Something Addicting

Adrenaline was addictive and the thrill even more so. Many things were addictive, drugs, alcohol, the need to be loved. But nothing could beat the thrill, the feeling of being unstoppable even if it was for only a second. But after the high is over everything goes downhill. Nothing worth the feeling of some positive emotion lasts forever. Drugs they kill, alcohol becomes abusive and the need to be loved leaves people desperate.

Marinette found herself in a stand still. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the thrill in the air but the reason she was feeling this way was not one she should be happy about. The tallest building in the city she learned to call home for the past few months. Gotham. Marinette fell in love with the city, it was broken from the inside much like she was. It held an intriguing exterior with the bright lights and tall buildings much like she did. But if you looked closely enough you would see just how shattered the city really was. So close to a resemblance of herself.

Wayne Enterprises towered over every other building in the city, making all the other buildings look small and insignificant. There was something about being so high that set the thrill into her bones. Being high was nothing new for the young woman but being so vulnerable in the moment made something snap in her mind. As her old superhero persona she was everything and more, she was unstoppable. But she wasn't a hero right now, only Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood in her place. An ordinary girl with a normal life. But that would be a lie and she loathed liars. She wasn't an ordinary girl with a normal life even only when she was Marinette. She was an outcast to people she once considered friends. She was a burden to those who raised her. And a punching bag who she used to fight.

Even if Paris looked up to their heroine they still criticized her. They would spit words at her if she made a simple mistake, and even go as far as to criticize her appearance. She wasn't pretty enough. She wasn't thin enough. She's too masculine. She wasn't enough. But she shouldn't dwell on those thoughts now, Paris was saved and free. But their words stuck to her like glue. The nightmares tore apart her sleep of the final battle. The simple reminders of anything in Paris shook her to the core and sent her in a spiral downhill. She was alone, no one to love and no one to be loved by.
The need to be loved was addictive in its own right, but she was accustomed to being alone.

The cool Gotham air hit her face as the stars finally shone through the once muggy sky. It was late, too late for most to still be awake. And the silence in the streets was enough to confirm what she had known for the last couple years. She was alone. But was being alone really so bad? There was no one to hurt and no one to get hurt by.

Even if Gotham was practically empty at this point in time the building lights still shone like any other night. They lit up some streets and highlighted other buildings, in a way it was beautiful. Most would find Gotham repulsive but there was something in the way it looked at this exact second, that made her want a closer look.

She stood on the ledge of Wayne Enterprises, the very edge. Her toes dangled off slightly but not enough to make her unstable. She was left to ponder her thoughts. She knew why she was here, but did she really want to go through with it? She was tired, too tired to care at this point. No one loved her and she loved no one. She didn't want to live a life that only caused herself and others pain. Not to the point where she is now. But there was doubt in her mind, a small voice in the back of her head telling her not to. In a way she was grateful for that tiny sliver of hope. But she couldn't make up her mind, an inner war as others would call it.

She stared at the city before her once again. Her eyes never leaving the sight. She lifted her left foot a little too far over the edge, just enough that she would be able to take a step forward, towards the ground. Her breath caught in her throat, she found her eyes were not willing to look below. Her leg was left suspended in the air for a minute longer, she hesitated. She knew in other circumstances hesitating got people killed, but right now she had all the time in the world to decide. But before her mind could make up a final decision she heard someone on the roof with her. She jerked her leg back onto the ledge where it once was. She swiftly looked over her shoulder to see one of Gotham's vigilantes. Red Hood.

She knew she wasn't in any danger or at least he wouldn't pose a threat at the moment. She felt safe enough to turn back around and face the city once more. She could hear Red Hood's footsteps nearing to where she was, he stopped beside her. But unlike her he was safe behind the railing. "Why don't you come down from the ledge?" She didn't answer, just remained silent. But she could hear it in his voice, the concern and how young he actually was, if she had to guess she would say they were around the same age. But age was irrelevant. "Are you okay?" He tried a different question, Marinette almost let out a scoff at the question but kept it to herself. But when she really thought about it, when was the last time someone asked her that? She couldn't remember. "I'm fine." She replied, her voice came out softer than she would have liked but it still held an edge. "You don't look fine." She knew what he meant. He knew what she was up here to do, or don't do in that matter. "Then stop looking." She felt a tinge of anger, she wanted to be alone and Red Hood had to come along and ruin everything. She almost laughed at the irony of it, she always hated being alone until she realized how much she loved it.

She hadn't advirterd her eyes to the vigilante the entire conversation so far, but she felt her eyes moving to where she could hear movement which just so happened to be him. He stood up on the ledge next to her, only a few centimeters between them. He was just as daring as she was, so close to the edge, toes just creeping off. But if he fell he had a means to get back up again. She didn't.

The two stood in silence for a few minutes before Marinette released a breath. Maybe, just maybe he could help her. "Fix it, please." Her voice was no louder than a whisper but he seemed to hear it. He switched his gaze back onto her. "Fix what?" He asked using the same tone as she did. She paused momentarily. "Fix me."
Red Hood continued to stare at her and she could only wonder what was going on inside his head. But her mind seemed to wonder once again.

What color are his eyes? Brown like the earth? Green like the grass? Blue like the sea? And if so what shade of blue?
For some reason she wished to see his eyes if only for a second. Eyes never lie, not like a person can.

But she was brought out of her thoughts by something rough touching her hand. She looked down to see Red Hood's gloved hand holding her own. She doesn't know what made her do it. But maybe somewhere inside of her sought out some comfort or human affection. She entwined their fingers together, grasping his hand with immense strength.

She didn't want to jump anymore, maybe she never did. She didn't want to die, but a slimmer kept saying she didn't want to live either, which both at the moment were true. She wanted to be loved. Love is an addictive drug that many get high on but Marinette found herself in the moment she was craving for it more than anything else she could ever have.

She kept a tight hold on Red Hood's hand and he did the same. They stayed silent but silent words were spoken between them.

The adrenaline was long gone and the thrill was an afterthought. But the need to be loved was still there.

It was addictive. The city. The need for more. The curiosity of it all...Him.

She knew curiosity killed the cat, it killed her too. But she found there was no way to stop her lips from parting and muttering the five words she so desperately wanted to ask. "What color are your eyes?"

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"From my childhood I never believed in permanence, but yet I still longed for it."
~Graham Greene