Is It Too Late To Say Sorry?

Untitled Part 7

Adrien's POV

Growling, I storm into my room, transforming back into my civilian form as I did so. Plagg has enough sense to avoid me, smart kwamii, I'd avoid me too. I pace back and forth in my room, grumbling quietly to myself. I had her, I had her right where I wanted her, so close to killing her, and yet she got away. I was so close to being rid of that pesky little bug. So close to exact my revenge and she got away!

I storm into the bathroom, wanting a warm shower to take some of the edge off. But I wouldnt need that if she was how i wanted her, dead! I stop in front of the mirror and look at my-no- that goody-two-shoes reflection. Its his fault, if he had'nt made me hesitate, if he hadn't made me doubt myself I would have already decimated her.

'No, no, you don't mean that." Startled, I look at the mirror to see a reflection of the old Adrien. His hair brushed, kind eyes, and light clothing. I sneer at the sight.

"And what would you know? Dont you remember what she did to us, to me?" I growl lowly.

'You should know full well that you wont do such a thing. You're being controlled, if you weren't you wouldn't do that.' the reflection replies, its smile sympathetic.

"I am not controlled, I am no ones puppet! How would you know that anyway, you're just a damn reflection. A pityful one at that." I reply back, my head hurting, panting.

'No, you would not kill her, some where deep down-'

"Shut up! How would you know how I feel about that girl, how would you know that I'm being controlled? You wouldn't! You wouldn't know!" I yell at him. My head is bordering on a migraine, my breathe getting more and more labored.

'You wouldnt! You wouldnt kill her, you wouldnt hurt her!' his voice gets louder, rattling my head.

"Ha! Shows what you know, I did hurt her, I've seen her blood!" I scream at him. My head is ringing, I can barely keep my eyes open. I put my hands over my head and hold it close to my knees.

"Ahhh! Just shut up!" I scream. The bathroom is spinning, I feel sick to stomach, my breathe is so labored that I'm basically hyperventilating. He is still talking, I cant hear him, only ringing, just this loud ringing.

"I said SHUT UP!" I punch him in the face, only to have the mirror shatter under my fist. The room stopped spinning and the ringing stopped. I still feel sick though. I feel bile rising up in my throat, I rush to the toilet, the mirror shards sinking into my feet. I empty everything out of me but it wasnt until ten minutes later that my body was convinced of the fact. I look and inspect my hand, watching rivulets of blood stream down it. I look at the bloody footprints that I have trailed through there. I sigh to myself as I get up and walk to the cupboards to find the tweezers, ingnoring the sting of the glass going farther into my foot.

Injuries are an annoying bother.