Heartbreak Cure

1. The City of Heartbreak

"I've had it with your shit Marinette!" Standing in front of your parent's bakery, the rain pummeled itself against you and your sister.

"Then go!" Marinette snapped. "You always say you're leaving Paris, but you never follow through! Do us a favor and just go already!" She screamed.

In that moment, the light drained from both of your eyes.

"Y/n I-"

You stumbled backwards and held up a hand to stop her from speaking. "I heard you Marinette." You whispered.

Without another word, another glance, you stepped back inside your parents bakery and slammed the door shut behind you.

Marinette had always struggled with the complexities around the rain.

While the world and all its inhabitants depended on its nourishment, the way the sky was painted in all shades of muggy gray made the world seem so sad. So unbearable.

Why did sadness take over as the world was being replenished?

She just couldn't understand.

Every defining moment in her life took place in the rain. She cried in the rain, fell in love in the rain, broke hearts in the rain, and she even danced in it.

How could one thing—hold so much emotion and meaning in her life?

It just never clicked.

All you ever dreamed of was seeing the world.

You already had pretty strong groundwork laid out when it came to a travel bucket list, being that you grew up in Paris.

The wall to your bedroom contained a giant map with stars sprawled across it, marking the cities you wanted to visit one day. With a sign, you grabbed a red marker and crossed off New York.

Your time in the city was coming to an end.

"You're really leaving?" Her voice was as high pitched as it was when you met a year ago. You hated the sadness laced so clearly in her tone.

"I have to Zoe, I was only granted a year to stay here." You had met Zoe in front of the Statue of Liberty. She could tell you were clearly a tourist, so she showed you the real New York.

It was evident rather quickly that she didn't know much about the city herself, but the two of you found some amazing hole-in-the-wall pizza shops.

Zoe attended a boarding school, while you were staying with the family of an American girl named Jess.

You befriended the two of them, but Zoe ended up being the best friend you ever had. The two of you designed matching shoes, each with I love you written on the top of the left shoe. You were almost inseparable, spending every waking moment outside of school with her.

Leaving her was the hardest part. Since you both grew up feeling isolated from your families, the role of the sister that had felt so forgotten had been filled into both of your lives.

That was—until you had to leave.

"I know that—I wish I could convince my dad to pay for you to stay and attend my boarding school, but in all honesty you wouldn't want to come here." She sighed.

"Have you ever thought about going to Paris? You could live with your mom." You mentioned even though you knew her mom was wickeder than her father.

"The thought has crossed my mind...she used to live here but went back there so suddenly. It's honestly been peaceful." She snickered. "I think it may have something to do with my half-sister or something."

You laughed softly at her words, knowing full well her mother tried to be around anyone but her husband, so she couldn't have gone back for him.

"Well, even if you don't end up leaving New York, you have to come visit me some time, promise?" You asked her and she hummed in response.

"I promise."

You were wrong, the flight back to Paris was the worst.

You had thought the worst part was going to be when you said goodbye to your friends. Even though that moment had been completely dreadful, the three of you took a picture together one last time, promising to see each other as soon as you could between your tears.

Now walking into the airport, you felt an undeniable dread seep into your stomach.

"I don't want to see her again." You groaned as you scrolled through your phone to see where your parents were waiting for you.

It had been a year since you had last spoken to your sister. She messaged you a few times, almost begging to talk about the last fight the two of you had. It was so out of character for her that you weren't even sure if she was the one who sent it.

With time, the anger you held for her fluctuated.  Some days the memories would make you so angry you couldn't breathe, and other days you dreamt about reconciling with her.

That, unfortunately, would remain a dream.

You quickly noticed your parents. The two of them held up a large white sign with your name sprawled across it. You knew it had been written by your father due to the slanted letters.

Marinette stood next to your father, half of her body tucked behind his nervously. You noticed she also had a sign in her hand, much more creative and colorful than your parent's basic one.

She always was like that, colorful.

Though, you wondered which one of them made her craft a sign. You knew she didn't do that on her own.

You approached them and they responded with a spine-shattering hug. "Too tight you guys." You groaned as you dropped your bags to try and pry their arms off you. Your eyes averted to the left and you noticed Marinette made no move to try and hug you.

While it stung, you were glad since you had zero desire for her to touch you.

Your emotions were so conflicting, you weren't sure what was draining you more...those or the jet lag.

"Let's go home you guys I'm beat." You rubbed your forehead and picked your luggage back up, handing a bag to your father. Your parents nervously looked back and forth between the two of you when they realized their twin daughters had yet to say a word to each other.

It stayed that way the rest of the ride home.

You walked upstairs immediately and ignored the nervous conversation your parents had with your sister as you moved swiftly to your room, which was on the middle level of the house with your parents. You used to share the upstairs room with Marinette when you were younger. The two of you would often sneak out onto your balcony past your bedtimes and stargaze.

That all changed the older the two of you got. You eventually begged, well, demanded, your parents to clear out the old storage room and make it into your own room.

It made you wonder why your parents were so shocked when you didn't speak with your sister, it never went well when you two did. What difference would a year apart make?

The room looked exactly how you left it and you were relieved your family had left it untouched.

You looked out your small window and sighed as you watched the people in love with each other and this city roam the streets under you.

You shook your head and hung up your map, wishing to be back in your city of love, instead of your city of heartbreak.