The Night She Fell In Love Again

-18-

Adrien ran.

As far away as he could.

Ran away from his father.

Ran away from his family problems.

He'd deal with them later, instead he would focus on getting to Marinette.

His lungs started burning as he ran to the bakery.

He started heaving. It was getting harder for Adrien to breathe.

He picked up his breath, breathing faster, trying his hardest to breathe in air and breathe out.

Breathe in...Breathe out.

Adrien had to keep telling himself to breathe.

Adrien could see the bakery from where he stood. He started to cut through the park, sprinting as fast as he could.

His legs gave up. Crumbling beneath him, falling to the ground before he could catch himself.

He was just so tried.

Of his father. And of himself. He was emotionally and physically drained.

Adrien's eyes fluttered closed, his body laying down on a near by bench.

He fell asleep.

And in the park of all places.

He could have made it to Marinette.

But he just couldn't.

——————

Of course Gabriel was upset.

His son yelled at him. He'd never done that before.

Called him Gabriel, not father.

And that hit him like a knife stabbing over and over again to already open wound between them.

Gabriel finally unfroze from the middle of the doorway, walking to his podium in front of the painting of Emilie.

His face fell.

He couldn't break - Not here - not now.

Instead he would stay strong.

For Adrien.

And Emilie.

Instead, he would focus on his plan, - getting his wife back -

But first, he needed to at least try something.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, opening it and going onto his call log.

He scrolled down to Adrien's number.

Gabriel shakily pressed the call button, pulling the phone up to his ear.

The line rang.

Twice.

Three times.

A fourth time.

"This is Adrien's voicemail, please leave a message after the beep."

Beep.

Gabriel hung up, placing the phone in front of him, worriedly.

It was useless, Adrien wouldn't pick up.

So he would try again.

He tried and tried for two hours straight, hoping at least one time, the phone would pick up and he would hear his son's voice.