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It was a quiet Friday night for Paris’s two heroes. They lay sprawled out on Marinette’s bed after a long day at school, just relaxing and enjoying the warmth of each other’s company. They found out quickly after they had started dating a month prior that they didn’t have to be doing much to enjoy being around one another. They lead such stressful and busy lives that often the most intimate and enjoyable moments between them were the quiet ones where neither of them said much at all. Even though they hadn’t began dating until a month ago, they felt as if they had known each other an inordinately long time, which is what happens after 3 years of crime fighting and risking their lives together they supposed. Though despite the fact they had grown very close over the three years of knowing each other, since they had only just revealed their identities rather recently, they were still finding out something new about their partner on the other side of the mask every once in a while. It was nice, being able to get to know each other all over again. In revealing their identities and learning to merge the different sides of themselves, it was almost as if they were getting to meet each other all over again a third time, getting to know one another as the complete person that they were devoid of secrets.
It was this quiet Friday night that Marinette would learn another secret about her precious cat. He lay with his head in her lap, her hand in his hair messing with the soft blond strands and deconstructing the carefully styled look his father liked him to wear. Adrien breathed slowly his eyes closed and a small smile on his lips. She knew if he had been transformed at that moment he would’ve been purring. It was when she picked up his hand and started playing with his spindly piano fingers that she noticed something she hadn’t ever seen before. There, on his arm, where several thin horizontal scars. There was a small collection of them scattered over his wrist and forearm ending about halfway to his elbow. She turned his wrist slightly to get a better view and there they were. There weren’t too many, and most of them were quite faded, she wouldn’t have noticed their presence if she hadn’t been looking at his arm closely.
She wracked her brain for any time she remembered him getting injured on his wrists during their crime fighting, but came up with nothing. It was very rare they got injured during akuma attacks and any injuries they sustained during those times would be healed instantly when it was over by her miraculous ladybug. Injuries fighting non-magical crime were even rarer though they did happen, those were unfortunately permanent and had to be healed normally, but even then she couldn’t think of a single time he had ever sustained injuries like these. Her heart lurched when a terrible thought occurred to her.
When she came out of her musings she noticed that her chaton had gone slightly tense under her. His body just slightly wound with nerves but clearly hoping she wouldn’t notice. He hadn’t moved from his position on her lap at all so she couldn’t quite see his face, but she could tell by the clench of his jaw he was holding his breath. It all worried her and she now knew this wasn’t something she could let slide no matter how badly he seemed not to want to talk about it.
“Chaton,” she breathed softly, tone delicate and patient, “what are these marks on your wrist?” She swept his hair behind his ear gently on the side of his face and tried to catch his eye. “I know I don’t remember you getting them when we were in a fight.” He let out a resigned sigh and reluctantly sat up off her lap, taking his wrist back out of from her hands and absent mindedly touching it with his other hand.
“I didn’t get them from a fight.” He mumbled, his eyes looking somewhere to her left instead of meeting her gaze.
“Chaton, please don’t tell me those are what I think they are.” He shot her a heartbreaking look of trepidation for a moment before an uneasy smile cracked its way across his face.
“I don’t suppose you’d believe it was plagg’s doing, he can be quite grumpy sometimes you know.” She gave his a serious look and the smile dropped off his face once again.
“Oh Adrien,” she said sadly, taking his wrist gently between her fingers again and brushing them along the scars. “Why would you hurt yourself like this?” Her sad blue eyes pierced through straight to his heart imploring him to help her understand. He sighed again, not being able to hold her intense gaze.
“I’m not sure really.” He started uneasily then paused. She waited patiently for him to find his words. “I guess sometimes, sitting alone in my room I would just get kinda… restless… I felt like sometimes the emptiness would just loom over me and my hands would get sort… itchy?- with the need of something to do with them.” She listened attentively, still stroking the soft skin of the inside of his wrist, knowing that he wasn’t done speaking yet. “I guess sometimes I just wanted like, physical proof maybe. Some sort of reminder that it wasn’t all in my head? Maybe even a part of me just wanted the attention even if I never wanted anyone to see it... Like the fantasy of being pulled out of it by someone, that someone would notice, was just the slightest bit alluring, maybe.” She hummed showing her understanding and continued to run her fingers over his skin soothingly.
“Don’t! Don’t worry though! I realized eventually that this wasn’t something someone could swoop in and save me from. I stopped doing it ages ago, honest!” He met her eyes this time, desperation to avoid her inevitable worry over him shining in their green depths.
“How long ago was the last time you did it Adrien?” Her tone was gentle but with an insistency behind the words. She needed to know the answer to this question.
“Three… Three months ago…” he replied, and her eyes creased with concern again. “But that was only a mistake I promise! I stopped doing it regularly a long time ago but once in a while I just… have a moment of weakness I guess.” He turned his eyes away from her again, guilt at his admission clouding them.
“Oh kitty, oh my chaton, I don’t think you’re weak at all.”
“You don’t?”
“No, of course not!” She said and took his head to rest it in the crook of her neck and cradled it with her hand. “I think you’re extremely brave my kitty. It takes a lot of courage to overcome something like that and you’re doing amazing all on your own. But please, you don’t have to do it all alone. You gave me a bit of a scare tonight, knowing this had been going on all this time and I had no clue, not being able to do a thing to help you. I want you to be safe, and I know you won’t always be happy but I want to be there for you at those times too. Please don’t keep this to yourself anymore.” He shivered slightly at her words brought his arms up to hold her as she cradled him. She felt the sleeve of her shirt become just a bit damp, so she carded her hands through his hair soothingly.
“If you ever feel like this ever again I want you to call me right away, no matter how late at night it is. And in the morning we can look up methods to help you deal with these kinds of impulses together ok?” He nodded slightly into her shoulder. She hesitated a second, not wanting to voice the next thought in her head, but ultimately decided it needed to be said. “And I know you don’t want to hear this chaton but… I think we should tell your father.”
“No!” He yelped in a panic, jerking his head suddenly away from her shoulder. “Please don’t tell my father!” his eyes were wide and anxious. She looked back at him in worry, and realized that maybe he was not the optimal person to confide in with this.
“Shh shh, it’s okay chaton, we don’t have to tell your father!” He relaxed slightly at this, some of the tension draining out of his taunt features. “But if it continues to happen, I think we need to find an adult that we trust with this to tell. As much as I want to be able to I can’t possibly be able to be there for you all the time, and I’m only 16, I’m not equipped to help you in the way you need kitty.”
“Yeah, that’s fair” he nodded, “if I need to I’ll find an adult I trust to tell.”
“And I’ll be there right with you silly kitty! You won’t have to do it alone from now on.” He looked up at her, a genuine smile spreading across his face for the first time since she had noticed the scars, his eyes shining with moisture again.
“Thank you My Lady.”
“of course chaton.” She replied. She smiled, a new sense of gratitude at getting the chance to be blessed with his sunny smile filling her heart.
And they laid down together, just holding each other and unwinding in the ease of each other’s company. Marinette cradled Adrien’s hand the whole time, kissing his wrist chastely once before she had a chance to drift off, thinking he had already fallen asleep.
“Goodnight My lady.” He whispered in response, a smile evident in his voice. She blushed and buried her face in the crook of his neck.
“Goodnight my kitty.” She mumbled back into his hair, and soon they drifted into a peaceful undisturbed sleep.