Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Thinking of You Pt. 3 

She threw together a capelet. It was a deep blue-black with gold zippers and red lining inside. It was simple enough to make in a day, after a brief stop at the fabric store after school. Thank god Chat Noir did not pay her a visit or he’d admonish her cowardice. Marinette had promised she’d wear the dress, but she didn’t say anything about wearing something over it… 

Deep down, she knew it was a flimsy loophole. He’d still throw a hissy fit over not having the courage to talk to Adrien about her mistake. 

In her defense, she just couldn’t get around to it. After Adrien had swooped her up in his arms and thanked her for his coat yesterday morning, she was completely frazzled. How often does one literally get swept off their feet by their biggest crush? In that glorious moment she had no idea how to tell him, “Oh hey, I accidentally made us a couple’s outfit, obviously because I fantasize about us being together every waking moment, and I’m going to debut my dress at your birthday party as if that didn’t make a statement!” It didn’t happen, nor did a more sane sounding explanation. Moreover, it couldn’t happen after Adrien brought so much attention to her. 

Her face burned remembering how proudly Adrien showed off all the details of his new coat. He gushed about the bold stitches, the well-placed and convenient pockets, and the overall feel and fit. She had been blushing and stammering all day from his compliments. How could she bring it up after all that spotlight? Now that the whole class had basically memorized the coat, it’d be mortifying to come out in her dress! They’d put the pieces together in no time. She had the audacity to make them couple's outfits? God only knew how Chloe would make a monstrous deal out of it and throw a fit. 

Not to mention that Adrien seemed so stressed out about the party. His father was putting a lot of pressure on him to behave his best and be impressive to their high profile guests. On top of that the whole class had been buzzing with what they’d wear, and how it’d go, and whom they’d see. Marinette knew in her heart that sweet Adrien would understand her silly mistake, but she couldn’t bring herself to add that to his plate. The last thing he needed were rumors about them when he was already dealing with so much. 

The capelet was cute enough anyways, though she did manage to nick herself while adding a jeweled embellishment to hook in the center. Details were important. She would never take off her miraculous earrings, but the dark studs didn’t make the statement she wanted, especially if she wore her hair up like she planned. So Marinette fashioned herself a way to add some color over them, and to tie everything together she added brilliant crimson and gold in small spots wherever she could—her blue shoes, her hairpin, her purse, and the fasteners of her last-minute-in-a-panic capelet. Overall her outfit was cute, if a tad warm for an indoor event. 

Chat Noir clicked his tongue disapprovingly in her mind, but she shook away the thought. After all, it was appropriate enough when they were waiting outside the mayor’s hotel. According to Adrien, his father abhorred the idea of that many people gathering in his home, so they’d made the hotel their event venue. Marinette could easily imagine Gabriel Agreste’s distaste for large crowds and invasions of his privacy. It was a huge reason Adrien hardly invited them over. 

With a fast beating heart, Marinette politely declined having her coat checked in, making an excuse to Alya that she was feeling just slightly chilly—aftereffects of the akuma from two days ago. She felt so uneasy and jumpy. She immediately recognized some big label designers, and the gowns on some of the women were blowing her mind. She’d seen them on the runway while streaming Fashion Week, for heaven’s sake! Her cheeks burned, because as cute as she looked in her capelet, she knew that it didn’t have nearly enough of her own design when compared to her dress. She nervously fingered the golden clasp in the center, rubbing the red and blue gems to clean them before running over the small pearls just to feel their smooth bumps intact. Her hurried attempts to place them just right had landed her another set of pricks on her fingers, but just two this time; one on her right middle finger, and her left index. She didn’t even bother with bandages, with Chat Noir’s frowning face flashing in her mind. With a hint of apprehension, Marinette wondered if he really would crash the party tonight. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to crash. Maybe he was invited? 

The thought of him being present only increased her anxiety. She looked around feeling paranoid and embarrassed. If Chat Noir was here, he’d be in civilian form. He’d totally see that she chickened out on telling Adrien about her silly mistake, and he’d be snickering at her all night. Or maybe he’d actually approach her, which would be a stupid idea, giving away his identity so easily. She’d have a stern talking to him… once he got done giving her crap. 

Or maybe he wouldn’t pay her any mind, and he’d be off enjoying himself. Marinette imagined him with his grinning face, showing off his dance skills to a horde of models. It was a strange thought, and she squashed down the budding annoyance building from it. He probably wasn’t here, and if he was, well… there was nothing she could do about it anyways. 

Instead, she focused on her real dilemma. There were dozens of people from the fashion industry strutting around. She thought she’d go blind from the sheer beauty of it all. The beautifully pressed and tailored suits! Incredible shoes! Perfectly contoured makeup and styled hair! The gowns! To die for! The gowns. Of course she wasn’t going to snap pictures of strangers, but she wished she could catalogue every outfit in her mind for reference later. 

She felt so small, and so incredibly insignificant. Her Ladybug confidence was tucked away in her blue sequined purse as Tikki munched on cookies. She was a nervous mess, fidgeting in place and sweating beneath her layers of clothes. She really should take off this caplet, but—

“Marinette!” Rose greeted with an enthusiastic wave of her hand. Her puffy pink dress (big surprise) billowed slightly as she approached, followed by a tall and elegant Juleka in black (again, huge surprise). 

“Hi, Rose. Hi, Juleka.” 

“Marinette, I cannot get over the coat you made Adrien!” They were still talking about it. Great… 

Alya scoffed. “He was practically flaunting it with the way he wore it around all day yesterday.” 

She felt the heat rise up to her face. “Thank you, but it was nothing, really!” 

“Nonsense, Marinette! It was so beautiful. I would never have the guts to give him something like that with his dad and all, but you’re so talented, of course you could get away with that!” 

Juleka nodded behind her with an encouraging smile. 

“I really appreciate you saying that. It’s hard to think of what to give people who supposedly ‘have it all,’ but I like to make people gifts. At least then I know they don’t have one already.” 

Alya put her arm around Marinette’s shoulder. The heat of it made her sweat worse. 

“That’s right, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng originals aren’t going to be free for long though. We gotta work on getting her the hook-up tonight! My girl is crazy talented. She even did the tailoring on my dress, which is why I look so sexy-fine tonight.” To prove her point, she gestured down at the deep violet fabric falling seamlessly around her waist down to her legs. “There’s no way she’s coming out of this party without an intern offer,” she announced proudly, showing off a pretty white smile.

“Alya!” Her embarrassment skyrocketed. “That’s unrealistic. I just want to maybe talk to a designer, just to hear about their work process. That’d be amazing in and of itself!” 

“Don’t you worry, it’ll happen and more. We could probably get Adrien to introduce you to someone… Where is that boy?” 

“No, no, no!” Marinette could feel her blush burning away at her skin. “He’s probably incredibly busy and stressed out right now. D-don’t worry about me. I’ll do my best.” 

Adrien was really stressed out right now, not that he would let it show. To be honest, he’d been stressed out about this party since his father told him about it. He’d been given stern instructions. 

Be on his best behavior. Look impeccable. Act impeccable. Don’t be an embarrassment. Greet all the important guests. Be memorable. Be charming, but maintain professionalism. Impress them. 

He’d sigh if he could, but Adrien knew that all eyes were on him, and that he couldn’t be seen breaking a sweat. He’d caught sight of a few of his classmates. Chloe of course had made her big entrance, but he was so busy greeting and chatting up some of the higher guests alongside his father that he hadn’t talked to a single person from school aside from her. In his brief moments to relax and recharge, he would let himself relive Thursday’s birthday picnic with lunch, and friends, and good music, and fun. This was not fun. This was work disguised as a birthday party. 

“Are you having fun, Adrien?” A designer from Spain asked him in slightly accented French. She’d worked in the industry as long as his father. She’d always been kind to him.

“Oh yes! I’m having a wonderful time, and I’m especially glad that you made it,” he half-lied. Be charming. 

“Of course, of course, darling Adrien. You look wonderful. I’ve left my gift for you with your assistant.” She air kissed him on the cheek before heading off. A man with a tablet tucked under one arm followed her after giving him a curt nod. 

Nathalie had her own tablet, and was currently manning a table at the entrance. His no-doubt lavish gifts would be packed into the car at the end of the night. Tomorrow they would open them and meticulously keep track of each gift and its sender so they could mail thank-you cards to the important guests. It wasn’t that he particularly minded. He’d gotten some incredible presents in the past, but they weren’t quite personal , so much as political. It was all to show a good face, so few actually took him into consideration. They weren’t like the gifts his friends had given him, which were totally thoughtful with no expectations lurking beneath them. He’d been listening to Nino’s remix tracks almost non-stop in his free time, and yesterday he’d worn Marinette’s coat as excitedly as someone would show off a new car. 

He hoped she was enjoying the party. He knew she looked up to a lot of the designers that were here, but he did remember how shy she could be. She clammed up so often around him that he could only imagine her nervousness in front of these big brand figures. He would help her if he could, but he hadn’t seen her yet. It was a darned shame, because he really did want to see her dress. 

He craned his neck to look around and a smile broke out on his face when he caught sight of Alya’s fiery red curls. That meant Marinette was close by. His gaze hopped over to the side and he saw her then, hair up in a ponytail and cloaked in a black capelet. Hm, he wondered when she’d thrown that together. Maybe she was just cold. He hoped she wasn’t feeling sick, what with the crazy weather shifts. 

“Happy birthday, Adrien, my boy,” greeted a large man, interrupting his thoughts.

He turned and pasted on his business smile, extending his hand out. Impress them. 

He’d have to see her later.  

The clothes were marvelous. Marinette could hardly ask for more at an actual runway show than what was here today. She watched with dreamy eyes as skirts billowed with movement, both soft pleats and gorgeous draping flowing as women walked in stilettos. It was weird, but she felt incredibly short.

She’d decided to wear flats; faux-suede blue ones with gold and jeweled embellishments to match her other accessories. They were cute, and Alya had ogled them the instant she sent her the picture. They wear easy to wear, and yet Marinette found herself drowning in a sea of tall, beautiful, literal models; all of them towering over her small form. 

The designers she admired for so long felt eons away, even as she saw them standing idly at the tables next to her own. She felt hot as a blur of scenarios flitted through her head; imagined scenes where she somehow summoned enough courage to speak to someone. How would that happen? How could it? 

She took a sip of the sparkling mineral water in her flute and cast her gaze across the room. It was a large banquet hall, and the standing tables were spread around to accommodate almost everyone. There were a few sitting tables that were reserved for guests who needed them. Flowers decorated each table with a minimalist arrangement of whites and greens. The center of the room was clear to make room for dancing. Somehow she couldn’t imagine Gabriel Agreste doing anything like that, but maybe because it was Adrien’s party they allowed it. Dancing sounded fun, though she was perspiring enough as it was. 

If only she could find Adrien to explain her situation. “Hey, I know I look like I’m trying to play Couple with you in my matching dress, but I swear it was an accident! Happy Birthday, again!” Something like that. It’d be worse for him to jump to conclusions if he spotted her on his own. She wanted to explain her story to everyone, but he deserved to know first. She doubted he even had time for such a silly conversation, but she scanned the room regardless. 

In the distance she saw a splash of gold. She focused her eyes to see Chloe standing next to her father as he shook hands with another gentleman.  Her gown was long with a silky sheen. She looked tall and elegant, fitting in with the rest of the young women effortlessly, Marinette admitted with some bitterness. As long as Chloe stayed clear of them, she could keep on bragging about her expensive, custom-designed dress all she wanted. It was pretty after all, and it was fun, wasn’t it? The class had been excitedly chattering all week about what they’d be wearing to this party. She’d done her best to avoid answering the question or get involved in those conversations. It was nice to allow herself the time to devote her thoughts towards Adrien’s gift and birthday surprise picnic, but once it was over she had nothing but a full day of party prep talk. Adrien showing off his coat made the whole class suddenly become hyper-aware of her. Interest in what is Marinette going to wear piqued high, and she did her best to joke that they’d all see it the next day anyways. Everyone who saw Adrien’s new outfit would definitely be able to see the resemblance in hers!

She should’ve told Adrien when he greeted her yesterday morning, but how could she? He had turned her into a melty, gooey puddle when he thanked her earnestly for thinking about him. Words died on her tongue as she tried to confess then and there that of course she had thought about him. She did constantly because she really, really liked him. She couldn’t bring herself to do it then, and every moment after he was bombarded with peers asking about his coat, about his party, about what they should expect, who was going to be there, what he would wear, what they should wear, and so on. Though he put up a cheery front, it was clear to her, Nino, and Alya that Adrien was extremely stressed out about the whole ordeal. He was happy that everyone was so excited, but the anxiousness wove into his words and distracted mannerisms. 

Finally Marinette spotted another mop of neat, pretty blonde hair. Adrien stood next to his father in a well-tailored black tux. 

Her blue eyes squinted slightly. She couldn’t quite make out the details of his outfit from there, but she felt a rush of blood fill her face anyways. He looked so gorgeous that she swore he was sparkling as he greeted a group of three women. Obviously he was busy now, but as she watched him with awe, a part of her was strung up high with hope that he would glance her way. He’d see her from across the room, wave with his perfect smile, and excuse himself to talk to her about how lovely she looked in her dress—except that he wouldn’t be able to see it at the moment because she was still hiding it underneath her caplet. 

Ah, it felt hot all over again. 

Two hours in and people were socializing or dancing while Marinette continued to sweat it out at the table, sipping on her third glass of sparkling mineral water. With some amount of remorse, she watched as her classmates gathered on the dance floor. As much as she longed to join them, it was ridiculously hot, and she just knew that they’d insist she shed her outerwear. 

She sighed and looked around. Models and designers chatted around the entire room, but a door leading to the outside balcony seemed to call out to her. The moon shone like a lighthouse; her beacon of hope. She would go out for some fresh air, cool down, and check up on Tikki. 

Slyly, she passed by the table of sweets. She snatched up two cookies and headed outside. The instant the night air hit her face, she felt relief. She opened her bag to slip in the treats for her kwami. 

“Marinette, are you doing alright? You look feverish.” 

“I’m fine Tikki,” she said in a hushed tone. “You just be comfy.” She patted her little friend’s round head before closing up her bag again and sighed. 

The air felt nice enough for her to relax. She stared dreamily at Paris lit up. She’d seen it many times as Marinette, and had some sensational views as Ladybug, but somehow never tired of it.  She crossed her arms over the railing, gazing at the Eiffel and pleading it to lend her some of its strength and elegance and height, maybe.  

“You out here to escape the crowd, too?” 

Marinette jumped. So much for relaxing. With her heart having leapt right out of her chest, she whipped around. 

“Adrien!” 

His hands flew to protect his face on instinct. 

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to surprise you,” he apologized. “Are you okay?” 

Marinette tried to calm herself, though her efforts to cool herself down had been flushed down the drain. 

“A-Adrien! I fine it’s right! All doing I’m yes.” Oh man, she was babbling! She took a quick inhale to center herself. “I mean, yes, I’m doing fine. What are you doing out here?” 

He moved to scratch the back of his head. The people arriving at the party had died down, but he’d gone around to talk to some of his guests to make them feel especially welcome. Finally he got a break, and he practically ran outside to catch his breath. As soon as he walked out, he caught sight of Marinette still wearing that capelet to his confusion. For a second he was completely caught off guard, drinking in the sight of her silhouette. He couldn’t even make out her face, but somehow he knew it could only be Marinette. Just being near her had his nerves gently unbundling, and a smile formed naturally on his lips. When he greeted her, he didn’t expect her to be so spooked. Luckily she didn’t elbow him in the face this time. 

“I was feeling a tad overwhelmed. Needed some breathing room, you know?” He joined her side to rest his arms on the railing. “Are you enjoying the party?” 

How was she supposed to answer that? 

 “Yes, it’s very nice…” she said quietly, though the tone didn’t sound very convincing to him. “How about you? I haven’t seen you all night.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been pretty busy greeting the guests and going around meeting clients and designers. I haven’t had a second to relax until right now,” he admitted while craning his neck side to side. Perfect posture was murder.  

“That’s too bad. Are you having any fun?” 

His mouth tilted. “I’m not sure about that.” A lie would taste awful in her company. 

“O-oh. I’m sorry about that, Adrien.” 

“It could be worse. At least everyone’s having a good time, I think. I saw our class on the dance floor. Are you not going to join them?” 

Marinette cast her eyes down. “Um, maybe later.” 

He caught her look down, and his eyes followed to drink in the details of her outfit. He distinctly remembered her being nervous about what to wear in order to impress some of the people here. “You know, I’d be happy to introduce you to some of the designers here, if you’d like,” he offered. 

Her head yanked up like a fish caught by a hook. 

“No!” She exclaimed. 

It caught him off guard. 

“I mean, thank you, but I don’t think I… stand much of a chance in this,” she gestured down. 

Adrien frowned slightly. He could admit that the top was cute, but he already knew what her dress looked like underneath, and it was significantly more impressive. What was the problem if she just took off the cape, he wondered? Before he could ask, Marinette was speaking again. 

“Besides, you just got finished talking to everyone. I don’t want to make you do more of that when you should be enjoying your party.” 

He softened at her thoughtfulness, bashful to receive it once again. “That’s okay. I already had an awesome birthday, thanks to you.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face him. 

His green eyes looked golden reflecting the warm Parisian lights. They practically glowed, which struck her as oddly familiar. Adrien’s lips curved up to smile at her, and in that instant Marinette felt like her brain had been reduced to honey. She couldn’t form words. How on earth could this boy be so frickin’…

“Hot…” she sighed out. 

Her eyes went wide. Oh god . She was mortified. How much did she just say out loud, even?!

Adrien’s smile morphed into an expression of concern.

“Hot?” He tried to form the pieces together. “Was it too hot in there?” 

She couldn’t think of what to do. No excuses manifested in her head. Nearly frozen, she nodded stiffly. 

“Silly, we can check your coat in the front,” he grinned. “I can show you, if you like.” 

“O-oh, o-okay,” was all she could manage with a gulp. 

He took her hand then and led her inside, and that’s when her thoughts short-circuited. His grasp was firm as it guided her. She couldn’t tell whether it felt warm because of his body heat or her frayed nerves shooting fire through her arm. 

Inside, the lights had been dimmed down to create a more intimate space, so no one took much notice of them. She was thrown back to the time Chat Noir had led her around in pitch black. In her mind Adrien’s black tux suddenly transformed into Chat’s suit, and she automatically fell into trusting him wholeheartedly. What was Chat doing here at Adrien’s party, she wondered in a daze. Guess he’d caught her wearing her capelet instead of showing off her dress like she’d purrmised she would a few nights ago, and now he was here to mock her over it. The guilt and embarrassment rushed to her face. Of all the people to admonish her and hold her hand. 

No, wait a minute. She shook her head. What had gotten into her just now?  

“Wait!” She suddenly stopped, and Adrien turned around with concern. Their interlocked hands sat between them. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked loudly over the music. 

It was her chance to explain, tell Adrien that she’d accidentally made them matching outfits, and she was wearing her half right now; tell him she was sorry before it became a big misunderstanding. 

“D-did you dance?” she blurted out instead, surprising them both. 

“Did I… Excuse me?” the blonde asked. 

She pulled his arm and began to tug him towards the dance floor. Why was she doing this? Why was she so nervous to give him her apologetic explanation?

“It’s your party! You said that you’ve been busy. Let’s dance!” She needed to burn out her frantic energy before she could muster enough courage to talk to him properly. She just hoped she didn’t sound crazy. 

“Marinette, weren’t you hot in your…?” 

“I’m fine! Who knows if you’ll get another break!” Blue eyes looked desperate to convince him.  

It was a compelling argument, and he was tempted to follow her. Who was he to give up this chance, after all? 

Their classmates had gathered towards the very front of the dance floor near the DJ, but Adrien wouldn’t budge. Marinette looked at him as the lights twisted around them. 

He looked her up and down, and in that moment she was sure she looked absolutely ridiculous in her outwear and purse. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Who was she kidding? She should just come out and say it.  

 Adrien liked Marinette’s capelet just fine, but she seemed so flustered. Her frantic expression had him think back to several nights ago, as she clutched his coat to her chest and yelped excuses as to why she refused to wear the dress she’d slaved over. In his head, he put the pieces together. Marinette had never actually explained anything to Adrien about her matching mishap, he realized.  

“Marinette, I want to dance, but are you sure everything is alright?” 

Caught. She’d been caught. 

“Um…” she bit her lip. No, everything was not alright. First of all, she was already sweating again in her outfit. She wanted to take off the extra layer now , but she also wanted to fully explain to Adrien what had happened, and even though in her head she knew he would be understanding, she couldn’t shake the paranoia that he’d figure out all her feelings. Sure, it was a mistake that she’d made herself a dress to match his coat, but subconsciously she must have liked the idea of them as a pair. The thought had plagued her since she held the two pieces together, sighing like the hopelessly infatuated teenager she was. She was insecure about that, and about showing off her design in front of the people she admired most. She didn’t stand a chance of impressing anyone amidst the hordes of gorgeous models in beautiful dresses all around. What was she expecting? She’d take off her capelet and suddenly get swarmed with compliments and internship offers? Of course not… but she was so unsure now of even letting anyone see. Not just because her classmates would link it directly to Adrien’s coat, but also because it felt so juvenile. She was second-guessing everything. To top it off, Chat Noir may or may not have been here to check up on her. Maybe he was off dancing with one of the two-dozen beautiful, impeccably styled models. Maybe he didn’t come at all, and she was worrying for nothing. 

Compiled all together, no everything was not alright. 

He figured she was taking too long to answer. His hand found its way to her shoulder again. “Hey, it’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” 

Her shoulders sagged, and she brushed his hand off to take off her purse and undo the clasp at the center of her caplet before setting them down at her table. 

“Adrien, I’m really sorry. It’s a whole mess of things that you don’t deserve to be burdened with right now. I… had a lot of fun making your birthday present. After I finished, I designed this dress, and right after it was done, I realized that it matched your coat almost exactly, so it looks like they’re—“ 

“Partners,” he supplied, suddenly in awe of her change of outfit. 

Despite feeling so much cooler without her cape, her body was flushed with mortification. She nodded. “Yeah, they do. I didn’t mean anything by it, but I’m sorry it turned out this way.”

“Marinette, you look great. Please don’t be sorry.” 

“I was too nervous to show it to anyone without telling you first, since you know… there are implications.” she mumbled. 

He grinned, thinking back to her rambling on Tuesday night. They weren’t necessarily bad implications, he thought, but held his tongue on the matter. 

“Dance with me.” 

The girl looked up. “What?” 

“You’re the one who said I may not get another break. Let’s dance.” 

“All our classmates are going to see! I need to explain it to them first.” 

“It’s a slow song. It’ll be just you and me,” Adrien rationalized.  

“I’ll still need to say something eventually,” Marinette whined, sounding just as hopeless as when he’d visited her as Chat Noir. 

He looked thoughtful for a second, but took her hand to lead her to the dance floor. He was happy with how easily she complied. 

Adrien stopped and moved them into a comfortable position. “Just say… it’s a series. It’s a new line you’re working on. That’s why they look so similar.” 

Like a light went off in her head, the girl broke out in a sheepish grin. Soon it morphed into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god, why didn’t I think of that? Ah… that’s what I should’ve told you! If only you could’ve given me advice earlier.” She wiped away the relieved tears, letting herself float on air, deliriously happy to be dancing with Adrien Agreste. 

 “Glad to be of assistance.” Proud of himself, he flashed her a toothy grin. “It’ll be our secret,” he winked and spun her around. 

 Her vision blurred, his actions so strangely teasing, Marinette could have sworn she was dancing with a different blonde boy. The feline hero of Paris, taking a moment to spin her around before vaulting off to watch over the city. Her partner, in tune with her movements until they were perfectly in sync. The music felt like it was melting away as gears started to slowly roll in her head… 

“Adrien.” 

They both turned around. 

“Yes, Nathalie?” he asked, bringing them to a stop. 

The music came back at her full force, as if unmuted. 

“Your father needs you to greet a late-arriving party; his follow-up for the show in Milan, Mdm. Catherine Yi and company. They’re outside towards the entry door.” The tone of her voice told him to hurry. 

Catherine Yi! Marinette whipped her head around to look, but couldn’t make out where she would be among the crowd. The Chinese designer, born in Avignon and raised in Shanghai, was one of her personal fashion idols. She had clippings of her latest work up on her inspiration board! Of course he’d have to greet her! 

Adrien frowned. “I’ll be right there…” Thoughts began to run through his mind about what to say. A bullet list of points scrolled in his head. Act impeccable. Don’t be an embarrassment. Impress them.  

 “Sorry to cut the song short,” he mumbled to Marinette. “I owe you one.” 

“It’s okay,” she assured him, squeezing and letting go of his hand. 

Already turned around and poised to leave, Marinette barely caught his distracted, “Thanks, Princess.” 

She stood there like she’d been cemented to the ground by his words. His back was to her. His height, his shoulder width, the color and length of his hair, all clad in tailored black, determinedly walking away. 

She’d just danced with Chat Noir. 

It was another two and a half hours before she saw Adrien again, but the party was coming to a close. He greeted all his classmates and joined in the conversation, even as some of them began to leave for the night. 

She’d been distracted since she made the connection, and she studied him with awe as if she’d discovered he was an alien. Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir. Or at least, she was pretty sure he was. It didn’t seem right though. Chat was goofy where Adrien was composed. Adrien was meek while Chat thrived off of flirting and attention. She took a sip of her seventh glass of mineral water, but her eyes were glued to him. 

As he laughed with Nino, Max and Kim, she watched with fascination. 

Alya elbowed her rib. 

“Marinette, I know you have the hots for Adrien, but unless you want everyone else to figure it out you should probably be a little less obvious about it,” she whispered. 

She nearly spit out her drink. 

“R-right,” she gulped hard. 

Alya patted her hand against Marinette’s back. “Are you doing okay, girl?” 

She should shake it off. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I should head off to the bathroom though. Do you know where it is?” 

Red hair bounced with her nod. “Yup! I’ll just go with you. I need to go too, anyways.” 

They chatted on their trip, Alya once again appraising Marinette’s dress and make-up as they fixed themselves up in the bathroom mirrors. 

On their way back in, they were stopped. 

“Young miss,” called a woman at a nearby table. 

They both turned around to see a group of people gathered at one of the sitting tables. A Chinese woman cloaked in maroon motioned for them to come over while the rest of the party stared. 

“I guess she’s talking to one of us,” Alya muttered and looked down at her friend who stood there with wide eyes. “Marinette?”   

“It’s Catherine Yi…” 

“You mean, one of your top 20 favorite designers, Catherine Yi?” 

She moved her head up and down in a jagged, stiff motion. “C-Catherine… Yi.” 

Taking the opportunity, Alya glided her best friend over to the table with a bright smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Alya Cesaire!” 

The woman gave her a once over before turning to Marinette. “Yes. Pleasure. Catherine Yi. Designer. Are you Miss Dupain-Cheng?” 

“She certainly is!” Alya supplied, and elbowed her friend as discreetly as she could manage. 

“Madame Yi! Yes, of course! T-that’s me. I’m Marinette. It’s such an honor to meet you.” 

“Thank you, young miss. I hear from dear Adrien that you’re an aspiring designer. Is that true?” 

“I am.” 

“Did you design your dress yourself?” 

She felt her self-consciousness ball up into a dense mass in her chest. “Yes, I did. It’s all hand-sewn.” 

“Remarkable work… I used to design all of my own clothes myself back in China.” The corner of her eyes creased slightly in a smile. 

The nerves loosened then, the ball unfurling slowly. “Thank you so much. I-I can’t tell you how much that means coming from you. Your winter line in 2013 was one of the most amazing shows I’ve ever seen. It was so innovative for outerwear.” 

“Ah, you were at the show?” She asked with a raised brow. 

“N-no,” Marinette stuttered. “I streamed it online.” 

“I see. Next time how about you come watch it in person? I have a show coming up in Paris in the Spring.” 

“Oh, I’d love to, but I’m not sure I’d have access…” 

Catherine turned to a young woman seated at her left. “That won’t be a problem. I can get that squared away, dear. Just give Diane your contact information.” 

Marinette nodded furiously. 

“You know, I’m always looking for bright young women such as yourself. Adrien gave you a very high recommendation for an intern position. Would that at all be something that interests you?” 

Her breath seemed to evaporate from her lungs. “A-absolutely.” 

“Wonderful.” 

Marinette gave her contact information, with Alya’s help. For some reason, she couldn’t remember how to spell her own name. They waved goodbye with Marinette in a daze. When they returned to their group, only a few of their friends were even left. 

“Did Adrien fly off?” Alya asked. 

Nino grinned. “Yeah, he had famous-celebrity duties to attend to. He’s saying goodbye to the ‘VIP’ guests, chatting them up, being a good boy and all.” He pointed his thumb over several tables to where Adrien stood. “What took you guys so long?” 

“You’ll never guess what just happened to my girl!” Alya sang proudly. “So we’re coming back from the bathroom…”

Marinette smiled as her friend retold the experience. She was much better at telling stories anyways, and she was still in too much disbelief to even recall it fully. It was this magnificent blur of joy. 

She looked over to watch Adrien make his way to Madame Yi’s table, and saw him talk with her animatedly. They were leaving now, apparently. She watched as Adrien and his father shook hands with each member good-naturedly. As the party trailed out the door, Adrien turned around and locked eyes with her. The hand gestures he made seemed to form the message “You-her-good?” It seemed they talked about her again. 

She nodded eagerly to compensate for the distance, but her wide smile was genuine. She exaggerated her lips to mouth a sincere, “Thank you!” 

That’s when he did it: A two-finger salute with a catty grin. 

That was it. It had to be him. It had to! 

“I should be getting home,” she announced suddenly. 

Her friends looked at her, but she was distracted. Her mind was set with a still-forming plan. 

“I guess it’s getting kind of late,” they agreed. 

“I am dying to get out of these shoes,” Alya said. “I think my mom has extra in the back. I promised I’d ride home with her. Are you going to be alright getting home by yourself?” 

Marinette nodded, swinging her capelet around her shoulders. She grabbed her purse and slung it over her. “I will. Don’t worry about me.” She hugged her friends goodbye and made a bee-line for Adrien. 

When he saw her approaching his face lit up. “Marinette! I heard what happened with Madame Yi! I’m so happy for you!” 

She wasn’t thrown off by his greeting. 

“When Chat Noir dropped off your birthday present, did he say anything?” 

He was definitely thrown off by her question. 

“Uh, not really? He said, um, ‘Hey Model Boy, this is a birthday gift from that pigtailed girl in your class.’ Then he told me happy birthday and left.” 

Marinette frowned. That pigtailed girl. As if. 

“I need it back. I just remembered something I wanted to do, and I need Chat Noir to bring it back to me, tonight.” 

“What?” Adrien was so confused. “I don’t know how I can do that for you, Marinette. I don’t really have a Chat-call. Can’t I just bring it to you at school on Monday?” 

Her resolved faltered a little, but she clung on to his pun like a life-saving rope. 

“No, I need Chat Noir to do it. He owes me something, and it’s really important to me.” 

Adrien seemed shocked. 

“What does he owe you?” he asked frantically, wracking his brain to see if he’d forgotten something. 

She gulped, her hand wringing her purse chain from nervousness. Time to take the plunge… “We were dancing together earlier, and he had to leave. He said he was sorry to cut the song short, and now he owes me.” She hoped she quoted it correctly. 

She watched the color drain from Adrien’s pretty face. 

“I understand if he can’t come tonight,” she added in a hurry, now more sure of his identity but less sure of her plan. “He was really busy, but I need to talk to him as soon as possible. Do you think he’d be able to see me tonight?” 

He gulped, sweating nervously as a thousand thoughts raced. His heart was ramming against his ribcage, constricting his lungs. How on earth did Marinette figure him out? “I-I’ll… make sure h-he’s there…” 

She avoided his eyes but nodded. “Thank you. Goodnight.” 

Green eyes tracked her as she practically ran out of the hotel and into an elevator. If he could, he would’ve fainted then and there. 

It was late when he finally arrived home. As soon as the door closed, he slumped against it wallowing. His knees gave in and he sank down. Plagg zipped out of his pocket. 

“Looks like you were careless. Now your girlfriend’s got you all figured out.” 

“How did she find out?” Adrien whined. 

His kwami rolled his eyes and floated towards his stash of Camembert. “That’s what you get for getting too close. She finally picked up on your trail. Girls are nothing but trouble, unlike cheese,” he took a huge, gooey bite. He had been starving all night, and Adrien was really stingy about feeding him in his fancy suit. 

“What am I going to do? She wants to see me tonight!” 

“You’re the one who couldn’t keep a straight face about it. Your acting skills need some work.” 

“It’s too late for that now!” 

“You could always not show up,” Plagg suggested nonchalantly. 

The boy frowned, getting up and removing his jacket and tie. “I’m showing up. I told her I would.” 

“Great. Then show up and beg her not to tell your secret.” He snickered. 

“Marinette’s a good friend. She wouldn’t.” 

“Just don’t forget your birthday present. She probably wants it back now that she knows you’ve been lying to her face.” 

Adrien looked at his coat remorsefully. Actually, Plagg might have been right. He had a lot of apologizing to do. He sighed. 

“Best get this over with. Claws out!” 

He bundled the jacket in his arm and quickly vaulted out the window. He had jitters, he assessed as he struggled to keep balance on his staff. Who could blame him? Someone had just discovered his biggest secret, and that someone was waiting on her balcony right now. 

He was surprised that his first thought was, What is she doing out here without a jacket? The concern briefly invaded his panicking until he touched his foot down on the ground. 

“Marinette?” he called out unsurely. He had a distinct desire to wrap her up in his coat again, but he held back. He was nervous, but her looking so pretty was no help at all. It was quiet now, as opposed to the chatter of the party earlier. They were alone, and even though he was wearing his mask, he felt extremely exposed. 

She didn’t know what to call him. “Good evening.” She’d had time to calm herself to this state. Tikki had patiently talked her down from her frenzy early on, but the anticipation of meeting him had made her chest feel heavy. She knew she wouldn’t be able to handle pacing around in her room, so she settled outside to think and wait for him. 

His timid greeting was unsettling, because it suddenly sounded so Adrien .  

“I was told to come here and deliver this,” he offered the coat. 

She couldn’t tell if he was making light of the situation or trying a last ditch effort to cover up. Either way, she took the bundle into her hands with care. “Thank you.” 

She had a million questions. 

“Is that all you wanted?” he asked, crestfallen. 

She shook her head. “Can I ask you something and get an honest answer?” 

He hesitated for a second. “Of course you can.” 

Marinette kept her eyes cast down, transfixed to the ground as she chewed over her next words. “Was your birthday on Thursday?” 

Chat Noir blinked. The question was confirmation that she had connected the dots. She knew he was Adrien. He could try and deny it now, but he doubted it’d work. “Yeah. It was my birthday on Thursday.” He’d just said he’d answer her honestly, after all.

She bit her lip and nodded thoughtfully. “And tonight we danced together, didn’t we?” 

With a sigh, he bobbed his head in confirmation. “Marinette, I’m really sorry. I don’t know how you found out, but I slipped up.” 

“You called me ‘Princess.’” 

His shoulders stiffened. Had he done that? 

“Also you winked, and you have the same smile. Then you did that salute you always do when you’re leaving.” She copied the gesture to make her point. Not just the hand motion, but the cocky smirk and wink to go along with it. 

He let out a chuckle. “I was really careless then.” 

“Yeah, you were. Those are trademark Chat Noir moves,” she agreed. “It’s okay though, because it’s me. I promise I won't tell anyone. It’ll be our secret ,” she quoted from earlier, offering him a timid smile.

It relaxed him marginally; enough that he put his arms around her. “Thank you Marinette. I know I can trust you.” He squeezed her arms. 

The girl pursed her lips. 

“About the coat…” 

Chat pulled back. “I understand if you’re mad at me and want to take it back.” 

Marinette shook her head. “It’s not that. I just… really wanted to give it to you in person.” 

“I mean, you technically did when I ‘delivered’ it to my house Thursday night. Are we going to have a do-over now?” 

She nodded, blushing, and suddenly he was too. 

He stood there as she cleared her throat. 

“Happy birthday Adrien. I made this for you,” she held out the coat for him, and he graciously accepted it. “Before you say anything, I have to tell you. It’s part of a series I’m working on. It’s a new line, and I’ve also made a dress as part of it. It was definitely not an accident where I made us matching outfits.”

He cracked a laugh. “Oh, I see. Good thing that we cleared that up. You know, I actually had this big party tonight, and that dress would have been perfect for the event. I bet that if you’d worn that, you’d land an internship or something with some big-shot design label.” 

“That’s so funny, because I think I got offered a position as an intern today at this fancy party I attended!” 

“What a coincidence,” he mocked surprise. 

“Not really. I had a friend helping me out.” 

“Is that so? Sounds like a great friend.” 

“He is a wonderful friend. It was his birthday party, actually, but he was really sweet to think about me. It’s just too bad that he ditched me mid-song while we were dancing.” 

“I didn’t ditch you!” Chat defended. 

Marinette stared up at him with a sly smile and twinkle in her eyes, and he realized he had broken character first. Darn. 

She raised her head and shut her eyes. “Hm, are you paw sitive about that?” She hummed slowly, pretending to think it over. The world seemed hushed and serene as he looked at her soft smile. Her dark eyelashes swept over her pale cheeks, skin aglow from her lanterns and the moonlight. 

He took a chance. “I’m pretty sure I said I owe you a dance,” he coughed.  

When she opened her eyes, she was completely taken aback to see Adrien Agreste standing where Chat Noir had been only a second ago. He was wearing the coat he’d just re-received, but in his haste to detransform, he hadn’t bothered to button it. She could see him still in a white dress shirt and his slacks. Her bravado and teasing ran far off. She was left feeling completely flushed. 

“Can I make it up to you now? You’re dressed for the occasion, after all. Also, we match.” 

She looked down, embarrassed but so, so glad she hadn’t changed out of her dress and into pajamas.  

He gave her a warm stare, offering her his hand with the same smile he’d shown her the day he had offered her his umbrella. From behind his back, a song played from his phone. The starlight formed a halo around him. Who’d say no to that? 

Adrien pulled her appropriately closer; hands moving to rest modestly at her waist. She was glad she could put her arms around his shoulders and use him for support, because she thought it was very possible her legs would begin to wobble soon. 

Unable to look him in the eye, she turned her head to the side. When it came in contact with his shoulder, she did her best to take even breaths. 

“Princess, are you swooning over me?” he asked cockily. Honestly, he didn’t know why it was fifty times easier to flirt when she wasn’t actually looking at him. Maybe it was just to ease them back into their playful relationship, but he enjoyed her dismissive snort. 

“As if.” 

Being unable to see his face, Marinette could imagine that it was just Chat Noir being his usual, goofy self. She was good at dealing with that. She sighed in relief, letting her heartbeat return to a normal-ish pace. It’s just Chat. 

 “But really, Marinette. Thank you for being so amazing. You’ve made every part of this birthday amazing for me.” 

Not just Chat. Adrien. Adrien Agreste! But it’s okay because it’s Chat Noir. 

She kept her eyes shut and did her best to maintain composure. 

They continued to move in slow circles until Adrien decided to pull away to spin her around. Finally able to act more comfortably, Marinette let Adrien and Chat fuse into a single entity. The person in front of her was her crush and her partner and one of her dearest friends, all in one. 

Adrien is Chat Noir. 

It gave her an idea. She pulled away, a devious plan giving her enough confidence to stand up to Adrien’s perfect, model face without turning into mush.  

“Actually, there’s one more thing I thought to give you.” 

He blinked owlishly. “You really don’t have to give me anything else. You’ve already done so much.” 

“Trust me, you’ll love it.” 

Her grin had him nervous. She’d made him a coat, she’d planned out a picnic, she’d taken him to the dance floor to enjoy his own party, and she promised to keep his secret identity safe. What more could one girl even do? 

Despite his protests, he leaned in when she motioned him closer. Her arms were still around his neck, and suddenly he was stiflingly warm as he felt her breath against his ear. 

“M-Marinette?” 

“ Ladybug was at your party tonight ,” she whispered.  

Adrien sputtered. “She what? H-how did you know? When did you see her? Was she like, Ladybug or… what was she wearing?” 

Marinette pulled back from him and fought off her fit of giggles. 

“She was actually wearing this. ” She gestured to her dress. “And she danced with you, twice now.” Her pink lips curved into a coy smile as she waited for him to fit the pieces together. She took delight in watching his eyes go even wider. 

“L-Ladybug…?” He gripped her shoulders like she’d fly away otherwise. 

Satisfaction warmed her like a gentle fire. She liked stuttering Adrien as much as she adored frazzled Chat Noir. 

“Happy belated birthday, Chaton ,” she said, leaning up to kiss his nose once again. “Was that a good present?”  

Adrien gathered her in his arms and squeezed her tightly. His Lady. Marinette. He pressed his lips against her soft bangs as her laughter rose into the starlit sky, and it was music to him. The best music he’d ever heard in his entire life. He could dance to it forever as long as she was his partner. 

“The best.”