Harbored

Confession

"We got raw beef, a head of lettuce and some weird aluminum tin thing," Adrien said as Marinette cutely wrinkled her nose at her grotesque options, pulling the red wig off her midnight head. 

"Tin over uncooked meat anytime, anywhere," she proudly retorted.

Plucking the opaque container from the top shelf of the fridge, Adrien plunked it on the countertop. He sat down to the left of Marinette. Curiously, he peeled the lid off, revealing a mushy pile of chicken salad. 

"Okay. That's repulsive," Adrien gagged. Plugging her nose to remove its nasty stench, Marinette chunked the chicken salad into a nearby garbage can. "What now?" he asked her.

Marinette paused, assessing her thoughts as she continuously stroked her chin. "Well, Hotcakes, I don't want to get your hopes up but, if I remember correctly, there is quite the stash of imported peanut butter around here somewhere," Marinette says. Quietly slipping off the counter, she effortlessly glides to the pantry, her massive skirt flowing behind her balletically.

She bends to crouch towards the ground. Her nimble fingers tap a few of the symmetrically stacked bricks, attempting to find a hollow one. She sat deep in the back corner, feeling up the wall. "Ah hah!" Marinette proclaimed as she yanked three bricks back. Beholding the jar of golden perfection, Adrien licked his cracked lips in amazement, more than ready to feast upon the substance.

"I think I saw celery in the fridge," Adrien offered, slowly moving to retrieve the vegetable. "Do not bother, I am more of a pickle person," she replied. "Pickles and peanut butter? You have to be joking me here," he said. "Do not knock it until you try it," Marinette winked as she once again flopped on top of the counter. 

Adrien rolled his green eyes.

Releasing the air tight seal of the jar, Marinette dipped a pickle coin into the sticky substance, being finicky as to the amount applied. She couldn't decide how much was too little or how much was too much, before deciding to throw petty caution to the wind. Popping the odd combination in her delicate mouth, she hummed of great approval. 

"So odd," he mumbled.

Adrien ungracefully stuck a stalk of celery into the jar, swirling it around. She caught on to his appalling behavior and wanted to stop it, before he spiraled out of control. Marinette slapped his hand, still chewing before swallowing. "Do you have any idea how expensive this brand of peanut butter is? Do not treat it like that common, domestic shit, this is the real deal," she informed, in utter disbelief towards his application strategy.

Adrien callously slid the celery against the jar's lip to remove the excess. The hair of his brow dipped in false concentration, trying to not lash out, trying to restrain himself. If Adrien got angry, Lord knows what the little ball of fire of a girl bestowed near him would do. He paused, asking, "How do you know how expensive this is and just where it was hiding?"

"I have magnificent location skills is all."

It was as though a switch flickered up inside of him. His mind not taking any proper time to mull over how to best approach her constant fable telling, no matter how much it annoyed Adrien to bits.

"Oh, do not give me that load of baloney. It is high time you start answering all of my questions and stop ignoring me. I am so ridiculously sick to death of being blatantly brushed off by you. It is like you resent my feelings in order to amuse yourself. Do you even think? Wait, I got this one. No you do not. Because of your brash actions, I can no longer enjoy my quiet, solitary evening with my best friend, let alone have some sort of normal life after this. Why did you drag me into this? Was it to shove me into lifelong misery because guess what? You nailed it on the head every damn time. Why subject me to this shackled life without my consent? Answer me this time, Marinette," Adrien pestered, his face a glowering red color.