Adrien's next breath came out in a wheeze, and he knew that he needed to pull away, but didn't want to. Not now. Not yet. Frustration prickled at the back of his tongue, the edges of his eyes, and his head swam.

He didn't want to take this a little at a time. This was his memory, his heart, that they were talking about.

These memories and this self belonged to him, and he wanted it back. It didn't matter that he wasn't ready. It didn't matter that it hurt.

She loved him and he couldn't remember how they met. She loved him and he couldn't remember why.

He felt like an imposter in his own skin.

Adrien started to cough, and covered his mouth.