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prompt: you share a dance with marinette where you silently lay your feelings to rest
warnings: [fem]reader, [she/her] pronouns, hurt without comfort (angst), internalized homophobia(?)-reader can't come to terms with her sexuality (she tries)
notes: if any of the warnings make you upset or uncomfortable, please feel welcome to skip there are no hard feelings!
edited: 12/18 words: 2007
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It's a beautiful night; a perfect night to have dupont's annual ball to fall on. The sky was equally as appealing, but nothing seemed to outshine the one you know as Marinette Dupain Cheng.
Your teeth nipped at the dry skin on your lips, paying no mind to the sting as anxious thoughts whirled around your head.
It's a scary place inside the depths of your mind where thoughts-ones you shouldn't be having-hid in the darkest parts. But there was no running from them, no matter how hard you tried to.
Deny. Deny. Deny. It's what you did each time your heart raced around Marinette. When she smiled and it was all you could think about for the rest of your days. When Alya mentioned the possibility of you liking Marinette. Deny. Deny. Deny. It's all you could do when someone like you exists.
But now, more than ever, it was getting harder and harder to deny your feelings. Wouldn't it be easier to accept them? To accept you for you? You groaned in frustration, dragging your hands down your face as you stared up at the twinkling stars.
"Everything would have been so much simpler if you were a boy." You thought to yourself, feeling guilty to wish such a thing upon Marinette when it couldn't be helped.
"You came here to do one thing, and one thing only." You muttered to yourself, mentally preparing yourself as you moved to take a step. "Your heart deserves the closure."
You didn't move an inch.
You groaned out frustratedly, the loud music coming from inside the Grand Palais doing no good to ease said frustration. "This is stupid." You hissed under your breath, turning around to leave when a voice calls out your name.
"There you are! I tried calling you earlier but you weren't picking up!" Alya shouts, plucking the hem of her dress off the ground as she rushes to you, showcasing her everyday shoes. "You weren't about to ditch us, now were you?" She accuses, catching you in the act of exactly that.
You cleared your throat-it's pretty dry. God, you need some water. "I forgot my phone at home. Sorry." You laugh nervously, wiping your clammy hands on the hem of your dress.
