right next to you pt2

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Requested by @Anwesha4346

Wasn't expecting this one to have a part two, but here we are. I hope you enjoy it!

After months of being proclaimed brain-dead, Marinette miraculously wakes up from a coma, having no recollection of what has happened. Thankfully, Adrien is there to help her take one step at a time in regaining all of her memories.

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Marinette's room was pitch black when he entered, not even the curtains on the window open to allow the moonlight to shine in. Adrien groaned tiredly, running a hand down his face. His muscles ached, almost as if pleading with him to take a break, and the black circles under his eyes only furthered that plead. He was unmistakably exhausted. And not just from fighting to keep Marinette alive, but from his long and extended trip to the states upon his father's demand.

He really hadn't wanted to leave, especially not when Marinette had started responding to his touch, gently squeezing his hand whenever he said something she liked, or whenever he squeezed hers first. When she'd first done it, he couldn't stop himself from smiling. It gave him even more hope knowing that she was in there still.

As he entered her hospital room now, Adrien opened the curtains to allow the moonlight in. As he knelt at her side, he immediately took her hand in his again and gently squeezed it.

"I'm sorry Marinette," he said, feeling ashamed himself. "I'm sorry for leaving for so long. I wish I could've stayed. But I didn't have a choice. I had to go with my father. But I'm back now. I'm here. And I'm not leaving you alone again."

He traced her fingers gently over her own, silently wishing that she would open her eyes again for him. The last time Adrien saw her beautiful blue-bell eyes, they were stricken with fear, the day they both were caught up in a terrible car accident.

Marinette had been the one driving. He'd been in the passenger's seat. A car that decided to run the light slammed right into Marinette's side.

And since then, she hadn't opened her eyes.

"Adrien, it's late. Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

The blonde turned to the sound of the voice, finding his best friend, Nino, leaned against the doorframe.

"No, it can't." The blonde said emotionlessly, averting his eyes from his friend and focusing on Marinette's limp, pale hand in his. "This is important."

"I know it is," Nino agreed, his voice sounding soft and concerning. He took a step forward, but still seemed hesitant to enter the room. "I'm not saying it isn't. But I'm tired, you're tired, and we both need some sleep. Don't you think we should hit the sack?"

"I swear on my life she heard me." Adrien said instead, completely ignoring his best friend. This was more important than sleep. Marinette was more important than rest.

Nino sighed heavily, as if he'd given up on persuading his friend to come home. "Are you sure? The doctors say there hasn't been any sign of brain activity."

"I'm positive," But Adrien was certain. Gently, he squeezed her hand, hopefully meeting Nino's eyes as he said, "Just watch. She'll squeeze my hand back."

Nino had an unsure brow raised, but he waited nonetheless. They both waited for what felt like an eternity. But Adrien's smile slowly fell as Marinette's hand remained lifeless in his.

Eventually, after a few minutes, Nino broke the silence with another sigh. "Are you sure you weren't just... imagining it?"

Angrily, Adrien lifted his head to shoot his friend a nasty glare. "No I wasn't! She really did squeeze my hand! More than once, I swear!"

"Adrien—"

"I'm telling the truth, Nino! I wouldn't lie about that!"

"I'm not saying you're lying," Nino raised his hands passively, "But maybe you just need some rest."

Adrien scoffed at that. He turned his gaze away from Nino, allowing his eyes to focus on Marinette's face once more. "You're saying I've gone delusional then." He said, his voice no longer holding any emotion.

"The best of us can, Adrien."

But Adrien wasn't about to give up. He'd gone too far to allow himself to submit to defeat. He knew he wasn't going crazy. Marinette was in there somewhere and he was not about to give up on her.

So, he squeezed her hand again, and looked back up at Nino with raging determination.

"I haven't gone crazy," he said, emotionlessly. "She can hear me, I know it."

Nino sighed again. "Adrien, I know this has been really rough on you—"

"If you try to tell me one more time that I've lost my mind—!"

Adrien cut himself off with a loud gasp as soon as he felt Marinette's hand squeeze his. And it seemed as if she was doing it with all her might too, as if she was trying to tell him to shut up, because that was the tightest he'd ever felt her squeeze him.

But Adrien was too excited to keep his mouth shut. "WOAH hey! Look look!"

Nino moved at lightning speed, joining Adrien's side. The brunette gasped as well the moment he saw Marinette's hand flexing around Adrien's.

When she finally released him, her hand falling slack in his once more, Adrien breathed out: "Did you see that?"

Nino was just as breathless. "Yeah... I did."

"Look!" Adrien exclaimed excitedly again, and then both boys had their attention back on Marinette once again, who had even cracked a smile for them. "She's smiling, oh my god, she's actually smiling!"

"I'll go get the doctor!" Nino stood to his feet in a matter of seconds, a giddy smile plastered on his lips.

Adrien laughed, matching his friend's joyous smile. "I told you I wasn't going crazy!"

Nino had bolted out the door and was already out in the hallway as he shouted, "I'm sorry for not believing you!"

Adrien chuckled at that to himself, his wide smile refusing to leave him as he watched Marinette. Her smile remained prominent on her lips, a clear indication that she could hear him, and that she was happy.

"I love you, Marinette." He told her with pure sincerity. "I'm so lucky to still have you with me, and when you wake up, I can't wait to hear your voice again."

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When Marinette finally woke up, someone was holding her hand.

She figured it was the voice, so she wasn't frightened at all by his touch. She blinked rapidly, trying to get her eyes to adjust to her surroundings. The room she was in was mostly dark, only a stream of welcomed light coming from the full moon, which shone through the window behind slightly opened curtains. Marinette slowly turned her head to the right, her eyes drowsily following their conjoined hands as they travelled up the voice's arm. She quickly found his face in the dark, his body slumped in a chair as he snored quietly. The position had to be severely uncomfortable, and there was no denying that his neck would most likely be hurting later on. But the voice was here. He hadn't left her like he'd promised. And although she couldn't remember the significance he held to her, Marinette was glad to have him right next to her.

Marinette gently squeezed his hand, hoping her movement would wake him. Although he looked peaceful and she'd felt a tad guilty for waking him up, she was alone and confused. She watched as the voice stirred, grunting softly. He yawned, and when he opened his tired eyes, they widened in a matter of seconds as soon as they landed on hers.

When she was asleep, she never pictured the voice as anything. He was merely something that brought her comfort. He had no face. He was considered a void. But as she looked him at him now, Marinette could put a face to the name she'd concocted for him. His hair was golden blonde, his eyes emerald green. His hair, although a hot mess, looked thick and wild. His lips were shaped in an 'o' shape, his eyes still completely focused on her.

She opened her mouth to say something, but felt the words die on her lips.

This boy was absolutely gorgeous.

"Marinette?" Her name left his lips unsurely. He moved to straighten himself upright in his seat, refusing to let go of her hand as he did so. She recognized her own name, so she offered him a soft smile. But she couldn't remember his, even though she felt as if it were right on the tip of her tongue.

She didn't know how to respond, so instead, she simply said, "Hi."

His lips broke out into a crooked smile. "Hi yourself."

Before she could even process his incredibly handsome smile, the blonde surged forward, capturing her in a tight hug. Marinette gasped, his actions catching her by surprise. But as soon as his warmth entirely engulfed her, making her feel comforted and safe like his voice had when she'd been all alone, she found herself melting into his embrace. Her arms came around him shortly afterwards, clutching onto the material of his shirt, and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in deeply. She tried to savor the moment, savor his scent, savor his smile, trying to put together scattered memories to see if she could remember him. But she couldn't. She didn't know who he was.

And that frustrated her so much. So much, that she started crying.

"Hey hey," His voice was always soothing, and his touch even more so. He caressed her back gently, softly running the palm of his hand in circular motions. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

He sounded so soothing, gentle, and caring. The softness in his voice only caused her bottom lip to quiver. She was scared. She was scared that she couldn't remember him; couldn't remember anything really.

"I-I can't remember..." Marinette pulled away, her eyes instantly meeting his. "...who you are..."

The voice sucked in a sharp breath, and almost instantly, she watched as pain flooded his irises. She whimpered in response because she hated that it was her fault. She tried to gently pull away, feeling overwhelmingly guilty, but his arms tightened around her, refusing to let her go.

He was looking down at his lap though, unwilling to meet her eyes. But he still spoke. And when he spoke, his voice no longer sounded comforting. It sounded pained. "It's not your fault that you can't remember."

"But I should! And it's hurting you that I can't—"

"It's not your fault." He repeated, his voice gentle, but overall hurt. Despite his pain, he continued to rub her back. "It was an accident. You... well... we got into a car accident. That's how you ended up in the hospital."

Marinette placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to lookup at her. "And were you hurt?"

He shrugged, slightly looking off to the side—as if he didn't want her to read his eyes. As if he believed she was capable of doing so. "No, at least not physically. My heart shattered into a million pieces though... when I found you unconscious and not responding to my voice."

Marinette tried to picture it—the frightened boy in front of her wide eyed in horror, trying to figure out what had happened, or better yet, why he was conscious and she wasn't. But nothing came to mind. No images of such an event could she recollect.

Everything just seemed fuzzy and black.

"Tell me more about you," She said instead, her voice soft. "What are your favorite things to do?"

He chuckled softly, but there was no humor laced behind it. All she could hear was pain. But he smiled nonetheless—a sacrifice, she realized, that was being made for her. "My favorite things to do, huh?" He pondered the question for a while, until he answered in a somewhat regretful tone. "I guess I would say spending time with you."

"No elaboration?" She asked with a teasing smile.

This time, he actually laughed, genuinely, "Not really. Anything I did with you was the best part of my day." He admitted.

Marinette hummed, genuinely curious about what her relationship had been like with the gorgeous blonde boy in front of her. "How did we meet?"

His smile was soft as he seemed to recollect the memory. "At school." He answered, "You were the first friend I ever made... well, the first girl friend I ever made."

"Oh really?" Marinette giggled, "I guess that means I'm special."

"You are special." The voice nudged her playfully, though he was incredibly gentle as he did so. She watched as he slowly reached out for her hand, and when his fingers tenderly brushed hers, she let him intertwine their fingers. In fact, she even squeezed his hand once they were settled. It was almost as if their hands were the perfect fit for each other, and the feeling of her hand in his felt so incredibly familiar.

But despite that feeling, she still couldn't remember who he was or what they had. As frustrating as it was, she had a feeling she could eventually. And the blonde boy sitting right in front of her; the man who had been at her side through it all and who was currently holding her hand didn't seem like he was going anywhere. With the way he was currently holding her hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over her skin, she believed that he had every intension of helping her remember who he was.

Marinette smiled sweetly at him, her other hand coming to rest against his cheek. He immediately leaned into her touch and closed his eyes, seeming to savor that moment. She moved her thumb up and down along his cheek, trying to reciprocate the feeling of his touch with her own. "What's your name?"

The voice inhaled deeply through his nose, and then he opened his eyes, his troubled emerald irises latching onto her blue-bell ones.

"Adrien." He whispered. "My name is Adrien Agreste."

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I'm so sorry for the long wait... I swear writer's block is absolutely one of the worst things a person can experience. It's the worst feeling ever. But I'm getting through it... one prompt at a time! ;)

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