Work Text:
Félix stared out of the window, absorbed in the steady snowfall. The whiteness was beginning to pile on the windowsill and the rooftops across the street. The change from the morning was subtle, and it had happened over several hours. Slowly, Paris was turning into a winter wonderland.
Indifference was written all over him. As he leaned on his elbow, resting his cheek against his palm, he was deaf to the teacher calling his name until the burly woman slammed her ruler against his desk, barely missing his fingers.
Félix snapped out of his reverie, with an apology on his lips that never left his mouth.
“Eyes on the blackboard, Hollander.”
Félix shifted in his seat and dragged his eyes from the landscape. He sighed.
Somewhere out there was a sweet girl with dark hair and bright eyes, who trusted him to catch her when she fell. A girl whose face lit up at the sight of his. A girl who he couldn’t put out of his mind for long, no matter how much focus his tasks required. His thoughts kept running back to her.
His body itched to follow. To escape briefly from the painful reality and run away to another dimension where they could exist beside each other.
Félix would never admit it but those stolen moments meant more to him than words could express, though he tried to word them nonetheless. His journals were full of notes about her, unfinished sketches he was not proud of but kept anyway because he was not brave enough to ask her for a photograph, a keepsake that would remind him of her in case life forced them apart.
Outward, Félix’s attention seemed to have returned to the lesson. Inside, he was still with her.
┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈
On the other side of town, Marinette was sitting in another classroom on the other side of town, by an open window. Were she not so focused on her plotting, she would have shivered, yet she had no time to worry about things like catching a cold when there was a chance of seeing him again.
Marinette had always considered herself lucky but running into someone else who could transform into a superhero on the second day of her new secret life was simply the cream on the cake. And him being the sweetest, loveliest, most fascinating human being she had ever met was the cherry on top.
There had to be a way for her to be closer to him. She was determined to find it—or create it if there was no other way.
That’s why she needed a plan; except her pen wasn’t cooperating. It kept drawing pictures instead of making words, scattering his face on the pages of her notebook, an eye here, a pair of lips over there, his cute sharp nose three pages down, littered between her lesson notes and other daydreams.
Marinette gazed longingly out the window, wondering when she would be seeing him again. If she could talk him into building a snowman or having a snowball fight. If it was alright to entertain thoughts of another nature, the kind that made her face burn out of the blue, as though she was afraid someone could read her mind and find out the truth.
Maybe. Maybe not.
But no one could stop her.