Heart of Black

Kept Promises

Plop.

The small, four-year-old blue haired girl frowned, reaching for another flat pebble. Finally deciding that she’d found the perfect rock, she tossed it into the pond once again, a look of dismay coming over her face when it only sunk to the bottom once more.

Disheartened, she sat on the muddy ground, not caring very much that the skirt of her dress was getting covered in the earthly filth.

Plop, plop, plop!

She shot her head up, alert. The girl looked surprised when she found herself staring at a pair of legs.

Her eyes continued to travel upwards, and there she could see a boy standing. He looked around her age, and had messy blonde locks with a set of stunning green eyes. She noticed that he was the boy she’d shared a croissant with last time they met.

“You like skipping rocks?”

The girl stood up, brushing down her skirt and letting out an ick when she found her hands covered in mud. She solved it by cleaning her hands off back onto her skirt.

“Yeah...but I’m not really good,” she replied, staring up at him with her bright blue eyes. “You like it too?”

“I do.”

“Can you show me?” she requested, happily clapping her hands and cheering when he nodded in affirmation. She handed him a flat rock that matched her mama’s description of a perfect skipping rock.

He skimmed the water with it, and she watched in awe as it hopped four times before sinking into the pond.

“That was so good!” she cheered, a carefree grin on her face. He smiled, as well.

“Do you have anymore croissants from your mom?” he asked, wanting more of the flaky bread. It had quickly become his favorite food ever since she let him taste it for the first time.

The girl nodded, pigtails bobbing along with her head. She pulled out the pastry from her small backpack that she often carried around.

“Here,” she offered it to him. He took it gratefully, before she began to speak. “You know, I don't think my mama is a good cook after all.”

He frowned, crumbs littering his mouth. “Why?”

Playing with the hem of her dress, she responded, “I saw mama get that from someone else.” She pointed to the croissant he was munching on. “But she tells me she made it. Why do you think mama is lying?”

He seemed to think about this for a moment. “To make you happy?”

“But how?”

“Well, you were happy when I skipped the rock right?” he questioned, knowing what the answer would be.

“Mmhm!” she hummed. The boy chuckled.

“I lied too. I don't like doing it. I just wanted to see you smile.”

-o-

To say she was scared would be the understatement of the century. Marinette was frightened out of her mind. She fell backwards to the ground in midst of her own surprise and clumsiness, aimlessly reaching for the dagger, gasping wildly.

“How sweet of you to help me out,” he chuckled, his husky voice sending unpleasant shivers down her spine. Marinette barely had time to register anything when he lunged at her, pinning her arms and legs to the ground, successfully knocking the dagger out of her hand, sending it flying across the forest floor.