Adrien sighed and tapped his pencil on his temple. His desk light remained on even at the late hour. A blank diary laid open on the surface.
Earlier that day he had bought it because it felt like a good idea at the time. He just didn't know what to write now. It was like his words were trapped. Adrien bit his lip until he could taste the coppery taste that he was so familiar with at that point.
He wasn't sure what to write. He put down his pencil. Closed the blank book. Turned off his light and sat in the darkness.
He felt completely surrounded but utterly isolated.
Those feelings kept him breathing. They were all that he had. It was so dark that Adrien wasn't sure if his eyes were opened or closed. He didn't care either way.
He reached out and felt for his lamp. When his fingertips brushed the cool metal he sighed. Adrien turned it on. The bright light burned his eyes yet he didn't shield them. He welcomed the slight burn and sting.
He reached for Marinette's diary. The object was becoming a constant comfort. He always seemed to lose himself in her words.
Dear Ladybug,
What's happening to me? What have I become?
I'm no longer myself. I am myself. Who am I?
When did I lose myself in the treatments and medicines and tests? Where am I? How can I find something that's lost and found at the same time?
I'm lost. I'm found. I'm nowhere but everywhere. I'm tragedy and disaster. I'm a wilting flower. I'm dying
What am I fighting for? There's no one who can help me.
Why am I still living?
Always,
Marinette.
Adrien's hands shook as he held onto the page. He didn't think she would ever think that way. He thought only he thought that way. Tears threaten to spill and he had to blink them back. It was no use. Something inside him broke at her words.
Adrien gripped her diary and cried. He cried for the future she had lost and cried for the one he was thinking about abandoning.