To Heart's Content

BLUEbell

"Did you sell everything?"

Adrien shrugged with a nonchalant air about him. "Not the super important stuff."

Marinette was absolutely floored, and it wasn't because practically all that was left of Adrien's apartment was the naked flooring itself. "I don't understand," she whispered, folding her arms into themselves timidly. Her big blue eyes were concerned, Adrien could decipher that much.

"You needed the money more than I ever could. It's that simple."

"It's that simple? It's that simple?! Adrien freaking Agreste you're the biggest dummy I've ever met!" she yelled, rapidly losing her wits. Her pale arms were extended stiffly out on either side of her body.

Adrien smiled.

"So this is funny to you?" Marinette countered, confused by his reason to smirk. He shook his head, as if he was humored by her words. "I'm just happy to see you again, Twizzler," Adrien said, sounding nearly breathless with each glittering syllable.

She huffed, ready to deny the pink blush that kissed her puffed cheeks. Sure, it was flattering that his life was dumped upside-down since her removal from his life, but this was dang near insane. It was crazy, and scary, how much the blonde cared about her. He was literally willing to go without many luxuries just so her business would look nice.

It felt really good at the same time.

"Ahem.. I'm just gonna... go. Call me if you need me," Alya said, ducking out of the bare apartment. Adrien was grateful for the alone time. 

"I'll head out with you," Marinette spoke with bated breath, anxious to squirm out of his line of sight. There was much to think about, and having Adrien present only made brash hormonal ideals plague her crowded head. 

The girl couldn't hash anything out with the hunky hunk himself. Despite the lack of hygiene, he was still a Greek god in his own rights. 

It was incredibly unfair. 

"No! Marinette, please wait. I need to talk to you, please. It's urgent," he projected, willing to do anything to get her to stick around for a little while longer. 

Marinette was quite hesitant at first, the entire situation making her stressed out. She was certain that she could feel the grey hair on her head spreading throughout her suddenly itchy scalp. As if Alya could sense her hesitation, she promptly took her leave, wordlessly pushing Marinette to stay longer. She agreed with her best friend.

"So, I guess you're staying?"

"That's the consensus."

"... Would you like anything to drink?"

"Wine. Red. In my favorite glass, if that's okay."

Adrien paused. His frame seized up, shoulders scrunching and narrowing. "I sold all of my dish ware too," he implied, scratching the back of his blushing neck. 

Huh. Cute.

"That's fine, I'm good with throwing it back like broke hooligans," she said, moving to make herself comfortable on the chilly floor. To make it slightly more comfortable, she slid off her jacket and sat on top of the cushy fabric, almost like a makeshift couch cushion. 

Something feasted at her gut, making her feel jittery. She prayed that the alcohol would calm her quaking emotions. If she was going to get through this level headed, there was no way Marinette could do so while perfectly sober. 

Hearing the soft padding of his white socks against the floor, she turned over her shoulder. He froze, drinking in her appearance. She evidently wasn't going to make this easy on him.