Chapter Text
Gabriel and Emilie Agreste were known across Paris as the greatest power couple in Europe. Gabriel was a powerful and talented fashion designer taking Europe and soon the world by storm. His designs were found in the every home of elite families across the continent.
Emily Graham De Vanilly Agreste, was not only the wife of Gabriel, but a famous actress in her own right. She was talented and highly sought for the largest, most popular productions.
In the light of stardom, the world could see the love and devotion the two held for one another. Both Mr. and Mrs. Agreste were not only rich and famous but also beautiful as well. Everyone envied them, wanted to be them, or at least like them. The world watched their lives as they grew together, their fame and fortune and their family.
A pregnant Emilie Agreste was the talk of the media. What a blessed child to have Emilie and Gabriel as parents. A child who would never want for anything and with genetics that could only produce a god-like appearance. The child was highly expected to be just as beautiful, talented, and blessed as his parents. He would eventually become the next big thing.
Everyone knew little Adrien Agreste would live a perfect life. Though what the world saw on the outside, wasn’t exactly the same inside. If only the mansion’s walls could talk.
________________________________________
“Gabriel! Don’t you touch me! You are the reason why we lost our little Felix.”
“You bitch! How can you blame me?" A slap could be heard even through the solid wood doors of Gabriel Agreste’s office. A high-pitched whimper, followed the sound.
"You may be a famous actress, Emilie, but you are my wife. You are my property! You cannot be seen with that other man, even for a movie role! I forbid it!”
_______________________________________
A small blonde boy with bright green eyes, poked his head around the corner of his room, listening to another screaming match between his parents. He was eight now and this was a weekly occurrence in his household. His mother and father always fighting in his father’s office and every time his mother would mention his little brother. The little brother he never had, because he had died before he was born.
Adrien remembered that day three years ago, like it was yesterday. His mother and father locked in their bedroom. The angry yells coming from his mother’s higher pitched voice and matched in volume as his father gave it right back. He remembered sitting outside the door with tears in his eyes, because he couldn’t get in to make them stop.
He remembered it all. He remembered the loud thud from the behind the door and his father’s hurried whispers of no. He remembered the door swinging open and his father rushing out of the room with his mother unconscious in his arms. His father yelling for him to go to his room, that his mother had tripped and fallen, hitting her head that she needed to go to the hospital. That his bodyguard would stay with him while they were gone.
He remembered when his mother came home, her big belly now flat. The tears in her eyes as she hugged him tightly explaining that his little brother would not be coming home anymore. He remembered the funeral and the tiny coffin that had been placed in the ground.
Now he could hear the argument again, just like before, just like last week, and then the screaming stopped. His father exited them room, running his hand through his hair. His shirt smeared with something red.
“Father…” he whispered. Gabriel lifted his head to see his son.
“Adrien, go to your room, there is nothing to see." The man looked down at his usually crisp white shirt now covered in red. "I broke my red marker and it splattered onto my shirt. I need to find Natalie to have her clean it,” the designer mumbled under his breath.
“Where is mother, father?” Adrien questioned, unmoving from his spot.
“She is laying down. She said her head was hurting. Do not bother her. Now go.” Gabriel shooed his son back to his room.
That night Emilie Agreste never came to dinner or to tell her son goodnight. Adrien was awoken the next day by his father, sitting on his bed, a forlorn look across his features.
“Adrien, we need to talk.” Sitting up Adrien nodded, saying, “yes, father.” Grabbing his son’s hand, Gabriel looked into his eyes. The same green eyes of his mother. He saw his golden blonde hair that matched hers as well. A tear running down his cheek as he structured his thoughts.
“Adrien, your mother… she… she is no longer with us, son.”
The man broke down, sobbing as he pulled the little boy into his arms. Tears started to form in Adrien’s eyes as he asked, “what do you mean, father. She was just here yesterday.”
Gabriel squeezed the boy tighter, “the headache son, it was more than we anticipated, your mother she, she never woke up. She is dead, Adrien. She isn’t coming back home this time.
______________________________________
Adrien loved his parents, and he knew they loved each other too. Even with the problems and hardships they encountered. They always came back together because of how much they loved one another. He had seen it in their eyes. He had seen it in so many ways.
He had seen it in the way his father kissed his mother, pulling her into him, pressing their lips and bodies together for everyone to see. The way they smiled while they were out on the town, his hand always in hers. He just knew that no one loved like his parents, everyone said so. It was how he never let her leave his sight to make sure she was always safe. How he always paid for everything, his mother never worried for money. How he designed all of her clothes, to make sure she always looked conservative but beautiful. It was why he hired a chef to cook healthy meals to help her maintain a healthy body. How his father would carry his mother to their room and put her to bed after a fight. He could definitely tell how deep his love was for her, how pure, and everlasting, when he would hear his father screaming his mother’s name as he wrestled naked with her in their bed.
Though even with all the love Adrien witnessed between his parents, it hadn’t been enough. His mother still left his father. Still left him. It was in that moment, with his father crying on his bed that he knew. He knew that when he found love, he would never let it go. He wanted what his parents had... but he would be better than his father. He would do anything and everything to keep her and make her stay. He would never let her go and he would definitely love her unconditionally whether she liked it or not.