Marinette has a secret. She's been hiding her eye color since she was little. She was a black. Of couse blacks were feared and if anyone found out you were a black you would be taken to a camp where they resided. So she hid it. Until she found Damia...
*Warning: some mentions of abuse, blood, and alcohol*
*Kissy Kissy Snoggy Snoggy Daminette moment too*
(Im sooo mature, I know 🙄🙄🙄)
Marinette
I drag my feet as I walk, my mind racing. I follow the assassin silently, Damian's eyes piercing the back on my head. I knew he was thinking as well. My emotions are finally catching up to me, the fear, anxiety, shock, everything, now that my adrenaline has faded.
The assassin turns and bows, as we enter a fancy room. The door closes and I stare at the bed, my body suddenly frozen. A hand brushes mine and I turn my head. Damian's eyes lock with mine and I stare at the guilt swirling in his eyes.
Immediately, I know exactly what he was thinking. I turn toward him fully and softly press my lips on his. His emotions crash into my mind, our powers looping together. His hand cups my cheek softly as we pull away, our foreheads touching.
I'm fine Damian. Don't worry please.
His voice echoes in my mind lightly.
I know you aren't. I can feel your emotions, Angel.
A smile graces my lips as I respond.
They're from the fight Dami. I didn't have time to be scared. The prep was so quick, and I was still in shock. Only know can I feel them now that the shock has worn, and my adrenaline has faded.
His eyes search mine before he nods.
Alright, Angel.
I know he wasn't fully convinced but I wasn't going to say anything. I sit on the bed, my mind slightly put at ease by Damian. I feel his presence leave my mind and clothes land in my lap. I look up at Damian, who pointed at a door.
I give him a small nod and go toward. I gently twist the knob and open the door. It was a bathroom. I close it when I enter and the clothes land on the counter. I gently strip the dress off, shifting my body uncomfortable so the fabric doesn't rip.
My feet slide out of my heels and land on the cold tile. I flex my toes, my feet feeling weird from suddenly being arched to being flat. I put on the outfit provided, happy they were casual clothing.
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I take the moon clip out of my hair, letting my blue locks fall down my back. I grab the brush on the counter and gently stroke it through my hair. I place the hat on my head and through my hair over my shoulder. I stare at my reflection, the makeup on my face and wipe my sleeve on it.
My makeup smears slightly and I rub it more. My cheek turns red from the rubbing and tears well in my eyes. I wasn't fine. Far from it. My brush hits the counter as my hands tremble. I slide down to the floor, sobs racking my body silently.
