What's With Marinette? || A Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir Fanfic

Chloe Bourgeios

"How're you doing in the bluenette department?"

Chloe stood silently in front of her father's desk. Her left hand is clasped around her right wrist in front of her, legs together and head down.

"She's been majorly upset, and she hates my guts..." Chloe whispered distraughtly, her eyes darting around the office, trying not to meet her father's.

"Good. You've been doing well. I'll give you this week's allowance in a few. It'll be deposited into your bank account in a matter of half an hour. You're dismissed," her father shooed her away, going back to working on whatever he was doing before she reported back to him.

She quietly walked out of the office, making sure the door closed gently behind her, lest she gets screamed at for slamming it. She walked down the halls straight to her room. Once she entered, she closed and locked the door, then slid down to the floor and buried her head in her knees.

'I'm sorry, Mari.'

Chloe started sobbing. Tears were streaming down her face. She wrapped her arms around her legs and sat there for an hour, crying her eyes out at the best friend she lost because of her piece of sh** father.

*Trigger Warning*

She banged her head against the door and stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, contemplating whether she wanted to remain where she was or move to her bed. She eventually decided on the latter. She stood from her balled-up position and walked into her bathroom. She glanced in the mirror and grimaced at the face looking back at her. Makeup was in streaks down her face, tear tracks following behind. She clenched her teeth, anger and self-hate racing through her. She reared her fist back and punched the mirror, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces. She stood there for a few minutes, panting and trying to catch her breath before she felt pain race through her hand.

'Oh, I'm bleeding,' Chloe thought mundanely, observing her fist with a blank expression.

Her fist was cut in several places, shards of the mirror caught in some of the lacerations. She decided against wrapping it, waiting for after her shower. She undressed slowly, uncovering bruises in various stages of healing all over her, the most recent one on her right wrist. Turning the knob for the hot water, she felt it until she deemed it hot enough to get in--and by hot enough, it nearly scorched her skin off.

*Trigger End*

She sat on the shower floor, obtaining the same position she had not moments ago. She dazed off, her mind going a million miles a minute, thinking of all the things she wished had never happened within her lifetime.

"Ms. Chloe?"

She startled, knocking her head into the shower wall. She climbed to her feet quickly, her heart pounding in her chest.

"One sec- I mean, one moment, please!" Chloe shouted back, stuttering over her words to sound proper.

She rushed to clean herself, soap rinsing off her body and out of her hair. She hopped out of the shower, dried off as quickly as she could, and wrapped a towel around herself.

"How may I help you, Jean?" Chloe asked when she opened the door, standing with on hand on her towel to keep it closed.

Her butler, Jean, was standing in front of her. His eyes trailed to the bruises that could be seen on her arms and shins. His eyes grew sad, but his face remained blank.

"Your father requests your presence in his office," the butler informed.

Chloe shuddered faintly, her mind already thinking of ways to hide her punishments tomorrow.

"Inform him I'll be right there," Chloe said softly, walking slowly past the butler to her closet, looking through her clothes to see what would be presentable for her father.

She found a pair of blue skinny jeans, a white tank top, a black cardigan, and black peep-toe heels. She dropped her towel—after making sure her butler had left the room—and dressed, confirming there to be no wrinkles in her clothing.

Having found the first aid kit in her bathroom cabinet under the sink, she cleaned her hand and placed small bandages over the wounds. She applied foundation over them to hide them into her skin. Her father finding out was a rather bad choice in her opinion. She cleaned her bathroom mess (the mirror, broken glass, and bandaid wrappers).

Once she reached her bedroom door after having done everything else, she stopped.

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

BrEaTh In...

BrEaThE oUt...

...

Time to meet up with her father.

She huffed quietly and opened her bedroom door, closing it gently behind her and slowly making her way to her father's office. She will be okay after this.

I'll be okay... I hope.
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One hour later...

She ran into her room, slamming the door behind her. Tears were streaming down her face, and her face was twisted in an angry scowl. Her clothes looked to be ripped in some places, her heels had broken off at some point while she had been running through the halls.

Why does this have to happen? Why to me? What did I do?! Why?! Why?! WHY?!

She screamed and slammed her palms behind her against her bedroom door. She grabbed potted plants and threw them against walls, knocking over tables, kicking down chairs, until almost everything in her room had been shattered.

Her hands were shredded from the shards of the pots the plants had been in. Her feet throbbed from kicking the chairs. Her arms hurt because of her father.

Her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees. Her howls and sobs could be heard down the hall, causing Jean to sprint down the hallway and slam her door open.

He took in the state of her room, surprise and concern showing on his face. His eyes then landed on the cause of the noise, his gaze softening to one of worry and sadness. He walked over slowly, emphasizing his steps so as not to alarm the girl. He knelt beside her, his arms hesitantly wrapping around the blonde. He grunted in shock when she flung herself into his arms. His hesitancy flew out the window then and he wrapped his arms firmly around her, keeping the hug loose but tight enough to show he was there.

"Why..."

He looked down at the top of her head, her head having buried into his chest.

"Why does he do this?" She whimpered, frustration and dejection seeping into her voice. "What's the point? I don't understand. Why does he treat me like this? I didn't do anything wrong, did I? What did I do?"

Jean could not find anything to respond to that, so he just kept quiet and hugged the girl, wishing she did not have to go through all of this pain and misery.

He just wished her life would not have been so full of abuse and despair.

He wished to make her happy and take her away from here.

He wished for this all to end.

Little did either of them know, this all would end fairly soon, and no one would ever have expected who would have brought the end to this.

Not even the person who ends it.
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SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!!!!

Hope you enjoyed it tho!! :)

Have a happy day/night/evening!!