The Day He Died Inside

Joy That Echoes

     Three hours. He's been sat on the floor for three hours - knuckles locked tightly around that silver ring. His eyes burn. His chest is on fire. Has he been crying? Maybe. He doesn't remember. His mind only remembers her voice. Her tears. Adrien creaks open his palm like an oyster. His ring is now moist with anguished sweat. The joints in his hand spasm and ache. He shouldn't have clenched them for so long. He tries to stand up. "Gah!" Half of his body is asleep and he tumbles back down to the ground. He presses his forehead to the floor. He just stays there, hunched over. His face grows warm.

     An hour later, his face disconnects from the cold surface and he feels the warm blood rush from his head. Blackness clouds his vision and his neck fails to support him. He blinks a few times and the darkness begins to fade way. His eyes remain blurred from tears he didn't realize were there. The ring glistens through his foggy vision. He paws for it and raises it to his fingertip. He pauses. He blinks. He quickly shoves it onto his finger. "Plagg." His voice is barely audible. He inhales a shaky breath. "Claws out!"

     Muscle memory directs his movements. With an elegant sweep of his fingers, the mask materializes across his face. His hand brushes over the top of his head to reveal the ears. He puffs out his chest and opens his arms, feeling the cool leather form around his hands. With a burst of energy, he strikes that familiar pose. The blinding filter begins to fade. For a moment he just stands there, breathing heavily.

     He studies his leather coated hands. Suddenly, his head snaps back up. A mirror. He needs a mirror! Feet scrambling, he rushes towards the bathroom. But in his eager pursuit, his tail finds its way beneath his boot and yanks his butt to the ground. An embarrassing hiccup-type noise escapes him as he falls. "Great job, Chat Noir." A smile escapes his stern facade. He dramatically sprawls out onto the cold tile. He laughs. He laughs so hard he's choking. He grips his stomach and lets his joy echo as far as it will reach. His stomach hurts and tears burn at the corner of his eyes. But he loves it. In this moment, he loves the sound of his own voice. He loves the way he's grasping for air. He loves this feeling of unfiltered foolishness. Nothing else matters right now. This moment is all his and he relishes in it.

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WADDUP FAMALAM

^^^ i h8 myself

Anywhoo, hey everyone! I'm back from my regular hiatus that makes everyone question whether or not I'm alive :D Honestly, though - I'm really going to try to post chapters more regularly from now on. I've seriously appreciated your patience and sweet comments! They really give me the motivation to keep this story going. So, feel free to leave as many comments as you like and I'll try to answer all of them! :3 I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry it's on the shorter side. Oh, that's another thing. The chapters may be shorter from now on in order for me to post them more regularly. Hope that's okay!

- Isabella (: