Bullied (A Miraculous Fanfiction)

Chapter 8

Marinette's POV

"I asked you to stay here," he stated, eyes blank.

He looked so calm, so nonchalant after that. It hurt me to see anybody hurt, and for some reason seeing him hurt was worse. I knew the pain, and I had prayed that nobody had to go through what I had to on a daily basis.

"I-I'm sorry," I wiped my tears.

He was trying to keep me out of his business. To be honest, I couldn't blame him for that. I had wanted to keep everybody out of the mess. I didn't need anybody to know or worry.

He sighed, "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh with you."

"N-no, I should have stayed h-here like you had a-asked," I looked down at his bedroom floor, ashamed to look at him.

He, for some reason I can't explain, pulled me into a hug like I had moments earlier. He held me tight to his chest, one hand on the back of my neck and the other on my lower back. He put his head on top of my head the same way a cute couple would. I didn't hesitate, and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"It's alright," he told me as he didn't even start to losen his grip.

"Y-you wanna t-talk?" I asked.

"I mean, we have to talk about you and then maybe we can talk about my. . .situation," he replied.

We started to untangle ourselves. When we were separated, he walked over to his chair by his computers, and I settled on his bed.

"So. . ." I trailed off, wondering what he was going to ask.

"When did it start?" he asked.

I guess he wasn't going to ease into the harder questions.

"I was seven or eight, I think,"

"Why?"

That question made me hesitate. To be honest, I had never really asked that question myself.

"I. . .have no clue," I answered.

"When was the worst time?" he asked.

I took a few second to go through all of the shitty memories I have of my parents. I flipped through event after event like a person flipping through a photo album. I flipped and flipped until I stopped dead on the one page that made me want to crumble into a ball.

"I. . .I was ten," I began to describe, trembling a little. "I decided that I'd go to this party at somebody's house because my crush was going to be there. She told me that he. . .he liked me, and they were going to play seven minutes in heaven. She told me that he was going to make sure he got to go in the closet with me. I snuck out of my house, went to the party, but he wasn't there. I still had fun, but it all changed when I got home. My parents were waiting in the front hall. I knew they had both been drinking, and quite heavily. T-they both attacked me, and that wasn't too new. But then, my mom just. . .just held me down. She pinned me to the ground, and I was. . .too weak to escape. My father broke one of the beer bottles, and he. . .he. . .cut my arms and my legs. He even cut my cheek," I pointed to the small fading scar on my cheek. "So, I guess, that had to be the worst one."

His eyes grew softer, and I realized that he actually may have been easing into the harder questions.

"H-have you ever tried to hurt yourself because of anybody," he faltered at the end, and I knew this would be hard for him to hear.

"No," I lied.

"What did you do?" he asked.

Shit, he saw through my lie.

I sighed, realizing he wouldn't let me lie to him, "I used to cut, but that was when I was eleven."

"Anything else?"

"I tried to hang myself one time, but a neighbor saw me through the window, and called an ambulance," I spilled my guts.

"Why?" he asked like I knew.

"I don't really know actually," I told him.

"Did I have any reason for that?" he seemed nervous for my answer.

"Well, I started cutting because of my parents I think," I explained. "So I don't think so."

"Now, how do we fix this," he asked, leaning forward in his chair.

I froze. Hell no. He can't. . .he won't be able to.

"I. . .don't think you can," I stated.

"How come?" he seemed confused.

Nathaniel.

"Somebody once tried to help, but...it didn't turn out too well," I tried to explain.

"How did it not work out?" Adrien asked the question I was dreading.

"He. . .was. . .killed," I started. "My parents hired some man, and he just shot him."

"Alright, so I can't help out just yet," Adrien groaned.

Adrien had a look on his face like he was thinking. I looked at the clock on the wall to try and distract myself. 7:59. One minute until curfew. Fear surged through me.

"I have to go!" I panicked.

I stood up and started toward the door. Adrien jumped in front of me, and blocked the way before I could leave.

"I can't help get you completely out of your parents lives, but I sure as hell am not going to let you go home to that," he stated.

"What am I supposed to do then?" I asked, trying to not have a panic attack.

"You can stay here," he smiled.

I was stressed, and his statement calmed me down a significant amount. I was troubled with my feelings for Adrien and the problems with my parents at home. As he blocked the door, he blocked out all of my problems.

"You sure?" I asked, biting my lip.

"Positive," he smiled.

THIS CHAPTER SUCKS!! I am kinda disappointed in myself because I low key hate this chapter. Hope y'all enjoyed tho.