Chapter Text
Marinette sat in a corner, her too skinny arms circled with an oversized shirt. She carefully tucked her knees against her chest and wrapped herself around them. As if making herself smaller could erase herself from the house, from existing.
Dust fell from the ceiling as a thud echoed in the other room. Glass shattering followed after. Marinette flinched, her eyes squeezing shut.
Go away monster.
Heavy footsteps emulated the sound of her beating heart. So loud it pulsed in her ears until it was all around her.
If she was quiet, maybe he would leave her alone. If she became small enough, she could disappear from his view.
A deep, drunken mumbling grew closer. She could already feel the phantom of his hands on her. The bruises from her last beating hadn’t fully healed. She didn’t know if she could stand more injury.
She should have known better than to sneak out on a Friday night. Especially on the day he got paid. When he’d spend all of his money on alcohol and go into a drunken rage.
Marinette had been hungry, something had pissed her foster father, Jack, off to make him go on a beating spree early. And Marinette retreated to her room before she could bear the brunt of his temper.
She had managed to snag an old apple and stuff it in her pocket. But he’d chosen the wrong moment to wake up and wander the house.
To her relief, the noise left. The hum of the old refrigerator accompanied her relieved sigh. She peeked open one eye to check if he was truly gone. An empty kitchen met her view. She picked up a discarded old pen with very little ink and drew a pathetic little flower on the backside of her hand.
The shape was rough, and some lines were missing where the ink had run out. The light flickered as soon as she finished drawing the last leaf. It was off for a second then returned.
In the doorway stood the large and threatening figure in the doorway. “What’s that there?” he slurred.
Marinette dropped the pen as if she’d been burned. She braced herself for impact, her arms moving to cover her head. She tried to hide the way her body shook, but fear won. It always did.
“Trying to call for help?” he sneered, sobering a little. His movements were still sloppy, his steps still thunderous. He gripped her wrist harshly, pulling her up on shaky feet. He slammed her against the wall. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care for you. He will never be happy with someone as pathetic as you.”
Marinette bit down her cries of pain. Any reaction warranted worse punishments. A whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it.
“Shut up!” he smacked her on the upside of her head. “I can give you a reason to cry.”
Marinette swallowed against her dry throat.
Deciding he was bored with her, he tossed her to the ground and lumbered to the living room. She heard the exact moment he collapsed on the couch.
Marinette looked at the flower drawn on her hand and noticed a new one next to it. The pen lines were much clearer than hers, so was the shape. She hid the new flower with her sleeve, for fear of him seeing it.
Her soulmate had seen her flower and sent her one in return. He got her message, her cry for companionship and had responded. The gesture sent something warm bloom through her chest and worked its way through her body.
In a world full of darkness and despair, she had reason to hope.