Viscous Cycle

• Not In The Mood •

She understood how he operated. Adrien was simple. He planned to, at some point, woo her into his loving arms. All until Marinette stomped on his fragile heart. It was a cruel reality he needed to face. To give needed space and distance, they both avoided the other. For the next few days, they gave each other a break. They seemed to get a little unintentionally hot and heavy way too quickly. A slight cleanse would be needed to build immunity to all of the weird situations they constantly found themselves in.

Marinette knew that she needed to make things right with Adrien. She also knew that nothing good could have sprouted itself from cuddling practically naked. Why did she feel compelled to allow him to get closer until they snapped? It was the thing she feared most; breaking his heart.

Confrontation would soon happen, especially with the sheer amount of parties they both wound up at, just like the one raging around her currently. It was a Friday night, and Marinette was hunting for any and all distraction. Decked out in her usual monotonous black, Marinette sat herself down on a dingy, thrift store sofa in the middle of some college guy's house. It was the fateful hour in which everyone around her was either tipsy, or about to be.

Being the abnormal person she was, she was sitting pretty with a can of fizzy orange soda with a protective koozie. Her foot had slipped out of her heeled wedges, toes digging into the area rug below. Regret of showing her face at such a place washed over her being. Mari was in no condition to be put in public. All of the contemplations had taken its toll on her.

The weight of stress from Adrien and peer pressures that had been evident at that moment caused her to crack. She screwed it all, deciding to grab the first unopened bottle of whatever she could find, and took a gigantic gulp. The sting of fermentation clawed at her sensitive throat. For the first time in nearly two whole years, Marinette indulged in her first taste of alcohol. The memory of every other sip of the stuff clouded her senses faster than normal.

She used to be quite the heavy drinker, once needing a whole slew of liquor to slow her down. Now, it only took one and a half shots of tequila to taint her judgement. Mari found that the more she took, the more lonely she felt.

She could call Alya, but she would only bring a bucket of sympathy with her. Marinette would need to explain the entire sob story of the argument between Adrien and her to get to how she thought that beer was necessary. This was even more prevalent as the dark haired girl always made a big stink about her choice to steer clear of alcohol and how she quit cold turkey.

At some point, she surmised that she had been involved in some kind of form of Truth or Dare. She drew the conclusion that she must have been forced to kissing every single guy in attendance. Stumbling from one guy to the next, lip locking and tongue tagging, Mari found herself caught on one guy. He had blonde hair. Maybe that's why she got so attached to him.

The dude pushed her against the wall, driving their bodies closer. His hands wondered around, feeling her clothed curves. Fingers wound in blonde tufts, toes curling with anticipation of where this could go. Was she ready to go all the way with Adrien if the opportunity arose on a silver platter?

In her tainted mind, she was using her lips to physically apologize to Adrien. She felt next to no spark or pleasure, but she felt as though she deserved that much for all of the crummy events she casted onto his life. If "Adrien" was happy, she could be too.

"What the hell, Mari?"

Breaking the heated kiss, she looked past the random blonde guy's shoulder to peer at another blurry guy with light hair with green eyes. He seemed to have the voice of Adrien. How was that possible if she was kissing him? Confused, she glanced back at the person who was admonishing her mouth. She was disgusted when she saw that the guy wasn't even near attractive.

It was Adrien that made her stop their make out session. She had been kissing the wrong person the whole time. Finding this predicament apparently hilarious, Mari doubled over in absolute hysterics. Pushing away the intoxicated dude that was kissing Marinette, Adrien furrowed a brow and crossed his arms. It was clear that she had been drinking. As to why, he was bound to find out.

She was still laughing when he gripped her wrist and started to lead her somewhere. "Why does your hair look so fluffy?" she asked, genuinely inspecting his cotton candy like locks. "Not in the mood, Mari," he growled. Her cutesy attitude was making him even angrier. How could she do this to herself again?

The two came to an empty bathroom. Marinette plopped tiredly on the closed toilet seat, Adrien leaned on the wood of the shut door. Staring at the other, no one dared to move. The moment was slightly sobering for the girl, taking his hardened glare seriously. Her fingers found a chip in the side of the toilet bowl, tracing the indenture.

"Scowling gives you premature wrinkles, ya know," she slurred, still under an influence. "Since when were you into science and anatomy?" he asked, humoring her slightly.

"Since I stopped talking to you in fourth grade. That's when. Yep, yep. It was then," said Mari. Adrien sighed, not knowing what to do with her. He needed to have a conversation, one in depth, and he could do no such thing with her being as drunk as she was. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Adrien reluctantly wrapped his arm around her waist, helping her stand to her feet.

Needing to get her out of the insane and influencing environment, he lead her out of the bathroom, and eventually, to the front door. Carrying her in a piggy back style, Mari fell asleep. He was taking her sorry butt to his house, not wanting to return a drunken girl.

Pulling out her phone from her purse, he dialed Tom Dupain. He had informed Marinette's dad that she wasn't feeling all too well, and that his house was a shorter walk. Marinette's father put up a little bit of resistance, but agreed once he knew for a fact that his daughter was going to be taken care of by a person she's known since before she could read.

Adrien trudged on, slowed by the extra weight on his back. He was still upset over the words spoken the other day, and needed to wait until both parties were cognizant before hashing it all out. Finally reaching his doorstep, Adrien unlocked it, still holding her securely until he came to his bedroom. He sat Marinette down on his quilted bed, as she instantly curled up to his fluffy body pillow. Once she settled, he slipped her shoes off and sat them down on the ground next to her. Assuming his parents were asleep, he slowly creeped back down the spiraled stairs to collect headache medication, a glass of chilled water and a granola bar, just to be safe. Pausing, Adrien gave off a soft smirk into the darkness. Even when she didn't mean to, she still ended up seeking his help anyhow. And he couldn't find it in him to resist.

When he returned to his room, the bed was empty. Marinette's shoes were still there, and his stupidly unlocked window was open, allowing leaves to soar inside.

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Bubbles❤️