𝐯. new yorks brightest are tired

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FIVE | NEW YORKS BRIGHTEST ARE TIRED

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FIVE | NEW YORKS BRIGHTEST ARE TIRED

                         QUITE OFTEN YOU COULD HEAR MARINETTE LONG BEFORE YOU SAW HER

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QUITE OFTEN YOU COULD HEAR MARINETTE LONG BEFORE YOU SAW HER. The brunette moved in a tidal wave of crashes and bangs and 'sorry' yelled over her shoulder as she sprinted to wherever she needed to be fifteen minutes ago. The backdrop that was the world around her was a constant victim to her trips and falls. The decathlon team stared at the door after the first distant bang, counting the seconds she'd burst through the door with an excuse that didn't quite make sense to her situation. It was just an accepted trait at this point, whether or not people liked it was a different can of worms.

The blue double doors flew open and the brunette came tumbling in, doubling over herself. Her hair was mess, which happened when you ran from one side of the school to the other at Olympic speeds. A sea of impatient eyes stared at her while the fluorescent lights of the auditorium blinded her, seeming to be all be pointing at her. "Sorry, I'm late the—!"

"Dupain-Cheng, I don't wanna hear it," Mr Harrington sighed, not even looking up from his clipboard. "This is the fourth day in a row."

If there was one thing that also needed to be known about Marinette, it's that she was a people pleaser through and through. Not the most successful one, albeit but she tried her best. She hated the feeling of being looked down upon in disappointment. The brunette was in a constant feud with herself in trying to be the best variation of herself possible. Perhaps that's why being Ladybug had brought her a new sense of mental clarity that she'd not experienced before. When that costume melded itself to her skin she felt like an entirely different person—the kind that could do everything Marinette couldn't. Ladybug was never late to a crime scene.

"I know, I know but—" Her words faded out as someone slipped past her, into the room. The contact, although brief, made her shoulders tense and her face heat up. Her dark coloured eyes narrowed and she sent a deathly sidelong glare in the newcomers direction.

"Peter, you're upfront today," Mr Harrington stated in his classic deadpan tone, not batting an eye at the boy being later then her—again! Marinette looked around the room, hoping someone else would clock this bullshit but not a single eye was being bat.

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