Work Text:
Marinette's tears hit the paper, where he had written, his last and final letter to her. She knew since the day she realized she was in love with him, that they weren’t meant to be… Yet, it hurt still. It hurt, that he had found another woman, to love. But if it’s what makes him happy…then she’ll be happy for him. She hoped that he finds the happiness in his new lover that he couldn’t find in her. She looked at the flower that he gave her last time. It was all shriveled now, almost dying, much like how she felt. She felt her eyes tear up again. It was too much, too much pain, being here, being alone, in the city of love. She got up, got out her suitcase, and started to pack, she was going to leave. She packed only the few necessities she had. She wiped her eyes, with her sleeve, and grabbed her keys. She looked around the room one last time. Her eyes stopped at the flower. Marinette then put down her suitcase, walked over to the vase and grabbed the flower. She grabbed her journal, and put what remained of the flower in between the pages. She then opened the door and left. She got onto the subway. A few minutes later, she sat down at her seat, on the airplane. Watching the Parisian sunset from the window, wondering if she’ll ever be able to love again. After all, the love she had given him. A few were shedded as she thought about it, she knew that if she will, there will never be another man, who could replace him.