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sunday, uh, seven
Jan. 19th, 2020 02:29 pmfrom "yo-leven at midnight (liar's dice don't come natural)":
Courage and compassion before all—and if you're low on one, amp up the other. Which is a winning strategy anyway; it's just extra important in Paris. Nobody needs courage against an akuma if compassion means there isn't one.
[…]
So the day Adrien—there is a queue to kill Adrien's father; Mylène is not in it, because she knows her limitations, but she is prepared to swear by all she holds sacred that whoever gets the bastard was with her the whole day—the day Adrien comes back from a spur-of-the-moment photoshoot muttering something vicious about pigeon cordon bleu, Mylène knows to toss him a packet of tissues for the sneezing and runny nose and remind him he can fidget with his ring instead of rubbing his itchy eyes.
When Adrien admits fifteen minutes later that there's more to his bad mood than missing class, caught in the akuma attack or no—even given the akuma attack on Monday that meant he missed his allergy shot, when he mostly gets allergy shots in order to avoid dealing with this twice a week—Ivan has lyrics half drafted for a new song that he cheerfully asks Adrien's opinion on. It's mostly (Mylène knows) just to distract him, but sometimes Adrien does hit on a change of wording that rings to Ivan more as poetic wordplay than as punning for punning's sake.
And ten minutes after that, when Marinette sneaks back in, tear tracks only partly washed off her cheeks, Mylène has another packet of tissues ready.