Off Pointe

I Won't Give Up On You

Adrien trudged through the silent, snow-covered Parisian streets, shrouded in solitude and a desire to remain unnoticed. He'd stayed in the venue for another hour before leaving, his body frozen in turmoil and a heavy feeling in his heart. He thought his father had destroyed him enough, instead he'd destroyed himself a hell of a lot easier.

He knew why he'd done it. It was so much easier for him to send her away before she made the choice to leave him. He was in control of the situation, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt, even more so than any other decision in his life.

A rock became his next victim as he kicked it along the path in front of him, the small object bouncing around as it continued moving forward. Everything and everyone was moving forward — apart from him that was.

Adrien had gone from the possibility of everything he ever desired to nothing, all in one night. Maybe his father was right, maybe he couldn't survive without him.

Stopping beside a building, Adrien rested his back to the cold, hard brick, tilting his head back and exhaling shakingly. The hot steam from his mouth floated above him in a mocking dance of hurt and unease. He hated himself. For the first time ever, he was disgusted. He didn't like Adrien Agreste, he hadn't for a while, but right now he despised him. He hated him with every single bone in his body.

His hand itched to reach for his phone to beg Marinette to come to him, to apologise for the horrendous idea he had about her leaving and begging her to stay, but he couldn't do that. But that kind of emotional manipulation would make him just like his father.

Pushing from the wall, Adrien continued his way along the abandoned streets and towards the studio, digging for the keys in his pocket to let himself in.

He missed Plagg. He wished his mentor had been there with him, to celebrate the success and make sure he made the right decision when it came to Marinette, because the more he thought about it, the more he could see how wrong it was, especially as he had no option of time travel to go back and correct it. He was, once again, well and truly alone.

The door to the studio was slightly ajar, Adrien grabbing hold of his phone from his pocket just in case he needed to call the police. He was sure Plagg and Tikki were at home, so no one should be in there.

Pushing it open, Adrien called out in greeting, his heart thumping in his chest with each pounding step of his boots on the ground.

"Hello?" he asked again, a sound of music hitting his ears as he gained distance on the main studio.

Someone was in there — dancing.

Adrien stood for a moment and watched the fluidity of movements and his heart yearned even more for Marinette. He remembered that first audition, the way she moved along the floor in a unique pattern not seen with ballet dancers, the night she'd stayed late in the studios and he just knew he needed to dance with her, her first night here at the studio — the uncertainty of joining the class, but the way he'd supported and persuaded her.

And how she had looked that evening in her elegant, pink dress with a wonderful glow on her face. The excitement and happiness. Something he'd managed to rip away from her in the matter of minutes.

A choked sob left his mouth, a hand lifting to cover it and not announce his arrival to the dancer, but it was too late. She stopped, turning around to face him, the breath catching in his throat as he studied her features – features he knew.

The woman lifted a hand and waved, Adrien absentmindedly repeating the action and making his way into the studio.

"H-hi," he greeted. "Are you here to see me?"