Viscous Cycle

• Like Hell You Will •

"Whattaya mean I have to get it removed?" Adrien whined like that of a two year old.

"Just that. The ink must have had lead or another type of poison in it to cause such damage."

Adrien sat in a clinic, getting the worst news possible. The tattoo of Marinette's bite mark on his hand was irritatingly infected, so very much so to the point that he couldn't fit a ring he would usually wear onto his finger from the swelling. Everyone around him urged the man to get it checked out. He didn't want to, already knowing why his hand was puffy. Much like the rash child he once, and still, was, Adrien had gotten the tat on a whim, without doing much research. The guy he normally went to was booked for the next month, and the bite imprint was bound to disappear before the end of the night, so he was desperate at the time.

"Sir, I just don't understand. I've had this piece of ink for six years. What could have changed in that amount of time?" Adrien questioned.

"Any factor, really. Heavy stress most likely. Has anything been particularly difficult recently?"

"Oh, so now what? You're my shrink? Try again, Buster," the blonde man argued. The male doctor shrugged.

"So... what now?" Adrien posed, praying for any kind of good news. "Well I have to remove it before the swollen infection reaches too far into your bloodstream."

"Like hell you will. This part of me stays," he spoke firmly. "And then we'll all be singing over your body in a casket because of your stubbornness."

"Sir, I don't think you could possibly understand. My first love bit me here and it's just something I can't part with. This set of perfect teeth marks belongs to the most beautiful girl, and she's not mine any longer. Her name was Mari, and much like my heart, I can't erase any part of her, hard as I try." The man nodded, urging Adrien one last time, with the same outcome and not one mind changed.

Once out of the tattoo parlor, Adrien hit the streets, shoving his hands into his pockets. He had walked the whole way here, not wanting to drag his bike out into the rainy weather. It would have been the peskiest thing to do so. Who wanted to drag a dumb tarp out? Instead, he settled for shloshy sneakers and matted down hair that clung to his forehead. He thought of his friends for the first time in a long time.

Long story short, Nino and Alya were pregnant with a baby girl. The two had tied the knot two years ago. It was a happy occasion for everyone involved. It was also the last time he saw Mari. They had both been maid of honor and the best man, forcing the pair of old lovers to walk down the aisle together. The memory gave Adrien a case of itchiness, recalling how uncomfortable Marinette felt against his hooked arm. He was simply in heaven at the chance to be by her side once again, but only for so long as he took notice of the pain in her beautiful blue eyes.

The blonde man hoped Marinette was doing fine. Last he heard of her, she had recently gone corporate in the business of writing articles. Turns out her many experiences with boys, and later numerous men, would have aided her well in her future career at a possibly high fashion and advice magazine company, all before she moved the ranks and was crowned chief of editing in her department. Woo hoo.

As for him, Adrien was in between jobs as he so carefully liked to word it. His family had died off, a fact he wasn't too sure how to feel about emotionally, leaving him a cushiony inheritance. Trying not to be a stupid brat, he had put majority in savings, only allowing himself to live off of a miniature junk of it. Looking for a new place of employment had been an upward task, with no college degree or built resume, the man was stagnant and screwed. All until he noticed a pinned flyer on a tightly packed bulletin board. Ah yes, with this he could bring redemption upon his burly shoulders.

••••••••

"Hello. I am on a tight schedule, so I promise I won't waste any of your time, if you agree to do the same for me."

There she was. The love of his life was interviewing him for a job. She had yet to make eye contact with the blonde man, instead shuffling papers about and around her messy desk. "Tsk, tsk. You always were a messy one, weren't you?"

At the husky sound of his voice, her bluebell eyes snatched up at his. Anger protruded her facial expression. "Adrien? What in the hell are you doing here?" Marinette glowered. "I believe I'm interviewing for a job. I see you have a spot available," he slid the bright flyer toward her. She heavily sighed.

"Adrien, that job is for a science column. And not just any science, science pertaining to womanly interest. You seem to have none of that except for stalking me. You always were and are now a Creep," she stated, pawing at and rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"I have my first pitch," he breathed, keeping his volume down low. "And what stroke of genius would that be?"

"Simple. The only thing more contagious than yawning is knuckle cracking," he spoke. Rolling her eyes and groaning, she answered him. "Be serious." "I am. I mean, think about it. When it's quiet and someone pops their knuckles, so does everyone else around them. It's a known fact that I'd like to bring to light. If you refuse, I'll find another, more qualified publisher."

"Why are you here, Adrien?"

"I told you. I'm in need of a job and-"

"No. I mean what's your real purpose. I swear if you're lying to me, and the only reason your butt is in that chair right now is to win me back or some other hopeless crap, so help me. You know why we broke up and it was such a long time ago. Now leave before I call security," she barked, her hands closed off and folded promptly to her chest.

Marinette stood up, moving to open the door ajar so he could leave peacefully.

Being normal was never their thing. Maybe it was hers now, but he never defaulted backward. Adrien instead, grasped her wrist with one hand, the other slamming the office door shut. Next, he cornered the dark haired woman, not allowing her to escape from his taunting hold.

"Actually, that's the thing. I don't know why we broke up. You randomly decided to end our relationship without so much as an explanation. Do you know how much you hurt me? And now you want to play the victim? How's that fair to me? And now the tattoo of your bite mark on my hand is infected, Mari. What am I supposed to do now?" he whispered, keeping his emeralds trained on her eyes, brushing their noses together. "Adrien-"

"Save it."

The tip of his nose slid down and stopped at her neck, as he paused to place a few sweet kisses on the skin of her protruding collarbone. She held her breath, trapping air in her lungs. Marinette's hands came to rest in the middle of his torso, gripping the back of his t-shirt, tracing his tattoos over the thin fabric. He continued to kiss upward until he reached the base of her neck on the right side, making sure that he had made the area flourish with attention.

When he began to suck on her skin, she couldn't help but to moan at the familiar sensation. Adrien rested his hands on her hips, pushing them into his own. Once he released his hold on her neck, he straightened himself out, removing his body completely from hers, making his way toward the door.

"Wait!"

He turned to glance back at the woman, unsure of what she could want. His heart sung at the visible hickey that glamoured her neck. "I-If you wanted to, I-I don't know... grab dinner or something, I guess I wouldn't be opposed," Marinette hesitated, keeping her pink and blushing face away from his as she spoke.

"Sheila's at seven?" Adrien posed.

"Will you bring a bottle of juice?"

"I always wondered about pineapple juice."

"Not the best, but from you, I'd take it, Baby."

"Done deal, Princesse."