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Green eyes scanned the male in front of him. Casual clothes that fell wide around his slender body as if he’d been losing a lot of weight lately. Summer heat trapped in the little space between his skin and the fabric. Blond hair stuck to the young male’s forehead and drenched in sweat. It didn’t take long for Adrien to recognize himself in the huge mirror that covered most of his closets front. His hand made its way to the height of his eyes. His body responded with a shiver when he touched the cold glass. The green that used to sparkle when he was young now looked less alive.
“Dad didn’t come for dinner,” he mumbled letting himself fall onto the well made bed. “again.”
Sadness washed over his face as he scanned the room for his kwami. His room was the only room in the mansion that wasn’t covered with his face. In these four walls he let all his wards down and transformed from a supermodel to a picture of misery. The emeralds found the black cat at the end of his bed; sleeping and drooling while sleep talking about cheese. Absently Adrien started stroking his miraculous, resting with his hand on his stomach. If he pressed that hand down strong enough he could feel the abnormalities of his skin through the shirt.
Adrien lifted up his shirt just wide enough to slip his hand under it. His fingers caressed the scars on his lower abdomen right above his hip bone. Those were the marks of several years of being abandoned by his father. Self-inflicted cuts deep enough to scar and if they weren’t deep enough the next ones were. His eyes flinched in pain when he peeled off the scab of a fresher cut. Self-harm, cutting – people had a lot of words for what he was doing before he even knew what to call it. He was perfectly aware of what he am doing, and how it affected his mental and physical health.
The first time he’d hurt himself was shortly after his mother left him – alone with his dad. The only thing he remembered was that his 'babysitter' Nathalie watched him on the playground and some rude kid said words that cut deep in his body.
“Nobody loves you.”
That’s when he freaked out. But he had learned long ago that he had to contain his feelings, so he kept a smile but punched the sand where his hand met a piece of shattered glass; cutting his hand open. After all this years he couldn’t exactly tell what else than pain ran through his head, but the anger about his father, that kid and his whole life flew out in the rhythm of his heartbeat. He watched his hand in amazement as blood painted it red while his young babysitter probably lived through her fifth midlife crisis.
Red – his new favorite color – a color that should paint as well as control his future life.
Adrien sighed in relief when he felt warm liquid cover his fingers. There was a reason why he always wore dark shirts. With his cuts tending to re-open sometimes. Somewhere deep in his mind he knew what he was doing was wrong but it was a strange addiction. Instead of screaming or possibly hurting others Adrien hurt himself. But nobody knew about it. He even doubted that someone would care, except Nino. All the other people only cared about his looks or his grades.
Well his kwami knew about his nasty habit but Plagg had already stated that all he cared about was chees and a good night of sleep. As long as he didn’t endanger his life, he wouldn’t interfere. And Adrien never thought about killing himself. Maybe in the past he had thought about it but that was before he became Chat Noir. Before he met his princess, who valued him for his skills rather than his looks.
A glance to the watch told him that it was almost time to sneak out for night patrol. There he would meet the beautiful woman wrapped in his favorite color.
Ladybug.
His lady.
Withdrawing his hand from his stomach Adrien lave the red liquid a short lick before he wiped the rest in his dark shirt. Another habit of his. After that he inspected the mess on his stomach. The biggest cut going from his right rip to the mid of his hip. A red line surrounded by smaller ones in a field of scars. He had scratched off most the scab of the large one. The blood pooled in drops on the light skin and a bit of it probably ran inside his belly button.
“Good thing my suit is black.”, he murmured as he rose from his bed to check the ladyblog. Maybe a new post would tell him where he could meet the beauty of his night. Lost in his thoughts Adrien ended up browsing old pictures of Ladybug rather than looking for news. His shirt wet against his body from sweat and blood. Maybe scratching right before patrol wasn’t one of his brightest ideas. “Plagg,” he said in a demanding voice to which the black kwami reacted with a yawn. “Let’s go!”
Chat Noir, the ruler of the night, was a totally different person than the supermodel Adrien Agreste. As soon as his appearance changed his behavior seemed to change too.
Adrien always held back his feelings; kept them hidden behind a polite smile.
Chat was allowed to show emotions; to be angry and pout.
Adrien was the smart kid that most parents would be proud of, with skills like being able to play multiple instruments and speaking multiple languages.
Chat was the wild alley cat where not even the most innocent kid would dare to ask their parents if they could keep it.
Adrien had almost no self-confidence.
Chat had enough self-confidence for both of them.
Absent in his thoughts, the black cat jumped from rooftop to rooftop; searching for his princess.