6 || umbrella

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Adrien gulped the instant coffee down. The bitterness didn't faze him anymore. "For a model, you sure have a horrible diet," a voice called. He directed his gaze down the steps rather than the street. Alya stood there, gripping the strap on her bag. She looked weird without her usual company. Marinette hadn't been by Alya's side for some time now but it still felt new to him.

"What ever could you mean?" He tried his best at a smile but just couldn't form it. It felt foreign on his lips. Why should he smile if Marinette was dead?

"I literally mean you have a horrible diet," Alya sassed back. "All I ever see you drink is that cheap coffee, which let me tell you is basically sacrilege, and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." Her head was tilted to the side but her grip on the leather strap didn't cease.

"I'm tired," Adrien mumbled. It was a lame excuse but it still left his chapped lips. He could see the eye roll from the top of the stairs.

"You should be taking care of yourself," Alya said knowingly as she approached the steps to their old school.

Adrien shrugged. He let his eyes gaze into the dark liquid. He began to drown in the coffee and his own sorrow. He tore his eyes away from his dimmed reflection. The grey sky seemed to darken his mood. He missed Marinette.

"Sometimes I come here too," Alya said with a forced smile. "When I miss her... I like remembering all the good times." Adrien could only nod because that was why he went to the school in the first place. This is where it all started. All with a black umbrella.

Always, Marinette • adrienette auDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora