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The aftermath of the battle with Strike Back had really taken a toll on Marinette. Sure, she was already anxious all of the time, but now she was more jumpy than ever. She refused to even think about the miracle box, let alone take it out and face the fact that she failed . She couldn’t look Adrien in the eyes without thinking about him , and the last straw was that after Luka saw her so upset, he couldn’t take it anymore and told her everything.
He told her that he knew her identity and Chat Noir’s. She’d panicked for hours before realizing that if he had known for this long and Bunnyx hadn’t come, it would all be fine. Just fine. Completely fine. Right.
But holy shit , Luka knew her identity. He knew her identity and he knew Chat Noir’s identity so he had so much information in his hands that even she didn’t have but if he was akumatized then he would come straight for her and Chat Noir’s civilian identities and they would be stuck and unable to transform and they would lose their miraculouses and Monarch would take advantage of them andwhiteandblueandwaterandwhiteandRINGRINGRINGRING -
She finally realized that her phone was ringing. Nobody was calling her. It was an akuma alert. She quickly attempted to snap herself out of her panic. It failed, but she transformed and ran to the scene of the chaos anyway.
This akuma attack was the reason she was currently crying in Luka’s arms.
The akuma itself wasn’t the problem. It was just Mr Pigeon, to her relief. At least it wasn’t a difficult one. She didn’t know why Monarch was still akumatizing Mr Pigeon if he had all of this new power, but she wasn’t complaining.
No, the cause of her current scenario was those reporters who constantly got in her and her partner’s faces. Usually, she sucked it up and left, but this time a specific reporter made a comment that made her freeze up.
“If you’re really supposed to be the perfect superhero, how did you lose against Shadowmoth?”
She doesn’t know how to respond, at first just staring blankly at the reporter. Chat came to her rescue.
“I think it’s time we make an exit,” he stated matter-of-factly, before holding onto her and vaulting over the rooftops on his staff.
When they were alone on a roof, he looked at her with concern. “Are you okay?”
He truly was too good for her. She didn’t deserve him. She nodded, eyes filling with tears, and quickly jumped into a near alleyway before he could say anything else.
She hadn’t noticed how close she was to the Liberty, so to say she was surprised when Luka walked past the alleyway with his bike was an understatement. His guitar was in the basket on the bike, just like it was when they talked right before the battle against Miracle Queen. It gave her a feeling of deja vu, and she couldn’t help but let out a small sob.
She quickly covered her face in her hands, hoping, praying that Luka hadn’t heard her. It seemed like she was out of luck.
“Marinette? Is that you?”
She tried to retreat further into the alleyway, but discovered it was a dead end. She wished she could just melt right through the wall so that he wouldn’t see her like this again. Ever.
“Marinette,” he spoke, gently, and then she heard the sound of his bike dropping to the ground, and the guitar making a small strum sound as wood met concrete. His guitar might be broken after this. Because of her. She couldn’t get anything right, could she?
She sank to the ground and buried her face in her knees. If she was small enough, he wouldn’t be able to see her. Nobody would be able to see her. She would be able to sit in that alley forever and just let herself wither away until the world was free of her existence.
She sobbed. Her eyes ached and her throat was sore. She could hear his footsteps slowly coming towards her, and she pushed herself against the wall further. He paused.
“Marinette?”
It felt like the tears would just never stop. Her eyes were like two little waterfalls, and her face was soaked in the water from them.
He reached down to touch her shoulder, and she didn’t flinch away from his touch, instead seeming to lean into it. He knelt down to her level.
“Marinette, can you look at me?”
She slowly raised her head so that they were making eye contact. His gaze was gentle, like a ray of sunshine during a horrible storm.
“Marinette, what happened?”
“I… I ca-can’t be… b-be–” she sobbed again, hiding her face in her hands. She could feel his dove-like fingers cupping her small hands in his larger ones and pulling them down, before wrapping her in a comforting hug.
“P-please do-don’t expect… expect me to b-be per… perfect,” she finally managed to gasp the words out of her mouth.
“Marinette, I don’t expect anything of you.” He held her tighter, as if he feared she would slip out of reach if he let go for even one second. “Nobody is perfect.”
And maybe, just maybe, if she stayed here in his arms forever, everything would turn out alright.