The wind on Our backs

23- The moon

Adrien's September days bled together, each one dragging out in a dull monotony. The world outside had begun to cool as fall approached, but Adrien stayed inside, hiding away from the crisp air and the changing leaves. There was a time, not that long ago, when he and Rachel would have been outside walking the familiar paths and playing tag in the park. Now, though, even the thought of going for a short walk left him exhausted. His body betrayed him; even a few steps would leave him lightheaded, breathless, and leaning against the wall to steady himself. He hated it. He hated the way his parents had to look out for him all the time now, hated seeing Rachel's worried glances when she thought he wasn't looking. Most of all, he hated how weak he felt. It was humiliating. It was disgusting.

He couldn't bring himself to leave his room anymore. It was easier just to lie in bed, where the aches and pains that never truly left him weren't as prominent. His parents noticed, of course. Adrien could hear them talking to Rachel in the hallway, trying to be quiet but failing. "He hasn't come out in days," his mother said. "He barely eats. I don't know what to do." There was a hopelessness in her voice that made Adrien's chest tighten, and he quickly turned over in bed, squeezing his eyes shut as if that could block out everything.

Moments later, a gentle knock came at his door. "Adrien?" It was Rachel's voice, soft but steady. He didn't respond right away, but he heard her step inside regardless, the door clicking shut behind her. She walked over and sat down in the chair beside his bed, her hands resting in her lap. Adrien finally turned his head to look at her, his expression as tired as he felt. "You don't have to come in here," he said, his voice raspy. "I'm fine."

Rachel gave him a small smile, not fooled by his attempt to brush her off. "I know you're fine," she said calmly, "but your parents are worried, and... I miss seeing you outside." She didn't say it like she was trying to guilt him, more like she was just stating a fact. "I know," Adrien replied, turning his gaze to the window. "I just don't feel like going out. It's not... I'm not up for it." There was a brief silence, then he added, almost as if admitting it to himself, "I don't want you to have to help me."

Rachel nodded, as though she'd already known what he was thinking. "You don't have to go outside," she said. "But how about we go downstairs? We could watch a movie. It doesn't have to be anything big. Your mom even made some food for you." Adrien hesitated. "I don't know..." The idea of going downstairs felt overwhelming, like it would take more energy than he had. "Just for a little bit," Rachel urged, her voice still gentle but with a hint of encouragement. "You can pick the movie, and it's just us and your parents. No one's going to push you."

He didn't have a good reason to say no. And he could tell that Rachel was really trying her best to not pressure him. "Alright," he finally agreed, pushing himself up with a groan. "Just for a little while."

Rachel helped him downstairs, but she was careful not to act like she was helping. It was subtle, the way she walked just a little bit ahead of him, letting him set the pace, her hand hovering but never touching him. By the time they reached the living room, Adrien was already out of breath, but he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he dropped onto the couch and grabbed the TV remote, scrolling through the options until he settled on Inside Out. "Haven't seen it in a while," he said, trying to sound casual.

As the opening scenes played, his mother brought in a bowl of instant mac and cheese. It wasn't the kind of meal she usually made—she preferred cooking hearty dishes from scratch—but this time, she'd kept it simple. Adrien stared at the bowl for a moment. It was different from all the soups and carefully prepared meals they'd tried to get him to eat lately. It was just mac and cheese, plain and familiar. For some reason, that made it easier to eat. He took a few bites, the cheesy, processed taste oddly comforting. As he ate, memories of his childhood drifted back to him. He used to make mac and cheese on his own and call it a "meal," feeling proud whenever he got the measurements just right.

He didn't realize he was crying until the tears dripped onto his hand. The sensation caught him off guard, and he quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve, trying to control the sudden wave of emotion. But the more he tried to swallow it back, the harder it was to hold in. His shoulders shook, and his breath hitched as he let out a soft, strangled sob. He didn't want to cry, not in front of his parents, not in front of Rachel. But once it started, there was no stopping it. He covered his face with one hand, turning away as much as he could, and kept eating the mac and cheese as if that could somehow hold him together.

Nobody said anything. Rachel, his mom, and dad all pretended not to notice, their eyes focused on the TV screen. They let him cry in peace, and for that, Adrien was grateful.

After the movie ended, Rachel followed Adrien back upstairs. He walked a little slower now, like the energy had drained from him entirely. Back in his room, he went straight to the telescope by the window, pointing it toward the night sky. "Take a look," he said, his voice still a little shaky. "The moon's bright tonight."

Rachel peered through the telescope and gasped softly. "It's beautiful," she murmured, the awe in her voice making Adrien's lips curve into a faint smile. He stood beside her, staring at the bright orb in the sky. "The moon calms me," he admitted quietly. "I look at it when I can't sleep. Sometimes, it's the only thing that makes me feel... I don't know... normal." His gaze dropped to the floor, and he let out a small, bitter laugh. "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you," he added. "I've just... I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm scared, and I'm tired of pretending I'm okay."

Rachel turned to him and, without hesitation, wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You don't have to explain yourself," she said softly, her voice steady. "You're allowed to feel however you feel."

He leaned into the hug, his eyes closing as he breathed in her comforting presence. It was easier to feel strong with her around, even if only for a little while. When she finally left, Adrien stood at the window, staring up at the moon. It hung there in the sky, bright and indifferent, a silent witness to all his quiet struggles.

Rachel walked home under that same moon, her eyes wet with unshed tears. She didn't let herself cry—not now, not when Adrien was counting on her to be strong. She tilted her head back and whispered an apology to the night sky. "I'm sorry, Adrien," she said, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to think of you that way." It scared her to imagine the moon as something that would remind her of losing him. But then she shook her head, scolding herself. Remembering Adrien shouldn't feel like a bad thing, even if it hurt. She took one last look at the glowing sphere above, as if she could draw some kind of reassurance from it, and then continued walking home.

And as Adrien sat back down on his bed, the last of the tears finally dried on his cheeks. He didn't know if he felt better or worse, but at least, for the first time in a while, he didn't feel entirely alone.