Harbored

Circuitry

Adrien sprung up from a warm, comfortable surface upon hearing  Father's special, ritualistic knock. Wait, how was that possible if he was still stuck in the palace dungeon?

His eyes popped open, pupils restricting and narrowing due to bright sunlight peeking through his curtains. Glancing around, he found himself in his bedroom. Blonde eyebrows furrowing in confusion, Adrien slipped out of his bed. Flannel pajamas clothed his body, slippers placed meticulously next to his nightstand. His muscles felt tight, so he engaged in light stretching.

"Adrien, do not force me to come in there and get you up," Father said. Adrien was mentally lost, wondering how he ended up here, and not stuck in a prison cell. 

Marinette.

Her name whispered through his mind, serving as a brutal reminder of his lost love. Adrien hoped the fate that preceded her was nearly painless and fast. He would never want her to suffer more than she should have.

"Adrien Athenese Agreste, in all my years of..." Father trailed off upon bursting into the quaint room, "What is with that expression on your face?"

"I uh, had a question to ask you."

"I am listening and, frankly, do not have all day to waste."

"How did I get here?"

Father's initial reaction was one of befuddlement. He had to pause before entertaining his exasperated son.

"To my knowledge, you went to bed last night after working a late shift. Now, if you are finished being nonsensical, the old bookshelves need deep cleaning. Dress in unimportant clothing, it is all cobwebs," Father proclaimed.

Adrien appeared perplexed, saying, "But, I cleaned those last week." Contributing to the cloud of bewilderment, Father said, "I have no idea how hard you must have fallen and bruised your head, but that room has not been cleaned in over thirty years. I did not certainly raise an insane person. Now, run along and get started." Father pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses as he turned around and exited Adrien's bedroom.

Adrien stood rigidly atop his oriental rug. If Father had no knowledge of his disappearance over the course of a week or two, maybe it didn't happen. But, who was the one to cast this cruel, vivid imagination upon his shoulders? How was any of this happening? Why only him? And whatever became of his true love?

Pushing these nagging questions to the deepest wells of his mind, Adrien dressed in old clothes and headed right to the old book room.

The supply cart squelched just as much as the first time. Deja vu coated his being completely, in an uncomfortable fashion. Adrien sprayed a rag with solution before pawing at the thick spider webs. His heart pummeled, as if echoing into darkness while screaming the name of the girl he longed to hold.

"Psst! Adrien! Over here!"

Aptly spinning on the ball of his foot, Adrien noticed Nino directly behind the golden vent in the wall. Everything was too familiar to him, too creepy. Adrien crossed the room, eventually opting to open the vent up to talk with his best friend.

"Nino! What happened to Marinette? Did you receive any word?" Adrien questioned. Nino raised one eyebrow, not looking certain at all. 

"Bud, I have no idea to what or whom you are referencing. But no matter! I scored us two invites to the King's supper later tonight," Nino finished with dramatic jazz hands.

"Nino, that dinner happened days ago. Do you remember the girl who practically kidnapped me? Or how we stayed the night at your place, only for me to run frantically after her?" he asked.