To Heart's Content

TABLEspoon

"You allowed this fishy man to look at your breasts, Marinette?"

Sighing and digging her face deeper into the pillow that previously sat on her messy bed, Marinette grew annoyed. She had resented telling Alya how it was she wound up in the hospital initially. The young woman had quickly become fond of Doctor Agreste, but not in a romantic sense at all. He dazzled her with the qualities of his work. Sharing a few gross stories and snacking on dehydrated apple slices had quickly become their schtick during the two short days she was positively bed written. Marinette was kind of curious as to why he hadn't been called into surgery the whole time.

"No Alya. I wasn't breathing and Adrien was there to render aid and I-"

"Marinette, he could have easily taken advantage of you. Who's to say he was carrying you to the hospital? He could have walked you to a warehouse and hacked you into eight pieces. You just can't be so naturally trusting in this city, Marinette. You just can't," she lectured, rubbing her best friend's back as she spewed reprimands. "You don't understand Alya. He didn't give off any odd vibes, or I would have screamed for help. He's just a doctor who was helping a patient. And for two days, that's who I was to him, another project to fix."

"You won't see him again?"

"Not on purpose. But if I run into him, that's fair game."

"Marinette-"

Sitting up in her own bed and flinging back several blankets, she made eye contact with Alya. "I'm not a child and I can make decisions on my own. I appreciate all that you've done for me and the advice you've said, but I need sleep right now."

Tensing up, Alya agreed, standing to leave. "I just hope you're smart about this guy, okay Mari?" Nodding, Marinette watched as her best friend exited her apartment. Burying her face back into her pillow, she screamed, releasing stress into the unsuspecting fabric. She hated being mad at Alya, but under this circumstance, she felt as thought she had every right to be.

Several hours had passed and Marinette had barely scavenged enough strength to take a shower, convincing herself that hot water would do her system good. The girl held onto the wall the entire time, not trusting her own balance. When she had finished toweling off, Marinette dressed herself in cute pajamas to make her hope grow a little. Sporting silk shorts, over the knee socks and a cute long and loose crop top, the dark haired girl decided to chef up some soup to cure her hunger.

As the stock simmered, her mind ran to a certain blonde who was no doubtably working himself half to death. Wanting to thank him, she made a mental note to bake some cookies for Adrien. To her, he seemed like a boring oatmeal raisin type of guy. Or maybe sugar cookie? Making an executive decision, she would make a dozen of each.

Before she gathered her ingredients, the young woman blasted Christmas music, even though it was only November. There was something about baking and the holiday season that made Marinette feel okay again. She had yet to get a really good night of rest since she left the hospital and was on her own. Tossing and turning, hot milk and warm baths, nothing seemed to put the blue eyes girl to slumber. It wasn't something to totally concern herself with however. She'd be just fine.

Focusing her futile energy on scooping dough into perfect balls, Marinette hummed along with the music. After placing the cookies in the oven and setting a timer, she decided to get dressed in actual clothing and make some errands. Her apartment was running short on most supplies and besides, she wanted to see Adrien again. Ignoring Alya's protests, knowing that he wasn't all bad. Okay, maybe a little, but the power of influence could work in her favor.

She mainly wanted to hear more about the wackiest cases he had come across. It served as inspiration on a few of her latest pieces. The young artist needed more quality work before showcasing them in her new studio space. Speaking of which, she needed to check up on the property, making a mental note to swing by sometime this week.

Once the cookies were rightfully placed in the oven, Marinette set the timer before heading to her bedroom, seeking a change of clothes. It was a process, finding the right garments to wear. This was going to be the first time he saw her in her normal attire, not half naked or in a ratty hospital gown. Wanting to set the perfect first impression, Marinette settled on brown boots, black tights, a long sleeved pink dress that flowed around her waist and thighs, finally adding her winter coat as a topper. She felt pretty swirling around her room, allowing her floaty dress to billow out softly. Languidly, Marinette rolled on a sweet perfume for good measure.

Deciding that makeup was somewhat necessary, she applied the concealments with a light hand, hearing the oven timer ding in the distance. Marching back to the kitchen, the blue eyed girl let the baked goods cool down before wrapping them in a pretty box and tying a yellow ribbon around it for presentation. She was thanking a person who had quickly become a dear friend. He had saved her life after all, he deserved more than measly cookies, but it was the best she had at the moment.

The rain had let up for the day, news channels announced the potential downpour percentages, making it certain to storm the following day. For now, she decided against grabbing her umbrella as she hurriedly skipped out of the door, locking her home up. The hustle and bustle of the city never ceased to amaze the dark haired young lady, her mind getting caught up in how busy everyone appeared. Gone were the individuals who moved slowly, everyone had a purpose for getting to their destination. And she loved it.

Forgoing any sort of map or direction, Marinette found herself at the hospital, her brain moving a million miles per second. It was all a little hard to explain. Clomping up to the first nurse desk she could lay her eyes on, she spoke up. "Hi! I was wondering where I could find Dr. Agreste?"

A redhead glanced up from the stack of paperwork she was sorting. "I don't know, Hun. Check the neurosurgeon wing. Two lefts and a right." Marinette was slightly taken aback by the semi rotten attitude this woman harbored, but she continued nonetheless.

Her boots clicked against the light green tile, fingers brushing against the pale walls as she propelled herself forward. Noticing she was all alone, save her box of sugary treats, Marinette closed her eyes and spun around, as if she was a princess at a ball. Several times she pivoted, not ending until she crashed into another person. Luckily, her cookies were just fine, only a little dented on the side.

"Can I help you?" a doctor questioned. He was handsome, but not her type based on how pretentious he seemed. He also had too many red pens in his coat pocket. Who even used red pens anymore? "Ah, yes! I'm looking for Dr. Agreste. I just wanted to thank him for his kindness." The brunette doctor snickered. "I have no idea which Dr. Agreste you have in mind, but he's no sweetheart. In fact, he's been fired from this hospital. So, if you're looking for him, he might be in hell, where the devil belongs."

Her mouth popped open, eyes widened and fingers fell numb as she absorbed the new information. The ground underneath her feet dissipated, allowing her to collapse to the ground in a tangled heap. How was such a thing possible? Adrien seemed extremely adequate at his job, maybe a little too much for his own sake. The annoying doctor stepped around her body, continuing on his path.

In a slightly raged outburst, she hunted down the red pen doctor, snagging his arm painful, causing him to yelp. "What is Adrien's address?"

"Okay, that really hurts if you could just-"

"Address. Now."

"Geez, fine! It's 46 Goldfield Road, apartment number 562!"

"Again, but slower," she glowered, grabbing one of his stupid red pens and writing the location down on the back of her hand. "Thank you! Sorry for all the trouble!" she apologized before hurrying away, cookies still clutched in her grasp.

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Wowie wow wow. Thoughts? Feelings? Predictions? Shouts of protest? All are welcomed.

From the gal who has had a rather busy yet productive day,

Bubbles