Borderline

skin & muffins

"I'm not positive if I should thank you, or if I should lecture you for that little stunt you just pulled back there," Marinette antagonized. She was still being held captive in Adrien's arms, as he refused to let her go. "Who was that creep anyway?" Adrien quizzed, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "Just someone I met in my building. That's all," she replied, fiddling with her fingers.

"I don't want you with him again. He looked like bad news."

Marinette couldn't help but laugh at his insinuations. It was humorous, really. "What are ya laughing for?" he asked. "Oh, it's nothing," she continued to giggle like a schoolgirl, getting louder and louder by the second. "It's just, you're acting like you're my boyfriend; all protective and shit," she finally said.

Adrien grunted while rolling his eyes. "I only saved you so I could get you to thank me mercifully with your body," he spoke so casually, yet so lowly. She snorted like a pig, finding it humorous that he was still trying to have sexual relations with her, despite their last encounter with said activity.

"We need to put your shoes back on," Adrien finally noticed her barefoot feet, and wished to remedy the situation. He sat her down on a ledge that was protruding from a wall, which was comprised of mortar and broken, multicolored glass. "Just what do you think you're doing, Adrien?" Marinette asked, curious for the answer. 

"Drying your wet feet," he answered simply.

She raised one slender eyebrow, wondering just how he would accomplish his goal. Slipping off his t-shirt languidly, his tanned muscles were exposed to the elements, and to the woman's careful gaze. Marinette tilted her head, staring at a faint freckle just to the left of his innie belly button. Eventually, her gaze travelled upwards, meeting a shy smile uncharacteristically strewn across Adrien's usually sinister face. "It's all I have to clean up the fountain water, with" he breathed. 

The gesture shocked Marinette, taking in this gentlemanly move that surpassed all understanding, when it was coming from the comorbid man.

Deciding to not flatter him with any verbiage, she allowed him to bend to one knee, gently grasping her foot in his hand. With featherlight touches, Adrien toweled the balls of her foot. 

Massages of any kind were one of Marinette's biggest Achilles heel. Responding to his rubbing, she allowed her head to fall back against the ledge wall, her shoulders to unwind, and a silent moan to emit into the air between them.

In the background, drifting about, soft melodies from a nearby restaurant filled the gaps emptied from her sporadic, heavy breathing. Once Marinette's feet were water free, he earnestly worked on her ankles, smoothing over every protruding bone. Higher and higher he dried, stopping once he reached the peak of her lower thigh.

Adrien's throat bobbed, as he swallowed a thick string of saliva down. The stare he gave her was captivating, and placed her in a trace with his dark green eyes. It was as if every other sense Marinette had decided to wither away into thin shreds. Hesitantly, she picked up her hand, cautiously reaching up to Adrien's nape, before withdrawing uneasily. 

Giving into her courage, she hooked a finger into one of his belt loops, tugging him nearer. Marinette wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling the man impossibly closer.

"Thank you," Marinette whispered into his ear, her lips brushing against Adrien's earlobe. Reconnecting their eyes, she shifted to better adjust herself. Moving her finger upwards, she found the slightly raised freckle near his belly button, rubbing it tenderly. With her other hand, Marinette trailed up his naked torso, before finding their resting place, tangling into his wild locks.

Suddenly, Adrien stuck his tongue out of his mouth, and lovingly licked her pink lips, wetting them down. She sucked in a breath, holding it hostage, and refusing to let go. Once her lungs began to burn the the pain of withholding, she sighed, pushing air onto his trembling, craving lips.

Like a bucket of cold water being splashed on her, Marinette pushed him away, clearing her head.

"Adrien I-"

"Save it. You're right. You always are," he said, burrowing his eyes into the concrete sidewalk, appearing dejected. The truth was, he knew he shouldn't have tried to kiss her again. But how could he resist when it was all that consumed the man's entire being? 

"I just can't help myself when I'm this close to you. It's like being intoxicated without the booze," Adrien spoke. Grimacing, he drew into her personal bubble again, and as if to prove his point, captured Marinette's top lip with the two of his.

Adrien hotly slanted his mouth across hers. He grasped her shoulder blades, pushing her toward him to minimize distance. It drove Adrien insane when she froze up, not reciprocating his obvious affection. Desperately, she wanted to give in and melt, but the woman could not. Instead, Marinette allowed him the pleasure of her physical presence. She let him kiss her as passionately as he desired, but did not carry the heart to hurt him furthermore. 

Kissing Adrien back with a false hope would have crushed his heart.

No. It was much better to allow Adrien to release his emotions while fully knowing she could not return them as strongly, and as wholly, as he did.

______

"How many calories are in a single blueberry muffin?" Alya, one of Marinette's close coworkers questioned aloud. "Less than a burger. More than an ice cube. That's all I know," Marinette retorted, smiling slightly. They chortled, responding to the woman's quick wit.

The two were taking a quick break in between spacing over extensive medical journals, analyzing the contents of a communal muffin basket. Both selected their pick, making way back to Marinette's desk space to enjoy their carbo-loading.

"Did you see the recent research on genome mapping? Major headway is being made, girl. Major headway," Alya said, mouth full of pastry.

"I haven't had any time. Adrien's research keeps me plenty busy. Tell me all about it later though."

"Sure. No problem."

"Speaking candidly, what would happen if, hypothetically, a caretaker were to potentially feel a certain way about their patient?" the dark headed woman asked, seeking assurance to her heavily waxing anxiety.

"Automatic suspension. Unpaid. Not to mention a ruined career," a snippity blonde suddenly appeared, squelching Alya's answer into the dusty corners of the cubicle. Marinette's jaw clenched, growing in complete anger. "Who even are you?" she quizzed.

"The name is Chloe. Learn it, remember it, recognize it."

_______________
May 27, 2017