Chapter Text
There was no room for decency, in her mind echoing insult after insult to herself. She could hear insults in other voices to evade the self-destructive thought for a moment and believe that it was not her own being rude to her most vulnerable self but the sheer existence of all those who hated her shouting over and over again how pathetic she was. As the minutes, hours and days went by, her morale declined a little more, her heart clung to her ribs as if the space inside would run out and then she would have to live hanging between Marinette's sides; leaving her absolutely unfeeling, unemotional, dead in life. It wasn't a bad idea after all, Adrien's silence had plunged her into a pit of self-pity and complex listlessness for having been for so many years just fine. When the phone didn't ring that night, or the next night, or the two nights after that, she knew it was a mistake. She should not have done it, the only thing she was sure of. She had exhausted all possibilities and as if she was such a good preacher, she knew she had just lost her love and her friendship. The way she always knew it would happen.
New York ceased to interest her on Thursday. It was her obligation to go; her parents had put a good part of their savings into travel, lodging and other expenses; she couldn't do that to them. After all, staying in Paris would end up breaking her heart, the world' s capital was meant to be her best escape and the land that would put the broken pieces back together. Without his face, or his blinding hair or his emerald eyes that shattered any chance of sanity after seeing them for the first time. She wanted to purge herself of Adrien. It was a duty to herself.
On Saturday morning Madame Bourgeois called to confirm her and Alya's attendance at the winter parade that would take place as soon as they set foot on American soil. She promised not only a warm welcome for the new graduates, but also finely tailored fabrics to allow them to be part of the red carpet at the start of the event. Something comforted her amidst all the chaos: her greatest passion was standing firm on a project that was on the rise and she knew Audrey would give her the resources and guidance she needed to be the best she could be, showing what her hands were made of and that unstoppable mind that never stopped creating.
" Are you sure you have everything, what about your passport, is your mobile phone charged, have you got enough clothes, what about money, are you sure you don't need more? Oh, Marinette... ", there was her mother as she had never known her. Breaking through the barriers of her characteristic peace and coolness, worried and nostalgic about her daughter's departure. The pure warmth and affection of her family would be her greatest distress during the first months in the frozen city, while with luck she would manage to survive and undertake adult life hand in hand with her friend.
" Mum, I already said yes. We'll go over everything in the morning -- "
" Don't worry, Mrs. Cheng! ", Alya interjected with her index fingers in her direction as radiant as ever and a smile accompanying the mischievous gesture with which, seconds later, she wrapped an arm around Sabine's shoulders and guided her a few metres behind the entrance to the train.
It would be London where a private jet would pick up the two young women and take them directly to the destination to define the rest of their lives with all the comforts of a journey as luxurious as Audrey Bourgeois herself could offer.
" Adrien is coming? "Tom asked in a whisper behind the teenager, who was watching from a distance as her mother and best friend tried to find calm, consoling each other. "Or did you manage to talk to him these days? "
Ah, that was another matter. The problem of confiding everything to her parents and constantly updating them on situations; the conclusion of having to disappoint them with an absent, not even negative response.
" Uh - yes, yes. We talked yesterday, actually," she lied crestfallen, sunk in her own sadness. " We said goodbye yesterday because he had a busy schedule today between charities and photo shoots. Although . . . you know, I think it's better we stay as friends, he - he's not on the same page as me and it's okay, it wasn't important after all. "
But the oldest knew it was. The illusion in his daughter's eyes for years hadn't lied, he who knew love too because he lived it day by day next to the woman who had given him such a blissful life, he who knew what love and lovelessness was, so experienced and yet humble to testify about it, he knew that it was the great thing.
He rested one of his large hands on the delicate silhouette of his legacy and gave her a sad smile. He wasn't sure if they would understand each other through the soul gate, but beyond understanding, he was supportive. A squeeze signifying a promise that all would be well again. Someday.
Marinette's eyes clouded and a blush warning of dew on her cheeks painted itself, she had to duck her head again. The blonde boy had turned her world upside down from the first moment, damn umbrella, damn Chloe, damn school. Had that bitter, extreme feeling of hurt that made her wish she'd never met him, or listened to him when he sought to apologise for the rich girl's actions, or attended the same school. Each memory collided with a different possibility that denied them time together, if only it had been as easy as never forgiving him.
The blue-haired girl then turned to her suitcases resting beside her mother's seat.
" It's time, Alya ", she announced with a small grimace between her crimson edges shortly after hearing the train driver's second announcement over the loudspeakers.
Sabine, with transparent cumulus in the corner of her eyes and a tempered pout on her lips, ended up letting out an anguished gasp. Dews of grey orbs wet her cheeks in sadness and farewell, Mrs. Cheng cradled Marinette in both arms one last time as she kept kissing her cheek. The heiress could not help crying as soon as she fell into her mother's shelter and so with a tight embrace she ended up distancing herself from her mother. Both wiped away the other's tears with one of their thumbs and laughed in misty laughter at the coinciding gesture.
The loudspeaker sounded again. Mari went to say goodbye to her father, while Alya took her turn with Sabine since the proper goodbye with her family had been done at home since they could not accompany her, and Nino, late as always, would surely arrive at the last moment or they would have to see each other a couple of weeks later as they had planned for days planning each of their visits and meetings. They were a dream, those two.
The young women began to drag the suitcases from their levers on the wheels of their great weight, both of them entering through the wide door of the transport, when suddenly . . .
" Marinette, wait! ", from far, still far away, both girls managed to hear clearly. Adrien. Adrien. Adrien. ADRIEN.
Their necks turned mercilessly towards the source of the call, and the one requested by inertia presented one of her typical reactions. Blushing, eyes wide as saucers, undecipherable babbling and a trembling she' d swear she'd perish on the spot.
Last call: Route k-732 bound for London, England. Please board the appropriate carriages. We'll be leaving in a minute.
It had to be a really bad joke.
While Nino and Alya wasted no time with a passionate kiss, the future journalist flying through the air in the arms of the scarlet-capped beau, the two weird idiots could barely take their eyes off each other or even blink.
After a week full of mutual uncertainty, Agreste found her. Unspoiled, nervous as ever, overcome by a sadness impossible to hide.
" Marinette. . . . "
" What are you doing here? ", wishing to sound distant as she had become accustomed to, she uttered with a broken thread in her sweet voice, failing. As usual.
The question pierced Adrien, like an icy edge in his heart. He felt, in spite of everything, Dupain-Cheng's indifferent gaze on him, as if at last after so much . . . he hated him at last.
" Your letter, I -- " he hesitantly wanted to express himself in the best possible way, the time against them did not help and he was already 20 seconds short.
" You don't have to feel sorry for me, Adrien. Nor give me an explanation for your actions or decisions. "
" Mari, we need to talk. "
A serious and calm tone. Asking her to stop her speculations and for once to stop listening to the voice that filled her head with insecurities. He needed her to trust him.
The teenager looked inside the train. Fifteen seconds left to get in and abandon her life in Paris. Abandon him. Her breath begged for some peace, to stop this madness and go on without Adrien, without listening to him. Her hands clenched the latch of her suitcase, a loud bell inside the train signalled the closing of the doors to finally start the journey.
" Will you go to the Audrey Bourgeois fashion show," Adrien interrupted Marinette's nervous silence once again, hurrying her along as she seemed to be frozen without being able to make any decision. The young girl just nodded, her chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. Adrien noticed it, that attitude again. Then, with barely ten seconds to spare, Adrien pulled out the lucky charm Marinette had given him in his right hand while his left hand helped to carry the suitcases in with Alya's free hand, who called out to her back in an echo insignificant to them at the moment. Once the suitcases were in, the blond took his best friend by the arm gently and helped her into the carriage. He held out the amulet, which was quickly received by the blue-eyed girl. " Tonight I'll go get it, I have a lot of things to tell you, Marinette. "
Once their hands parted, the doors divided them in a distance which however short, tortured them until lost through the crystals soon surrounded by the tunnel through which the underground went.
" What the fuck was that ", Alya whispered behind her back, agitated by the very tension and eagerness of the moment.
" I haven't the faintest idea. . . ", the younger of the two gave a hint. " But he's making sure I can't forget ", she finally pronounced, not knowing how to feel about it. It wasn't a hopeful conclusion by any means, it was just surprising. No pros or cons, just expectant. She returned her gaze to the detail in her hands, impeccable and preserved over the years. After so much back and forth, promises were still being made.
* * *
There was something in her mind not working, not connecting senses with reality. Her touch was faulty and her breathing was going on as a function independent of her body. No words were spoken during the trip, barely four sentences when they met with Audrey to finalise the day's and night's agenda. She trusted Alya to keep an eye on that and take notes because Marinette had only one name on her mind and it wasn't Versace or Vuitton. For the first two weeks they would be staying in a hotel, accommodation funded by Chloe's mother as a courtesy for everything the two girls were about to experience.
" You've got to stop that face now, kid ", the brunette pointed out after a long afternoon without a word from her friend and now it was her turn to act by looking at her through a mirror making the futile attempt to put on her silver plated earrings. " If it is true he will come to talk things over with you, you have to show him you can take it all, that you are firm and will never again be the distracted and nervous girl you were before you were friends. . . You can't take steps backwards, Mari. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to either. - Adrien above all else has always prioritised your wellbeing, show him that you'll be fine. "
The young French girl's frown became pronounced as she made her attempt to not allow the crying to once again come to spill over her now made up face.
" What if he travels halfway around the world just to tell me that he doesn't want our friendship to be ruined and that he will stay by my side no matter what ", the melody of her voice was the saddest ever heard, the last note, the highest pitched and yet melancholic, lacking in energy.
Alya came to her twelve, kneeling in front of Nette helping her with the strap of her heels.
" Well, if he does that. . . he's a bastard. But I know him and I saw that look on him. He gave you the amulet, he'll travel to the other side of the world for you. You're the one who means the most to him. He's not the kind of guy who's sure to break your heart, Adrien knows he comes with risks, he's a smart guy. . . Take that negative idea out of everything to do with him, you have the qualities anybody would want to stay by your side. Think about how wonderful you are and how those are the reasons why Adrien is going to stay, that's why he's done so much for you; to defy his father, as the most relevant thing. "
She was silent for many seconds, even half a minute count. Could she really be enough for anyone, would anyone really want to stay with her after such a confession? Time would tell, some would say, but what will time tell her when she had taken advantage of it to make a situation that had to happen years ago wait. Would time also be disappointed in her? There was no way to think positive, no way for that enslaving weight to leave the restlessness in her chest alone. She felt pathetic once again.
Finally, Miss Cheng sighed in defeat. She nodded reluctantly and gave a pure look to her best friend who didn't hesitate to take her chin to lift her face and hold firm her idea of having her head held high in the face of any circumstance. An embrace sealed their friendship once again, in this new journey that they would accomplish together side by side like a dream they didn't know they had to achieve until the opportunity presented itself.
" Now get up and take your wallet, queen. It's time to start the first day of the rest of our lives. "
* * *
Finally, after so many nights of sadness and exhaustion, she found her reward at that dazzling gala. People who already knew her name from Audrey's anecdotes of work they had done together in Paris, some who through research and self-knowledge recognised Marinette's name from the eccentric works she had presented to the public, others who knew her from Adrien's influences in interviews and press conferences. Not even on her blissful night could she get rid of him, and she certainly would not.
She knew this when, at the after party in the crowd, a path was made with heads pointed unfiltered towards the entrance of the small pub and the golden hair stood out in the crowd who, after a long silence of admiration, went back to their business or others directly to greet the most influential celebrity of the last three years.
A third cocktail was slid over the bar towards Marinette and ignoring the presence which was obviously looking for her over the shortest in the audience, she turned to drink alone. Alya had been charmed by several models and actresses who had granted her an interview or friendly talk.
Suddenly the scent came over her. One she hadn't smelled in a long time, especially with the strange combination of that cologne she adored so much.
" I didn't know you drank. "
" I didn't know you'd taken up smoking again ", jaque.
From his flirtatious smile, his lips gave way to a tender laugh. She hated him.
" Stressful times, you know it has been a long time since I've done that ", the older one sought to excuse himself as he watched the scene with his back against the bar. Finding the easiest and least scandalous exits for the paparazzi to take. " Did you bring the amulet with you? " he asked, returning his gaze to the woman with tenderness and freshness, though nothing of the latter inwardly.
Nervous and still with the words jumbled in his mind, Adrien took the risk to wait no longer and make his presence known to find Dupain-Cheng. She looked so pretty. A midnight blue suit with a light pink strapless top. The usual colours for her, always so timely and elegant.
He, though, wasn't bad either. Only he was used to suits, this time a white one with a light blue shirt with the first two buttons undone.
" If you've only come for the amulet, I can send it to you by Amazon ", she proclaimed coldly, taking a third sip of her drink. Adrien laughed again. He loved seeing her angry, he knew inside she was dying to bring out that caring and concerned self, she was too good to make anyone feel bad. Now it was his mission to take care of her, especially with the drinks. He knew that, despite having 3 or 4 occasions of contact with liquor, Marinette just wasn't good at drinking and the guilt that would haunt her the next day for having done so would be worse.
"I've come for you, Marinette. . . . .", tightening his lips in a smile full of regret, he turned towards the woman, devoting all his attention to her. Even without the contact he needed on their hands, the millionaire's green eyes examined every part of the minimal space shared there on the two armchairs next to the bar.
People were starting to talk.
Marinette sighed, overwhelmed, did she really want to listen to him? Worst-case scenarios were playing out in her mind, the closeness with Adrien was agonising, even though he had never made her feel bad.
"I'm sorry I didn't respond to you sooner," he continued as he noticed Marinette's quiet stance, withdrawing his gaze from her so as not to make her stay any more uncomfortable. It was the last thing he wanted, especially at such a critical moment. "I needed to think about a lot of things. . . . I didn't want to answer you at the moment of reading the letter either, I might miss something and I didn't want to hurt you. "
There she found the answer she had suffered so much to imagine. I didn't want to hurt you, because I only see you as a friend. Bingo, she knew. Found irreparable damage at the bottom of her heart. No matter how much deep down inside she still held on to the small hope that he would reciprocate, it was too good to be true.
"Do you have anything else to say to me, Adrien," she asked the model listlessly, her voice exhausted with so much emotional and mental tiredness. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, she couldn't let him see her feelings on a silver platter again, let him see her so badly.
"I have much more to tell you, Mari," he pronounced once again sternly, softly and patiently. Questioning whether she was interested in hearing the rest of the words planned over the last two days in his mind. With a nod of his head, he pointed to the balcony to the right.
Showing his left palm outstretched towards Dupain-Cheng, he invited her to take it like all the previous times he had done so, in complete naturalness and calmness. She, lousy with alcohol and knowing that there was something burning in her mouth, accepted the hand to hold without either stumbling or demonstrating her barely red-hot condition.
People continued to talk and now the murmurs contrasted with the volume of the music.
Once they reached the balcony, Adrien took the liberty of closing the main doors to its entrance while one of the windows continued to play music and a few cheeky faces peered through the opaque glass.
"Is it that serious?" asked the girl with her arms folded, attentive to the man's movements. Her somewhat less than disappointed tone had managed to mellow and natural as ever, she strove to return to both of them the peaceful vibe usually enveloping their moments together.
From the inside of his blazer he exposed the two pages folded into a rectangular crease, both bouncing in the air at the wave of his hand. Soon after he pocketed them and with his arms draped over the edge of the frame, he gazed into the night with a coming desire to make the girl his sole focus especially for this conversation.
"How long did it take you to write the letter," was the first thing that occurred to him to question through a hoarse and almost empty tone that occupied his mind in searching for better questions as the silence formed Marinette's first reply.
"Two days. Half a notepad and a whole pencil", with simplicity and neatness answered the sky-eyed one looking at the moon.
"And what were you thinking as you tore out paper after paper? "
"That I was stupid. "
Then he caught her eye as the best excuse to finally admire her profile lost in the evening.
"For something specific? "
" Do you want me to list them for you?", somewhat more relaxed, she questioned in Adrien's direction with an arched eyebrow. Either way, he always managed to give her peace even in the moments when he was the hurricane that ravaged her heart. He even flashed a smile in her direction as well.
"Please," the same calmness came over the wealthy boy and he gave her one of his customary sweet and calm smiles.
"For having done it so late, for daring to do it, for convincing myself that I would get something good out of it, for believing that somehow it would work, for not having done it sooner, because after all this time I still couldn't find the right words, because I should have been booking train seats and hotel rooms instead of writing you something that I was sure I wouldn't deliver in the end either. . . I don't know -- so many things?", she was no longer looking at the moon either, she was just lost in the knot of their intertwined hands. Embarrassed, he didn't expect Marinette to feel this way, and he couldn't extend the evening any longer seeing her in a state that seemed irreversible. There was no way he could offer her pain when, in his plans, Adrien wanted to give her something more than what they had had for so many years. Starting with the recognition of their emotions.
"Listen," he set the precedent for what would be his ideas coming out one by one. He chuckled under his breath and immediately scratched the back of his neck in nervousness. Marinette noticed, thought it was adorable of him. He felt trapped, naked in his emotions with her. It wasn't the first time they had experienced that kind of sincerity, but this time it was . . . different. "Until five years ago I had no idea how to relate to people, least of all my own age. I grew up in an environment where I was a number to all the adults and the only children I knew didn't speak to me because their parents were just like mine. I had a loving mother who protected me until she disappeared .... But I was never taught the realm of love relationships. I watched movies and everything was so unreal that I assumed that love only happened in the movies", at that moment it was her green eyes that were lost in the void that ended in a thirty-storey free fall. "Entering the school showed me a fascinating and terrifying part of the world. I had in mind that everyone was going to hurt me, but when I met Nino, Alya. . . you, I felt it was possible to trust. "
A sweet, grateful look turned over the stranded night sky, she felt herself melt again. Why was she doing that? What did she want to get out of it if it wasn't more than a simple friendship that could be affirmed through a text message? As some wounds healed, others opened. It was always like that with Adrien.
He was as nervous as she was, but Adrien never succeeded in knowing how to manage his feelings or how to express them without retaliation, rejection, mockery or simple indifference. His father's voice sounded like a reminder of all those moments in a fleeting moment. Suddenly fear came over him, he didn't want to lose Marinette because of poor management of emotions and thoughts. He had travelled all the way from Paris to give her the good news, not to tear her apart now that she had just found him being only friends over a Martini.
"Why are you telling me all this, A," Nette uttered in a voice immersed in pure confusion, just like her frown and the hesitant gestures of her hands not knowing whether to create a support between their hands or keep their distance until it was opportune.
"According to Nathalie, around the age of thirteen, guys start to have strong feelings towards other people. You understand some attitudes in your childhood were because you liked someone, you had some kind of experience ... I didn't have that, Marinette. I wanted to have friends, a normal life. Love just wasn't in my plans, I didn't know how people in love acted in real life either. So everything meant friendship for me and that was perfect - I wanted to stop feeling lonely ...".
He was embarrassed to be so intimate with her, he felt like a little boy telling his Christmas wishes to Santa Claus, vulnerable and small. Telling her about that prospect they never had the time to discuss and about which he now hesitantly knew if it was the best situation to talk about it.
Marinette's heart shrank in sorrow. She sometimes overlooked Adrien's unusual life and his very chaotic incorporation into society.
"Adrien, is everything all right, did something happen? "She soon felt a farewell in his tone, one with no return. Was he bidding her goodbye?
Frightened, the blond turned to Cheng and shrugged the matter off, returning from the land of memories, returning to the balcony with his most valued company. He smiled gently at her and, on his own initiative, took Marinette's left hand between his two palms and gave it a warm squeeze. In this way he assured her that everything was fine. "Don't worry, Mari. All is well. "
She kept silent, looking at him through her olive irises. Something was not right.
The answer was I don't believe you in her mind, but she just nodded in sync with him and thus asked him to continue.
"Were you afraid I would reject you because I didn't like you or because a relationship didn't seem right for me? ", fluid and quick, he asked.
"I don't know. At first I just wanted you to like me because I knew you didn't, but then with our friendship I was more terrified of losing you because of this kind of situation. Everything from then on was based on losing you, but I also didn't want to keep this in; it was - exhausting. "
And he believed her, it was unnecessary to see any kind of effort in Marinette's gestures when she had always been so sincere and transparent with everyone. It was easy to read her through her eyes and the restlessness in her hands. So familiar with her.
"I didn't mention your father in the letter because I didn't want something as banal as a declaration of love to involve such a delicate matter as that," before allowing Adrien to speak, she anticipated mentioning what she felt it was necessary to apologise for. Oh, there was no need, no apology at all about it, the blond almost let out a laugh at not being in such a fragile moment where any gesture could be misinterpreted and guilty of a night in distress.
"The letter was not banal at all, but I appreciate that you did it that way, Marinette," again the sweet smile, totally understanding. "Although for once, for one night, I want to forget about him. . . . I ask you, please. "
It was then on Marinette's initiative the distance between them was diminishing and there was the first contact of their shoulders together as Adrien slouched with his forearms resting on the railing. Accepting their treatment, focusing on them and no one else. Making the thirds a bad noise in the background and calling out for him to continue. The navy-stranded girl brought one of her hands towards the nearest of the blond's to do the typical intertwined finger play as a conversation flowed between the two of them. A welcome gesture that brought him a wave of relief to know as things, for the time being, remained the same.
"After Ladybug and Chat Noir found out who was under Shadow Moth's mask, after so many months of being in courts and trials, after you accompanied me on all those prison visits with dad. You were unconditional, you missed school for me, you welcomed me into your home and did everything you could to make sure I lacked for nothing; neither love, nor money when they froze the family's monetary funds until the trials were over. "
The blond shrugged, resigned. Remembering his father's affair, knowing that he himself had discovered it, and still not being able to tell his secret to anyone, not even her. . . . It brought nothing but pain to his heart. With the loss of his father, being alone became a habit he detested unlike when his father was at home, but it left him alone anyway; it was a loneliness so profound because there was no one to forbid him, no one to command him, no one to guide him. He was alone in front of a world he had never been allowed to know and yet there she was. Too blind to see it.
"Don't think it was immediate," he warned, gently and with a silly laugh. Marinette remained silent, attentive to the expressions she already knew when Adrien lost himself in the past and all that still weighed on her back. What was he talking about? Were they still on the same topic of conversation? "If it had been that easy, I would have told you . . . But I'm too dumb to understand the signals others might give me, and I thought you and I were being overly kind to each other.... I learned that all likes and dislikes are different. It wasn't the same feeling I had for Kagamy or Nicole; it was so special that I mistook it for a kind of unbreakable friendship. "
" Mistaking what?", unsure of her question, she still dared to ask it as soon as she had the chance to steal Agreste's diction. A small light flared inside her as the larger sliver of darkness dulled the hope telling her it was nothing, not to return to her ridiculous illusion.
"Feeling you far away made me miss you more than anyone else and the emptiness of your company grew bigger and bigger with your indifference and your excuses -- and I get it, I do! "He stole seconds of his own speech to reassure Marinette that nothing was wrong and above all, to avoid future feelings of guilt in her which he did not want to provoke. "Maybe I deserved it ... because it was the only way I could understand a lot of things that I had trouble understanding with you, being in our comfort zone. I had to ask others about the kind of feelings I was developing, I understood about jealousy ... . I understood that you were never just a friend to me, not even my best friend, you were always something more. "
At that point in the conversation, Marinette was fascinated by his words; so much so, the last part caught her off guard and a minimal startle hit over the same spot. Her brow furrowed again, was she listening properly? Her mouth went suddenly dry and the blush progressively painted her cheekbones. The movements of her hands in mischief with Adrien's stopped and so did the time around them. There were no more frantic lights or noise behind them. It was them and the moon, as always.
Adrien was smiling a lot, he radiated too much light and judging by the way he looked, Marinette swore he was the fucking sun. The biggest and brightest star in the entire solar system. He looked relieved, as if he was pulling out of his heart a piece of stone that he had been processing for months without telling anyone.
"I kept quiet about all these discoveries over the year because I didn't want to bother you when you were dating Nicholas, we weren't talking and I didn't want to be an inconvenience to you at all," perfect, adorable and irresistible. That's how she remembered him from weeks before when she'd had him that close again. "But on the day of the prom I understood a lot of things and - it was only my cowardice that prevented us from agreeing that day to tell each other the truth. "
He was gradually introducing the matter of the letter, and she could not have looked more excited, even clasping her hands again and biting the lower of her lips so as not to give herself away by the smile which she supposed to be bigger than the one drawn at the corners of her mouth.
"So did you read the letter?" a tiny, bouncy tone asked with all the calmness on her side and a rose-coloured aura washed over them after the resounding change in their conversation.
Soon they heard their song at once, with the sweet caramel-coloured chords and the tender melody that slipped the time around them. It was just for them, they deserved it. They glanced at each other once more for having understood the reference and checked if the other remembered it too, then they laughed and Agreste at last answered with a slight nod of his cheery face. "And that's why I'm here. . There were things in my power that I couldn't control, but I can't help feeling guilt for all that you had to keep silent and hurt just because you believed that . . . you were no good for me. I had to read your letter several times to put the pieces of the blissful puzzle together because you took my sleep away more than once too. . . . I got angry as soon as I read the first part of the letter, I won't lie to you. I had wrong thoughts about you and our friendship, that's why I reserved the right to answer you right away. I was upset with myself for not being on the same page as you, I was upset with the whole world. . and I felt lonely all of a sudden. I wanted to give you so much and the very idea of you wanting to come to New York to forget about me, broke me . ."
The curious thing after all on that night was the important and extensive talk. Adrien had never talked so much and Mari had never been so silent. Hearing him talk openly about his feelings was gratifying and for the first time it was about them, no third wheel in the middle or a second love neither of them belonged to. It was just the two of them against the world. The scene was getting more and more dramatic with their piece of music in the background, but they had never been closer to a conclusion like that. Explosive and full of desire.
"Why did you think I wouldn't want to listen to you? Did you ever think that what you were feeling little by little was a reflection of the way I was behaving towards you," Marinette's steps advanced towards the model in a slow, dancing rhythm. Taking advantage of the other half of the song they still had left. She arranged the hands of both of them in their respective places and oriented under the clear sky the first pieces introduced to their dance.
"I thought about it, yes," he said to her, letting her hands proceed. Left and right handed on the narrower curvature of the designer, a tenuous touch delimiting the confidence and the permission on which Marinette allowed him. On her side, left hand on the nape of his neck and right hand on his chest on the parallel side, she lay her head on the pale fabric inhaling the scent of tobacco combined with cologne. She could hear Adrien's heart pounding, though she wanted to hear more from his lips. The swaying of their bodies had already settled in. "But I saw you so happy with Nicholas that I thought those feelings for me were dead, you were so happy and I saw you so stable I dared not disturb the peace that came over you . . . However, I came here for you under all probability that what was written in the letter was still alive. To give you my truth ... and to give you the time we didn't have together."
Listening to Adrien filled her with joy, a new sense of victory, getting her own way, having something good amidst all the mess that had been her life. A wish fulfilled, a goal achieved. There was nothing more in the world she had wanted than to love and be loved in the same way.
"And then what next," Marinette questioned gently, lifting her face to look at her prince once more. Asking him for guidance, for a hand to hold in order to embark on the path elucidated in the short term. To start an adventure together.
" A date, I think ", a little mischievous and three times as fresh as a few minutes before, he reciprocated the alluring look of his favourite artist. "And a hamster, because I love hamsters," he thoughtfully found his answer in the last notes of the moonlight dance. "And a stability," he returned to the sky eyes that attended to his repertoire. With the forefinger and thumb of his left hand he tilted Marinette's chin and he, totally fascinated, first cast a glance asking her permission to proceed. Then a kiss closed their promise; slow, sweet and short.
By the time it happened, the night once again bore witness to their love.