Marinette bent over the counter of her family's bakery, fanning herself with a handkerchief of silk. Even inside, the heat from the sandy desert village had gotten in, leaving the foreign woman sweating bullets. The only good thing about the sufferable heat was the amount of villagers and travellers stopping in to purchase a pastry or cake.
Even if that was a benefit, it didn't help Marinette's case of trying to stay somewhat clean. Her sleeves always stuck to her sweaty armpits. And without sleeves, she would just be exposing everyone to her body odor, despite the numerous perfumes and floral soaps she cleanses with.
"Marinette! Stop slacking and start helping me load up these loaves of bread into the cart," Sabine, a Chinese-French woman, snapped her fingers right next to Marinette's ear, startling the poor girl. Letting out a small squeak, Marinette drooped back, standing up straight.
"Yes, maman," Marinette slid the 'ring bell for service' card into her vacant clerk spot, walking through a doorway leading to the ovens. Her towering father, also a foreigner, was hard at work pushing baked goods into every oven available.
Cakes, cupcakes, loaves of bread, buns, rolls, biscuits. Baklava, a pastry made of layers upon layers of filo and assorted nuts drizzled in either chocolate or honey, were in the midst of being prepared atop of one table. It was one of the newest additions to their usual selection; a dessert from this country.
"Marinette. Stop daydreaming and start working! I do hope the heat hasn't gotten to you. The store's been much more busy lately and I need you to start focusing! Chop, chop!" Sabine smacked both of her flour-covered hands against Marinette's cheeks.
"GYAH! O-of course," Marinette derpily smiled, rubbing her cheeks as she followed her mother out the backdoor. Outside in the private pavilion was the wooden cart used to deliver their products to customers. Sitting on a wheeled rack beside it, were the many loaves of bread her maman mentioned.
"I'm guessing I'm going to have to make a delivery today?"
Sabine nodded, hauling two stacks of bread onto it.
"Where to?" Marinette asked. She also grabbed some bread, loading it. "The spice merchants' quarters? That one family with seven kids?"
"It should be...." Sabine dug through the pocket of her apron, pulling out the order. "The usual order to the spice quarters. Travelling merchants. They ought to get hungry, walking around and doing... who knows what to sell their products."
Marinette snorted, placing the last of the loaves on, dusting off her hands.
"I can take this load today," she stretched her arms up to the cloudless blue sky. "Just give me some time to prepare." Sabine responded with a smile and pat to the back as she headed back into the kitchen to prepare the baklava.
Once the bluenette was out of sight, Marinette let out an exhausted huff. She was not in any mood to work, nor deliver anything today. To be honest, she was just exhausted of the 'same old, same old,' schedule her parents followed each and every. single. day. Nothing interesting, nothing worth... 'seeking.'
Marinette loved her parents and all, but all this 'bake, no break' stuff was definitely getting to her. What fun was watching dough rise in a clay oven? It was like watching paint dry, but with less paint and more flour in your eyes.
"Ugh..." Marinette groaned. She knew she couldn't chicken out of the job without her mother wanting a long and valid answer for why her daughter was so lazy. Nonetheless, Marinette did as she was told, quickly running upstairs to change out of her smelly blouse and skirt combo.
To freshen up, Marinette quickly rubbed her Arabian rose oil onto her arms to mask whatever unpleasant scent was coming from her. Next, she pulled on a different linen blouse and a tight pair of pants. Quickly pulling on her sandals (Arabic: madas sharqi), she wrapped her indigo tresses with a cloth buncap before tying the strings to her conical hat (Asian rice hat) around her chin.
"I'll be back soon, Maman!" Marinette called. She last minutely grabbed her apron, tying it over her right hip. As she passed by, Sabine placed the order note and an extra bag of coins for emergencies into the pocket. Marinette gave it a satisfied pat, exiting the bakery.
"And... here's my daily workout."
Marinette hoisted the two handles of the cart, taking one last peek behind her to make sure everything was fully strapped in. And off she went. Running along the village, despite how draining it was for Marinette, never got old. Young and old walked amongst it. Shopkeepers sold fruit, fresh meat, spices and gorgeous handmade tops made with the finest arabian silks.
As Marinette moved further through the village, there was the sudden increase of foot traffic, she noticed. More people gathered, making it hard for Marinette and her large cart to get past. Farmers trying to sell their cattle shoved past. Children and parents crowded. Eesh.
'Gods, this is going to take me the rest of the day,' she grit her teeth.
Each time she was able to move forward, she was always stopped, along with all the others with carts or cattle. She was sweating through her blouse for sure. The heat and humidity was overpowering. Her throat was parched, for sure.
Rubbing her sore throat, Marinette moved the cart further. By now, she could hear voices from the front, which could probably explain the slow foot traffic.
"-THERE WAS A THIEF! SHE STOLE A WHOLE GRAPEFRUIT FROM MY STAND! AND SOME APPLES!" a heavily bearded shopkeeper hysterically screamed. "THE BANDIT WAS WEARING THIS... THIS SHAWL THE COLOR OF THE PRINCESS' EYES!"
'Thief?!' Marinette thought.
"THERE SHE IS!" another voice, a feminine one, called from behind her. Sure enough, shoving through the crowd was the suspected thief, emerald green shawl flickering in the gust of their running. A hood and scarf covered their face. And...
"HEY!" Marinette shouted. The thief had taken off with two whole loaves of bread. Marinette let the cart drop, sprinting in the direction of the criminal. From behind, armed guards tried to push past bystanding civilians. Marinette dove under the legs of a tall man, continuing to chase after the thief, who showed no sign of stopping.
They eyed a lone laundry line hanging from one's balcony, using it to climb up and onto the roof.
"Are you kidding me?!" the thief peered over the top, tossing an apple up and down to taunt her.
Marinette glared at them, leaping onto the rope. 'C'mon shrimpy muscles! Be useful for once!'
Quickly climbing up, Marinette just barely had enough energy to pull her body onto the roof.
"Ugh, I seriously need to- DAMN IT!"
At least four rooftops ahead, the thief was already prepared to leap to another.
"WAIT! STOP, THIEF!" Marinette was just trying to get herself killed. In a split second, her body had moved on its own, leaping off the building. Another second later, and she was laying atop a clay tiled roof trying to calm herself. Out of the corner of her eye, the thief had stopped to study Marinette.
They had let down their hood, revealing long, wavy curls in a deep shade of velvet black. They still kept their mask on, but based on what Marinette could see from her spot, the bandit had a pair of voluptuous breasts covered with a silk dress and shawl, confirming that they were, in fact, a woman.
Marinette watched as they dove off the building into the alleyway next to them.
Marinette instantly got up, adjusting her hat as she did. She peered over the edge, expecting to find the thief revealing herself to eat the stolen produce. Instead, Marinette was met with shock. The thief had knelt down before two little kids, both barely dressed in rags, and handed them the grapefruit, loaves of bread and an apple, each.
Oh. So it was for the kids.
Marinette figured it was probably best to just head back to the cart and hope that no one else had stolen anything.
"I see you've followed me this far," a sultry voice spoke.
The bluenette froze. Slowly turning, Marinette raised her fists in case the bandit was to attack her. Eyeing the raised fist, the thief simply laughed. A minor rouge traveled from Marinette's freckled cheeks to her ears. So... she couldn't quite tell if the thief was laughing at her lack of intimidation or if their laugh was doing things to Marinette without her consent.
"Y-you needed to pay for those. You have expensive looking clothing, so I bet you have enough money to pay for the products," ignoring her terrible stutter, Marinette's tone turned stern and reprimanding.
"Hmm... well, then. It's a shame I didn't bring any money with me. I must have left it in my palace made of gold, in the room filled with my diamond-encrusted llamas with eyes made of solid emerald and silver," she sarcastically remarked. Marinette grit her teeth.
"Even so, why did you come to the market anyway, if you didn't?"
"Even so, why did you confront me anyway, despite watching me give the fruits and bread to the children?" she repeated. "Lots of brawn, not a lot of brain. Well, actually, scratch that. Not a lot of brawn, not a lot of brain either."
Marinette's face grew redder every second from embarrassment.
"That doesn't explain why you decided to steal!"
"Parentless children are starving. I'm simply feeding them, since no one else will."
"I'm not stopping you from doing that. But you need to pay."
The bandit let out a small laugh.
"Fine. Tell me... Marinette..." she angled Marinette's chin up. "How's this for payment?"
"H-how do you-" the mysterious stranger swiftly pulled down her mask.
Marinette's lips met the stranger's. It seemed like a bundle of fireworks - the type her mother and aunt used for Chinese New Year celebrations - had ignited all at once in her body, exploding and popping.
The stranger, woman, thief - had this lovely scent radiating from her olive skin. A whole of classics wafted into Marinette's nose - this gorgeous fair-skinned woman gave off a floral scent - not too strong, not too light either. Like a jasmine and tuberose blend, giving off a nightly fragrance.
And the kiss, too... Marinette was left gaping with a visible fluster. The stranger simply chuckled, pulling her mask back up.
"No refunds. You're a good kisser," the woman had pulled her hood back up, running off to another rooftop. Another three and she was gone; ducked into an alley.
Sitting there, confused, dazed, was Marinette.
Did she- did they just... kiss her?
Marinette brought a finger to her lips. A rosy gloss was smudged onto her fingers. Faint sparkles shimmered under the sunlight. She rubbed her index to her thumb, watching as the lip cosmetic transferred. 'Lip gloss...'
----
It was nearly nightfall by the time Marinette had returned back home with the cart, perfectly sunburnt and out of breath. Sabine had been anxiously pacing around the front of the closed shop, wooden bread paddle tapping against her leg as she prepared to beat some sense into her daughter.
That is, until she saw the state her daughter was in.
Marinette's shoulder-length hair of indigo had been freed from its bun cap - which was also gone. The bluenette held her conical hat in one hand, dragging the empty cart in the other. Soot and mud covered Marinette's ankles and feet, going all the way up to her knees. Her blouse was still moist with sweat.
"Marinette!" Sabine tossed the paddle down, rushing to grasp Marinette.
"I'm fine, maman. Just tired... and I really need some water."
"I know, look at you! All red and... ugh! Explain later! Right now you need a bath! You smell like your father's shirts after a long day near the ovens! Hup hup! I'll take care of the cart! And make sure you eat!"
Marinette let out a hoarse laugh, limping into the house to find her dad already preparing a stew for dinner.
"Hey, pa. Dinner smells wonderful," she took a minute to stand on the one foot that didn't have a blister forming, to remove her sandals, one at a time. Bending down was painful. Her torso was aching from her impact with the side of a building on her way back to the cart after... that.
Marinette didn't hesitate to run (tumble) to the bathroom, where a tub of cold water was already waiting for her. She peeled her nasty clothing off, practically cannonballing into the bathtub. The Chinese-French girl dipped her entire head under the water, feeling the cool water against her scalp.
Maneuvering around, she eventually found herself in a comfortable position, with her back against the tub, sore feet propped up.
'Ah... I'm so gay.' she thought as she reached for her soap. 'What even was that? 'How's this for payment?' And then kiss me? A stranger? I mean, I wasn't aware she was into that. Well, then again, she was a stranger. A really pretty one, but still... that was so random.'
Suds covered her body. The sweet smell of apple blossom soap filled Marinette's lungs, masking whatever musk she picked up during her delivery fiasco.
'She wore a gloss on her lips... rosy colored. And her eyes...'
The shopkeeper she stole from had claimed she wore a shawl the color of the princess' eyes. The princess... now that Marinette thought about, the colors did seem... similar. Not that she knew of the princess personally. And it's not that she ever will.
Based on what her neighbor told her, the sultan, Ra's Al Ghul, prevented his granddaughter, Princess Dahlia, from ever leaving castle walls due to an incident with a king from another land and Dahlia's mother, Princess Talia. The affair had left Princess Tahlia pregnant with one of Ra's Al Ghul's worst enemies. Nonetheless, to prevent the next heir to the throne from being impregnated by someone other than her to-be arranged husband, she was forbidden from leaving the castle under any circumstances.
Tapestries of her, however, did exist, as did paintings.
They were often found in most stands, hanging on the side as a worship for the country's next ruler. Marinette had to admit, she was beautiful. Olive skin, wavy black hair, emerald eyes and a buxom complexion that just gushed feministic vibes.
Looking back at the kiss, Marinette really hadn't been able to catch whatever color the thief 's eyes were.
She had them closed, allowing her long lashes to tickle Marinette's skin.
The kiss lasted for at least five seconds. Enough time to completely melt Marinette's inner being, freeze the meltedness over and rebuild everything by the time this enticing woman had done with one simple kiss.
'Ohh... now I really want to know who they are. Wavy hair... faint scent of coconut oil... floral scent... olive skin...' she listed all the details she noticed about the masked bandit as she dried herself with a towel, snatching a clean pair of undergarments from the clothing stack her mother had placed on the counter.
----
Marinette laid on her bed, staring up at the cracks in her ceiling.
Why was it that a kiss by a total stranger was the only thing she could think of?! She's been kissed multiple times by multiple genders! Her first kiss with Adrien, how could she forget that? They both were super awkward! And it was just a kiss to his cheek! Then there was Kagami! Kagami, her first kiss with someone of the opposite gender. Her homosexual awakening!
Why was a simple touch of their lips all her mind could muster up?
Was it because she had the wind knocked out of her when she slammed into the corner of a house's roof? Was all this just karma for nearly puncturing her intestines? If so, why?!
"Ugh..." Marinette groaned, pulling her blanket off.
"I see you aren't able to sleep. Thinking about our little kiss?"
Marinette shot up, grabbing the nearest thing - a hairbrush, to defend herself with.
"Relax. It's just me. The thief you shamelessly chased after?"
"You- are you stalking me?!"
"I wouldn't use the word, 'stalking.' Rather, it was easy finding you. Everyone knows of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the daughter of the village's best bakers? I have to admit, you really don't have any brains. Nor brawn," her eyes wandered to Marinette's thin 'stick' figure.
"Yeah, I'm flat as a board, skinny as a stick, I know. What the hell are you even doing here, you creep?"
"Well, you required I paid for the bread I stole earlier..." she took a step forward. Marinette took a step back. Marinette's hands shakily clutched the hairbrush. Her instincts weren't telling her whether or not she should drop the brush.
"I- if you're gonna pay with your body, I don't want it," Marinette hissed as the green-clad girl took another step towards her. "Just- step back and like, pay with coins. Money! Not your body! Please!"
"Who said I was paying with my body? I'm much more dignified than that. To think that I would spread my legs for a complete stranger... or anybody in general. Honestly," she dug through her dress pocket, pulling out a handful of coins. Gleaming, clean, shining, shimmering, splendid.
She reached out with a partially gloved hand, grabbing one of Marinette's.
The hairbrush fell out of her hands, landing on one of her toes.
"AH SHIT-" the hand that had recently taken her own was slapped against her mouth. From under the hood, the woman's neatly trimmed eyebrows slanted, eyes narrowing. Marinette gulped down the rest of her curses, slowly let out a breath of calm.
"You are just trying to wake up your parents."
"Well it's not my fault that you decided to sneak into my bedroom in the middle of fucking night," Marinette whisper-hissed back.
"I... had my reasons. Let's just say something like 'curfew' exists. If I'm found out, I'll be trapped at home forever until it's time for me to be wed to some random stranger."
"Your whole story sounds a lot like the princess'. Dahlia, or something?"
For a second, the woman faltered, but stood straight again.
"Many have told me that our stories are similar."
"Making it sound like you are, Princess Dahlia."
The woman simply scoffed. "I wish. I'm nothing but a general's granddaughter. He fears that his enemies might take me as revenge for all he had done to their own general during the last war that occured in these lands That is why I have a curfew. Despite his broody and intimidating appearance, he can be... interesting."
"He's overprotective of you then?"
"That's one way of putting it."
Marinette sighed, sitting back down on her bed.
"Well, since you were kind enough to give me some kind of backstory, I figured you could at least give me some sort of identification. Like your name, perhaps?"
"Dami."
"Dami?" Marinette almost laughed.
In the moonlight, Dami's eyes twinkled with amusement.
"Don't laugh, Mari."
Marinette gawked in fake disbelief.
A thump from downstairs alerted the two of them, meaning that either Sabine or Tom Dupain-Cheng had gotten out of bed.
Dami remembered the coins, shoveling them into Marinette's hands.
"Payment... and a tip."
Delicate, smooth hands cupped Marinette's cheeks, pulling her in once more... for another kiss.
"Find me again."
Dami took off again through Marinette's window. Seconds later, Sabine came upstairs in a hurry, bursting through Marinette's door. Marinette would have jumped in shock, had it not been for Sabine's intense stomps upstairs.
"I... I heard talking," Sabine said, scanning Marinette's room. Her eyes landed on the coins in Marinette's hand. "You- were you up counting your savings?"
"Yeah... sorry, was I too loud? I couldn't sleep so... I thought. Counting money would kind of help," Marinette fibbed, running a hand through her loose indigo tresses. "I didn't mean to alert nor wake you. Just got kind of... pfft. Sorry."
Sabine almost chuckled, walking over to conk Marinette on the head.
"Ah, you gave me a scare there. I thought someone had come in to... hurt you. Get some sleep, Marinette. Please. And if you don't - be quiet," Sabine spoke that last part with an icy tone that instantly chilled Marinette's innards.
"Right... " shuffling the coins once more in her hands, she placed the stack atop her nightstand, slumping back onto her bed. Resting for a minute on her side, she got back up again, sliding underneath her blanket.
"Dami..." she whispered. "Dami..." a little smile formed on her lips. Dami. The name seemed so... something about it was just so funny to her. "Dami, Dami, Dami."
(Total word count: 3470)
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