hands inside his pockets. His head turned to the flower shop just next door, where an ombre-haired woman entered the building with a short bluenette by her side一the artist whose music he was listening to right now.
The fresh, nature-like smell of flowers whiffed past her as Marinette stepped through the door. Her eyes sparked at the bright, polychromatic display of various different flowers all around her. Alya stood behind her, arms crossing over her chest as she watched her overexcited friend bounce around the shop.
"Why are we here again?" Alya asked.
"I just wanted to get a flower for my room," Marinette responded, eyeing a row of bright pink flowers, "Félix usually destroys the ones I get from fans, so一"
Marinette shot her eyes to Alya, surprised that her one raised eyebrow had not popped right out of her head. A small giggle came from Marinette's lips as she lightly patted her best friend on the shoulder.
"Don't worry too much about it, Alya," Marinette said, "He doesn't like flowers, but that's not gonna stop me from buying some for myself."
"No, Marinette. He一"
Marinette blinked a single time, tilting her head to the side. A loud, raspy groan escaped Alya's lips like a rumbling avalanche.
"Forget it," Alya mumbled.
A muted ding vibrated from the inside of Marinette's purse. The young woman drew her phone out of her bag. A rather panicked gasp entered her mouth as her eyes landed on the small screen.
"Sorry, I gotta go," Marinette hurried, "Félix is asking where I am and I'm almost late for our rehearsal. I'll see you tomorrow, bye!"
Alya opened her mouth to speak, but Marinette had already dashed off. As the bluenette neared the doorway, her shoulder bumped into another shoulder. With a small yelp, the short woman stumbled over her feet and fell forward. A pair of arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back up before she could face plant into the floor. Her back came into contact with something soft and cushion-like, rising and falling against her body. She turned her neck to look over her shoulder, where her line of sight fell upon a pair of eyes that were as green as a flower stem.
The arms unraveled around her, allowing her to fully face the tall, blond figure who had a face much like her boyfriend. Only, this face was, in a way, less intimidating.
"I'm sorry!" Marinette apologized, dipping her head slightly.
Before Adrien could say a single syllable, the bluenette turned on her heels. He watched as she continued out the doorway, sprinting into the distance until she disappeared from his sight.
A bouquet of multicolored flowers dropped onto the damp green grass. Though, in his eyes, the bouquet was nothing but gray petals with a few spots of red unevenly spread out here and there. Ever since that day, he lost his ability to see colors.
To him, these "colors" came out rather dark and gloomy. Like the flowers were a photograph taken on an old black and white camera that had dark-colored ink spilled all over its lens.
Adrien kneeled in front of the pair of gravestones. He placed his palm on the grass and stared blankly at the letters embedded into the rocks. The letters which spelled out his last name.
"Today marks ten years since I lost you two," Adrien muttered, "It still feels like it was yesterday."
His fingers closed in around the thin grass blades underneath him. A soft ripping sound rang through the air as he tugged the blades out of their soil.
"I just had another boring day at work as per use," Adrien continued, "My girlfriend broke up with me last week, but it's fine. Life sucks anyways, it is what it is."
Adrien turned his head upwards, watching the light gray clouds roll by against the dusky tangerine hue of the sunset. He inhaled a long breath through his nose, then exhaled it into a long sigh through his mouth.
"Sometimes I just want to disappear," Adrien sighed, "Even if I were gone, it's not like anyone would notice or even care."
His eyebrows lifted the second those words left his lips. His eyes darted back to the gravestones in front of him as his fingers clenched into shaky fists against the rough grass. He tilted his head down, allowing his golden bangs to cover his eyes like a thick curtain.
"If that's the case, then..."
His fingers released the grass blades that had been clenched between them. Keeping his head down, Adrien rose to his feet. His line of sight traveled from the flower bouquet to the two gravestones as his hands tucked themselves into his pockets yet again.
"...I'll see you both again soon."
YOU ARE READING
"You should have seen the way he looked at you during your performance." Violin virtuoso Marinette Dupain-Cheng is left having to find a new accompanist after breaking up with her boyfriend, Félix, who also happened to be her old accompanist. One da...