Identity Reveal (One-Shot)
* Based on the Paris Special *
When the alarm went off in the morning, Adrien groaned and slammed his hand on the clock once, twice, three or four times, until it shut up. The temptation was strong, to throw the damn thing against the wall and carry on sleeping, maybe until the end of the world. But then his dad would get on his case about how important it was to go to school and make friends and blah blah fucking blah.
The thought of suffering through another one of his dad’s sickly lectures was a bigger motivator than the alarm. Already, he was out of the bed, on his feet and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, dragging himself through the motions of getting ready.
Then he remembered. A new day meant he would –
He felt a little more awake after he’d showered – alive enough to put on his armour. The thick, dark jeans. The heavy Doc Martens. His black top, the turtleneck left unfolded, tall enough to hide the blue marks spidering down from his cheek to his chest. The padded, leather jacket covered in silver studs.
Dressed, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror and stared at the mess on his face – the scar. It had spread, evidence of the magic he messed with. There was no explaining it and no turning back, now that they’d gone this far. Nothing left to do but…carry on with what they were doing.
He smeared foundation on his face, then powdered it over – the mask he wore. Then he leaned over the sink so he could get a good view of his eyes, ringing them in black pencil, over and over again, until he looked like a ghost of the boy he used to be. The boy no one saw anymore.
