I Fall Still, Falling Apart. (Miraculous Ladybug AU)

•4• écriter, ton coeur.

Waking up, Alexandre, also known as the ladybug hero of Paris, did not want to go to school. That was a regular feeling for him though, he noticed as he shielded his eyes from the intense daylight streaming through the shutters of his window. Lying in bed, trying to ignore the responsibilities of the day.

Alexandre got out of bed after a while to avoid the wrath of his mother barging into his room. He luckily had an outfit in mind, slipping it on and sliding through his routine like an automatic machine.

Only to get halfway through brushing his teeth to his father calling him. Trying not to groan, a mouth full of toothpaste, he rinsed his mouth and hesitantly answered the call. His father sounded enthusiastic. "Hey, you're up! How's the school going?"
'Great.' Alexandre thought. He was glad that he was finally making the effort to call once in a while, but his father sounding like an estranged great aunt that you see at Thanksgiving once a year wasn't something he adored, thank-you-very-much.

Alex fakes a smile to sound amiable, "I'm doing great, I guess. Grade reports don't go out until a few weeks I'll show you then." Rubbing his hand over his face, trying to fight the haze, he numbly listened to his father. "Good! Look, I know you probably got to get to school, and you don't want your old man holding you up, so I'll go now." Alexandre felt a tinge of guilt, was his lack of enthusiasm that obvious?

"Okay. Bye dad, I love you." "Love you too son, have a good day at school." Alexandre pulled away, going to hang up the call. After a few seconds the phone still hadn't hung up, he wanted Alexandre to hang up first. He stared at it for a few seconds, not knowing why he was so hesitant, and he pressed the end call button.

Standing in the bathroom, he continued on his routine. Jules was rather pushy when he didn't have enough time in his routine. Speak of the devil, his younger step-brother was banging on the door. Yay. Brushing his hair quickly, he ignored the pounding of the door. "Alexandre! Hurry up you're going to make me late!"

Rolling his eyes, he didn't bother trying to make him understand (for the 500th time) that his school started later than Alexander's because he went to elementary. The 1st, 2nd, or 3rd time didn't work and the 501 time wouldn't either. Finishing his routine (he may have been going a bit slower than usual but who's counting?), he opened the door to Jules, expecting the push from the younger child and ignoring it.

Rushing downstairs, he bolted past his mother and Louis, the two adults making cereal for his younger siblings. (He wasn't hungry, his mind supplied.) He was halfway out the door before something in his mind made him inexplicably guilty.

Walking back, he went into the kitchen and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Bye mom! Bye guys!" He didn't look at the rest of his family as he left, eager to just get out of there as immediately as possible.

He jammed his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. It was chillier than normal that day in Paris, but he wasn't going to bother with spending money just to be on the bus for 10 minutes tops. He found himself regretting that as another slap of chilly wind buffeted his face.

Walking in silence, he found himself in a repetitive trance- the brush of his shoes across the street as he walked down the sidewalk, the whistling of the wind in his ears, burning his cheeks and chilling the tips of his ears numb. So why did he find pressure building in the back of his eyes? "Tikki," he paused, looking at the kwami who had moved from his pocket to the collar of his hood. "It's not fair. It sounds so selfish but," He stopped, not knowing how to explain what he felt at all, not knowing what he actually felt.

"Never mind. Sorry, Tikki." He stopped looking at the Creation God, half out of embarrassment and half out of the fear that she'd question further.