Chapter Text
Two o’clock.
It was two o’clock in the afternoon and not a word from Marinette.
His phone had pinged once, loudly , in the middle of his study period and Adrien had fumbled it so badly in his desperate scramble to read the message that he had thrown it across the room. To his intense irritation, it had been nothing more than an update from Nathalie about an upcoming photoshoot. He had replied with only a thumbs-up emoji, hoping the amount of petulance he felt came through with his curt response, and settled back into his spiraling anxiety.
Alya’s suggestion that Mari had simply slept through her alarm had held a lot more credence at 8am than at 2pm, and he was nearly out of his mind with worry. It was true that he hadn’t received an akuma alert either, but alerts only went out once someone had spotted Hawkmoth’s minions. His Lady was cunning and clever enough to avoid detection longer than the average akuma, she could be under his thrall right that second while he wasted time pretending to read the same page of his textbook again and again and—
The pencil in his fingers crackled ominously, alerting him to the fact that his hands were slowly curling into fists on his desk. God, he couldn’t take this. As much as he dreaded having to face her, not seeing her had turned out to be so much worse. His stomach had been churning so badly all day he was sure his skin was permanently tinted green, and he hadn’t heard a word that either Alya or Nino had said at lunch. He had to see her before he became the next akuma victim.
After sitting with that thought for a moment Adrien nodded brusquely before gathering his things and rising to his feet in the middle of class. The teacher paused in the middle of her lecture to arch an inquisitive eyebrow at him, but accepted his stammered excuse of a last minute modeling job with an exasperated nod and carried on as he tried to appear casual on his way out the door.
Once he was out the door, however, he dropped all pretense of being unbothered and broke into a run, squinting as he burst through the front doors of the school and into the blinding sunlight but refusing to slow down. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, faster than was warranted by his quick pace, and he tried to force his breath into a steady rhythm. Plagg’s claws pressed gently into his skin through the fabric of his shirt in a silent show of support and he focused as much of his attention as possible on the tiny points of sensation, hoping it would keep his panicked brain from flooding with worst-case scenarios.
(It didn’t, but he appreciated the gesture anyway.)
By the time he reached the Dupain-Cheng bakery he was panting heavily, his hair damp with sweat. Reluctantly, he took a moment to try and pull himself together, ignoring the inquisitive glances of passersby as he leaned heavily against the storefront gasping for breath and roughly shaking his head like a wet cat. The bakery was still standing and was clearly open, which put his mind at ease somewhat. Not much , but enough that he felt he could spare a few minutes to compose himself instead of bursting through the door looking like he was being chased by someone with a machete. Unfortunately, Adrien Agreste was almost as recognizable as Chat Noir in Paris, and before long he became aware that people were staring, so with a quiet sigh he ran a hand through his hair in a halfhearted attempt to look less haggard and slipped inside as a customer opened the door on her way out.
The merry tinkling of the bell above the door made him flinch in anticipation of more curious eyes being turned upon him, but the bakery was now mercifully empty of patrons. There was only Sabine Cheng, beaming up at him from behind the counter. “Adrien!! It’s wonderful to see you, it feels like it’s been ages!” As he blushed deeply and groped for a response, her mouth turned down in a slight frown. “But shouldn’t you be in class? My goodness, you look—Is everything all right?”
Adrien shrank a little under Sabine’s scrutiny, unsure exactly how he “looked” but certain that she, like her daughter, would see right through him if he claimed to be fine. “I-I’m sorry to barge in unannounced, madame ,” he muttered into his chest. “I had a free period and I thought I would stop by and—and check on Marinette. Nobody’s heard from her today and I just…” Worried that something was horribly wrong, he thought, and swallowed hard. “Wanted…to see if she needed anything,” he finished lamely, eyes fixed on the floor.
Sabine fell silent for so long that Adrien finally dared to raise his head, finding her watching him appraisingly, her mouth twisted into a thoughtful expression. Finally she sighed and shook her head. “It’s very good of you to check on her. Between you and I, something is definitely wrong, but I couldn’t tell you what that is. I haven’t seen her since Friday evening, she’s been feeling extremely ill and has scarcely left her room.”
Adrien reeled back as though she’d slapped him. “Y-you—since Friday?”
“She says that her stomach has been bothering her and she doesn’t want her father and I to catch it, but I think there’s more. I don’t believe she slept a wink all weekend, she’s been extremely short-tempered, and she doesn’t appear to have eaten more than a few bites of any of the meals I’ve left on the stairs for her.” Sabine pursed her lips and craned her neck upwards as though she could see her daughter through the multiple floors, missing the way that Adrien’s face had gone slack with dismay. He hastily tried to rearrange his features into a mask of polite concern as she looked back at him, a pained smile on her lips. “You’re welcome to go up. I can’t guarantee that she’ll see you, but it’s worth a try. She could really use a friend like you right now.”
It felt as though all the air was being squeezed from his body as stifling guilt and shame pressed in on him from every side, but he managed to whisper a breathless word of thanks as he scurried past her and up the stairs to their apartment, flapping a listless hand at Tom in a pathetic attempt at a wave as he passed the kitchen. He closed the door separating the bakery from their home carefully, so as not to make a sound, and then allowed his panic to take over again, tripping and stumbling up the steps to Marinette’s room in his haste to reach her. He drew up short when he came face to face with a tray, laden with a wilted looking sandwich, cut fruit and a glass of water, clearly today’s untouched lunch offering.
His stomach clenched and clenched. Three days. Sabine had said that, to the best of her knowledge, Marinette hadn’t eaten or been physically seen in three days. The three days since he had discovered her identity, and the three days that she’d been trying to contact him. Today’s silence, viewed in this new light, was infinitely more terrifying. Something was very wrong, and whatever it was was entirely his fault.
After a moment’s hesitation, during which he briefly entertained the insane notion of transforming before entering her room, Adrien hoisted the tray and balanced it unsteadily in one hand. Steeling himself, he finished the climb to her trap door and tapped on it softly, heart in his throat as he waited for a response.
Nothing.
Swallowing thickly, he knocked again, harder this time. “Marinette?” He waited a few chilling seconds before pounding heavily on the door, the sound just a few decibels short of alarming. “Mari, it’s Adrien. I—we were worried about you at school, so I thought I’d check in, and your mom sent me up. Is everything okay?”
He was met with silence, and his heart tripped over itself as it lurched into a frenzied pace, slamming against his rib cage so hard he was sure it would be visible from the outside. Adrien bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, wondering whether he should just go, but…no. He couldn’t bring himself to leave until he knew she was okay. Voice wavering, he raised his voice and called, “Marinette? Mari, I’m sorry, but you’re really worrying me, so I’m coming in. I hope that’s okay.” And before he could overthink it he had pushed the trap door (which was, mercifully, unlocked) open and clambered up into her attic room, setting the tray on the floor and closing the hatch as quietly as he could.
Adrien’s eyes were scanning the room before he was even inside, and he couldn’t decide whether what he saw made him feel better or worse. There was nothing particularly out of place as far as he could tell. Her desk was a mess, but the kind of ordered chaos he’d come to recognize as uniquely her own, and the room itself seemed tidy enough. But he didn’t see or hear her anywhere in it, a fact that made his breath come in harsh pants as he fought to push down the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him. “M-Marinette?” he gasped, trying not to sound as frightened as he felt.
His pulse thudded so loudly in his ears that the world around him seemed muffled as he turned in frantic circles on the spot, chest aching with the effort it took to breathe when his brain was entirely consumed with fear and self-loathing. His fault, three days, she was gone, where was she, his fault, where was she —
A quiet sniffle from overhead snapped him back to reality and drew his gaze up to her skylight so quickly that his neck protested. He didn’t realize he’d even moved until the muggy summer air hit his face as he hauled himself bodily through the hatch in her ceiling and onto the balcony. “Mari? Marinette, is that you?”
There was a moment of stunned silence, then— “A-Adrien?” He spun with a little cry of relief and spotted her, tucked into the corner against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. She looked frail and gaunt, her voice sounded like she’d swallowed glass, her face was red and blotchy and streaked with tears, and Adrien wanted to punch himself in the face until he broke something.
Instead he approached her slowly, cautiously, as though she might bolt if he made any sudden moves. “Oh Mari,” he whispered, unable to speak any louder as his throat tightened, lowering himself gingerly to his knees in front of her. “What happened ?”
Marinette stared unblinkingly at him from puffy, bloodshot eyes, and for a moment he wasn’t sure she’d even heard him. Then suddenly her face crumpled like an empty soda can and she launched herself at him, burying her face in his shoulder and sobbing so hard that it sent tremors through his entire body.
Adrien froze, his arms sticking out awkwardly on either side of her torso, torn between his overwhelming guilt and his desperate desire to comfort her. He had no right to touch her when he was the cause of her distress, but the way she clung to him suggested that she needed him to. In the end his body made the decision without him, his arms curling around her back tentatively at first, tightening reflexively with every ragged, shuddering cry that ripped from her throat. He had no idea how long he knelt there, cradling her against him, but by the time her cries had finally quieted he was holding her so tightly that his arms ached, his face buried in her hair as he struggled to repress his own tears.
His fault, he thought miserably as he stroked her hair. He’d done this to her. He’d always known that Ladybug wanted to keep her identity a secret, he’d known she would be angry, but he had never anticipated this kind of a reaction. Marinette’s face, when she finally lifted it to look at him, looked absolutely broken, and his heart shattered right along with it.
Was it really so awful that he knew?
“I-I-I’m s-sorry,” she muttered, staring shamefacedly at his chin, unable to quite meet his eyes. “Uh. Whu, what are you…did you need s-something?”
Adrien stared at her for several seconds before finally accepting that he’d heard correctly and that she was asking what he needed. He would have laughed if it hadn’t made him want to throw himself off her balcony. “Mari, no,” he murmured, fighting the urge to crush her to his chest again. “I’m here for you . We—I—-you didn’t show up at school and nobody has heard from you, and I was really worried and your mom said you hadn’t come out of your room in days, and…” He pressed his lips together as he realized she was shrinking into herself more and more with every word out of his mouth, as though he’d been screaming at her. Sighing, he bent until he was able to look directly at her again. “I just want to help. Please, please tell me what’s wrong.”
Her beautiful bluebell eyes filled with fresh tears, but this time she didn’t look away. “I…I’m sick…”
His hand cupped her chin gently, keeping her from turning away. “ Are you?”
The tears began to spill down her rosy cheeks, and her lower lip wobbled. “…no,” she whimpered, sniffling quietly.
Oh he hated himself. “Then what? What happened? What can I do?”
A watery bark of humorless laughter escaped her, and he frowned as she jerked away from him, standing abruptly (if a little unsteadily) and beginning to pace back and forth. “I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do. I…I messed up, Adrien, I messed up in a major way, and I—“ She broke off with choked sound and she pummeled her fists against her forehead in frustration until he leapt to his feet in alarm and grabbed hold of her wrists to stop the blows.
The look in her eyes was pure agony, and it stabbed right through him. “I…I think I’ve lost my best friend, Adrien, and I don’t think I can fix it.”
Adrien blinked rapidly, the gears in his head shifting so rapidly he was sure smoke was wafting from his ears. “You and—and Alya ?” Had he missed something else entirely? “I don’t know what happened between you two, but she was just as worried about you this morning, I don’t think she’s angry at—“
“ No ,” Marinette rasped with such emphasis that he was sure she would have screamed it if her throat hadn’t been so raw. “God, how do I even explain , I…” Her arms strained against his hands, and she fixed him with a pleading expression until he reluctantly released her with a warning glare. She ducked her head in sheepish acknowledgment and began to twist her fingers mindlessly in front of her, seeming to calm a little at the physical distraction. “You…you wouldn’t know them.”
“You might be surprised, Mari. I know a lot of people. Maybe I can help you out here.”
She shook her head dismally, whole body seeming to droop. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” She drew a shuddering breath. “This person…I met him years ago, um, online. We grew so close, and I…I think he may even have been in love with me, once. But it passed, and then…then I met him in real life.” She swallowed thickly. “Only he…he didn’t know it was me. And I didn’t want him to. I was too afraid to tell him, because as myself, I’m just…I’m nothing like the person that he knows, the person I pretend to be. I knew I’d be a, a huge disappointment.”
Adrien’s blood ran cold.
“You…” He could barely get the words out. “You thought he’d be disappointed ?”
Marinette sniffled quietly, twitching her shoulders in a tiny shrug. “I had started to think that…that maybe he wouldn’t be. That m-maybe he really, genuinely liked me as I was. Am . And as I got to know him better, the real him, I started…” Tears were streaming silently down her face again, dripping erratically from her chin as she stared at the balcony beneath their feet, and Adrien couldn’t tear his eyes from them. “I had actually decided I was going to tell him. I had a whole plan, I was going to tell him Friday night, I’d made his favorite cookies and I’d even thought of a really stupid pun to use because h-he loves….But he found out first, by accident, and, and he ran , and—“ She was cut off as quiet sob shook her slender frame and she wrapped her arms around herself.
Adrien hadn’t realized that his jaw had dropped open until he tried to respond, finding his throat and tongue too dry to speak. He closed it with a snap and swallowed convulsively. God . He had almost been right the first time. She was upset about Chat Noir, but she wasn’t angry .
She thought he was angry at her . Disappointed that she was the girl he’d been pining after for years. And she was devastated.
His tongue was like sandpaper. “Mar—“
“No, it’s okay,” she cut him off in a voice that wobbled like she was astride a galloping horse. “I don’t know what I expected. I’d been lying to him for years. Even after I fell in love with him, I kept lying to him. It’s no wonder he ran, I d-don’t blame—”
“You WHAT?!” It was out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he bit his tongue until he tasted copper. Marinette hung her head and nodded miserably, but he barely noticed.
She…Marinette loved him? And she thought he’d turned tail and run the moment he learned her identity. Adrien’s heart twisted completely around in his chest. He knew that fear all too well, and he couldn’t stand the fact that he’d made it her reality. Gritting his teeth, he reached out with trembling hands and cradled her face, tilting her head until their eyes met.
“Marinette,” he rasped, dimly aware of the way his eyes burned. “ Princess . I promise you, he’s not disappointed. How could he be?” He heard her breath catch in her chest at the nickname, but was unable to stop the rest from tumbling out of his mouth. “If anything, he was probably terrified that he had found out something you’d never wanted him to know because he was head over heels in love with you and was sure you’d be furious and never want to see him again and was too much of a coward to stick around and hear you say it, a-and…”
The rest was lost to him as he watched her eyes go impossibly wide, and her trembling lips formed a soundless word that finally sent a tear rolling down his cheek.
Kitty?
Adrien nodded fervently, jaw working as he tried desperately to explain, tell a joke, apologize, anything, but all that came out was a strangled sob and he hung his head, unable to look at her shell shocked expression. He stiffened when he felt her arms come around his shoulders, but then she pulled him into a hug and he was helpless to deny himself the comfort she was offering. He knew he didn’t deserve it and yet he clung to her, trembling, weeping into her shoulder and letting her run soothing fingers through his hair as she held him, shushing him gently even as she cried along with him.
“God, I’m so sorry ,” he gasped into her neck when he could finally get enough breath to produce a proper sound. “Mari, I—“
“Shh, chaton ,” she murmured, absently curling a lock of his golden hair around her finger. “It’s okay. I—“
Adrien’s head snapped up at that, fixing her with an incredulous stare. “Excuse me? It is absolutely, unequivocally not okay. You spent three days thinking I—“ A thought occurred to him and he glowered at her, swiping roughly at his eyes. “God damnit Marinette, into your room. Now.”
She pulled away at that, brows furrowed as though she was trying to decide whether she ought to be put off by his tone, but she obliged. He followed her through the skylight, landing in a crouch next to where she’d fallen in a little heap on her bed. Adrien clambered down the ladder and returned seconds later with the tray he’d carried up from the stairwell, a box of Kleenex from her desk balanced precariously in one corner. “Your maman told me you hadn’t eaten in three days. Is that true?”
Marinette’s red cheeks and the way she stared intently at the duvet as she snagged a tissue and wiped her face was all the answer he needed. Growling, he shoved the tray into her lap, causing her to look up at him in shock. “ Eat , or I’m feeding it to you.”
She shot him an unimpressed look, but when he grabbed the bowl of fruit and waggled it menacingly under her chin she rolled her eyes and grabbed the sandwich, taking a big bite and chewing with a slight grimace. “Eugh, it’s warm.”
He folded his arms and watched her closely, nodding in satisfaction as he saw her swallow. “Should have eaten it earlier then.”
Marinette made a face and stuck out her tongue at him, little flecks of bread spewing from her mouth. “ Oui, maman .”
Adrien glared imperiously down his nose at her. “And don’t you forget it.” As he watched her tear into the meal with a bit more vigor, he softened a little. “Hey Mari?”
She glanced questioningly up at him, her cheeks bulging with sandwich, and he smiled softly. “I’m…I meant it, you know. All of it. I could never be disappointed with you. I only ran because I thought you’d be angry with me. …well,” he amended, “and because I’m an idiot.”
Marinette’s bulbous cheeks turned pink before she finally remembered to swallow, her cerulean eyes fixed on his face. “ All of it?” she whispered, and Adrien felt the tips of his ears heat.
Oh yeah. He…he may have mentioned that he was in love with her. Drawing a deep breath through his nose and squeezing his eyes shut, he nodded shakily. “Did—did you ?”
He heard her squeak, and grinned despite himself at how cute she was. But then he felt warm hands caressing his jaw and his eyes popped open to find her on her knees before him, hovering inches from his face, and his smile disappeared in a flood of nerves. She was so close that he could count every freckle splashed across the bridge of her nose, and she was looking at him as though she was seeing him for the first time.
“I did,” she breathed, and he felt it waft across his lips.
Adrien shivered as his heart stuttered and flipped, desperately fighting the urge to yank her to him and kiss her. “B-b-but…” His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he couldn’t suppress the thrill that coursed through him when he saw her eyes track the motion. “What about…Buttercup?”
Marinette’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and she burst into giggles, pulling away as she facepalmed so hard it was sure to leave a mark. “Oh my god,” she groaned, “we’re both idiots.”
He had barely managed not to whine as the distance between them increased. “Huh?”
She dropped her hand from her face and the smile that played on her lips was the most radiant thing he’d ever seen. “Buttercup was you , Adrien.”
He was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating altogether now. “ What ?” he managed to squeal.
Marinette flushed that pretty pink color again, and she shyly averted her gaze. “Y-yeah,” she muttered, stuttering in a way he now realized he hadn’t heard for a while. “Since your second day of school, actually. At least until I realized my feelings for this sweet, loyal, gorgeous, protective dork who I trusted with my life , and—“
The rest of her confession was lost as Adrien finally lost his battle for control and surged forward, capturing her mouth with his own. She gasped against his lips and then melted into the kiss, snaking her arms around his neck as he rose to his knees and grabbed at her waist, pulling her flush against him. He tilted his head and slanted his lips over hers again and again, coaxing her mouth open until he was able to gently brush his tongue along her own. Marinette moaned quietly, gripping his hair so tightly it was almost painful, and he whimpered and kissed her harder.
She tasted of tears and stale turkey sandwich and he couldn’t get enough of her.
“I love you,” she panted when they finally broke for air, leaning heavily against each other. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Adrien, my kitty, I love you so much. And there’s nobody I’d trust more with my identity.” Her eyes shone with sincerity, and he smiled so wide his cheeks hurt as he nuzzled her gently.
“Marinette,” he whispered reverently. “My princess. My lady. I love you too.” Tears pricked at his eyes again as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, marveling at the way she leaned into his touch. “I’m so glad it’s you.” He kissed her again, gently, just because he could, then pulled away, chuckling.
She wrinkled her nose in confusion, eyes closed and lips still slightly puckered. “What? Come back.”
“I’d love nothing more, princess,” he admitted as he stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. “But if I’m going to kiss you the way I want to, we’ll need to do something about the fact that you haven’t showered or brushed your teeth in three days either.”
The resulting shriek of horror that rebounded off the walls of her room as he fled, cackling, amid a shower of pillows and stuffed animals, was absolutely worth it. He knew she’d make it up to him later.
And a few hours later, after a proper meal and a good cleanse, that’s just what she did.