Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started as a joke.

Chat Noir had thrown the idea into the air one night when they'd taken a break from patrol. The city was quiet, the breeze that danced through the open sky was refreshing, and the laughter accompanying his voice had made Marinette smile all too wide.

"What if we moved in together?" he'd asked with a nervous twitch of his tail. "I've been preparing to move out for a while, but... I don't know. Something about the thought of living alone makes me nervous."

"You mean-" Marinette's eyes widened. "Us? Move in together? Like Ladybug and Chat Noir living together?"

"Yeah," Chat laughed. "What if?"

At first, she'd given her partner nothing more than a chuckle and a dismissive pat on the shoulder, shaking her head at the simple notion. It had been such a funny thing for him to suggest that the giggles rising from her throat had been too hard to suppress. Even if she secretly didn't despise the idea, she knew it would never work out. How could it? Their identities needed to stay secret. That was the most important rule, Tikki had said.

It wasn’t possible! Things would be too difficult, too confusing, too risky...

"How would we even manage that?" she asked, swinging her legs over the ledge of the apartment complex they had paused upon and taking in a breath of the atmosphere. She could detect a small hint of food cooking somewhere, and in the distance, music played, which added to the comforting ambiance of the city she adored so much. "We'd just walk around in our home transformed like it was a normal thing?"

Chat Noir offered a shrug, looking a tad sheepish. "Hah, yeah, I guess that sounds kind of stupid."

A frown replaced Marinette's smile. She felt a smidge guilty for her previous comment. "Well," she said in an attempt to fix her blunder, "I don't know about stupid …"

"It would probably be weird," Chat continued. "And awkward at times... And it wouldn't be easy…"

Marinette nodded.

"...But I dunno," he sighed, shifting his gaze. "Part of me thinks we could make it work."

Allowing the thought to process, Marinette tapped her finger along the aged paneling of the roof they sat upon, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip as she sought a reply.

Would they be able to make it work?

After all, she'd been thinking about moving out of the bakery soon due to space, and she didn't like the idea of living alone either... And Alya was already sharing an apartment with Nino in California because of his record deal, so that wouldn’t be plausible.

What if… What if they could make this work?

No, it’s a terrible idea, she told herself, nearly rolling her eyes at her impulsiveness. It would never work.

But if it did...

"Maybe," Marinette said, a hint of humor in her voice. "But we'd be together all the time, and I can't exactly picture myself cooking dinner wearing a skin-tight suit. Even if it would protect me from burns."

Chat supplied a small snort of laughter at her statement. "I guess that's a bonus. Would living together be so weird, though?"

Marinette opened her mouth to answer with a "yes, of course!" , but paused as she couldn't exactly find an explanation for why it would be so odd for them to live together under those circumstances. Sure, it'd feel a bit off to walk around an apartment with her suit on, but Marinette was used to wearing polka-dots for long hours. She felt more natural in her transformation than she ever had seven years prior when she was fourteen, freshly new to the world of superheroes and saving the city, and for a brief second, the thought that maybe Chat's idea wasn't such a stupid one danced through her head.

It would be a hell of a lot more convenient for both of them. They wouldn't have to worry about when the other would show up during akuma attacks or struggle to go through a battle alone while one of them was on their way.

(Or, on the rare occurrence that a certain Ladybug slept through the akuma alarms during a rather difficult attack, Chat Noir wouldn’t have to suffer through another hour of holding a violet butterfly in his paws and panicking over what he should do with it.)

A small grin twitched at the corner of Marinette's mouth before a second thought passed her mind, causing the hint of a smile to fall.

She knew Chat Noir was dying to get out of his house. Twenty-one years old and still suffocating under the watchful eye of his parents (parent?), Chat often expressed his sorrows about his home life with a forlorn sigh. Though he never delved too deeply into personal details, Marinette could tell just by the carefully worded sentences that he had difficulty staying happy in the house he'd lived in since he was a baby.

And although she couldn't relate, Marinette did feel for her friend. There were often times when she had considered begging Tikki to let them reveal their identities to each other just so she could take Chat Noir to the bakery and gift him a place to live that he looked forward to coming home to.

(Too many nights had she found Chat patrolling the city when there hadn't been a scheduled patrol, after all.)

And now the words were on the tip of her tongue, the confirmation she knew her partner was secretly hoping for even though he was writing it off as a joke. A joke that tugged at his lips in a sort of dejected smile that did not— would not—reach his eyes.

"I wonder how that would work," Marinette whispered, eyes falling to the city streets below. Cars trailed lazily down the two-way street in a pale river of yellow lights. "Maybe we could make it work."

One of Chat's velvet ears twitched against his hair. His eyes met hers for a fleeting moment. Even in the second of shared eye contact, Marinette could see the tiny spark of hope that glowed within them, and she couldn't stop the smile that began to spread across her face.

Maybe they could move in together. Sure, she'd have to talk to Tikki about it first, and they'd have to find an inconspicuous apartment in the middle of the city together, and it wouldn't be easy…

But...

But... No. That was just silly.

It was a silly, silly idea. It wouldn't work out. How would they keep their identities secret? How would they be able to live life as normal civilians and go about their daily duties—work, university, grocery shopping—without revealing themselves?

You'll never know until you try, a little voice peeped in the back of Marinette's mind. What could be so bad about it?

What could be so bad? Well, they could accidentally come home destransformed, or sleepwalk in their pajamas, or both walk up to the front door at the same time without their suits on, or, or-

Or... What?

All of those situations could easily be avoided. They could set rules. Marinette could make masks so they wouldn't have to be transformed constantly, or they could turn out the lights now and then. Or they could set specific days to stay transformed so they could hang out.

Huh... The whole idea was beginning to seem much more straightforward than it had three minutes ago.

Yeah, Marinette replied to the earlier thought, what could be so bad?

She knew of plenty of things that could be bad, as her anxiety had ways of creating the most outlandish situations. For now, however, she ignored them.

Looking over to Chat Noir, Marinette smiled, giving his back (which was slumped over sadly) a gentle pat. He responded by sitting up straight, a question on his lips and hope in his gaze, ears perked up in interest. They stared at each other for a breath or two before Marinette exploded into a fit of laughter. Her stomach clenched with the force of it.

Chat flinched at first, obviously surprised by her sudden outburst, but a second later, he joined her in the ocean of giggles that had flooded between them. His smile was so wide that Marinette could see the white glint of his teeth and lovely crinkles around his eyes, as well as the shake of his shoulders and a single tear—whether it be from laughter or relief—that slid down his cheek.

And that was how a month later, Marinette Dupain-Cheng—Ladybug—twenty-one-year-old baker's daughter found herself transformed and heaving box after box into a two-bedroom apartment smack dab in the middle of Paris with Chat Noir trailing just a step behind her, placing a few of his boxes on the wide, empty floor.

It had been a crazy, crazy idea.

But sometimes, Marinette knew, the craziest ideas were the best of them all.

Chapter Text

Telling her parents she was ready to move out was the easy part.

The look on Tom and Sabine's faces had been proud yet somber when Marinette sat them down and confessed that she'd been thinking about becoming more independent. Although she did relish the love that her parents showered upon her day by day and adored the cozy familiarity of her childhood home, Marinette knew life would be easier on her own.

(Well, as "on her own" as she could get living with her magical, spandex-clad superhero of a partner.)

Still, over the years, dashing back and forth as Ladybug had become a problem. While her parents did go to bed rather early, they were delicate sleepers and woke from the slightest of noises. Prancing around the city all night and doing flips on her balcony (and accidentally smashing a potted plant or two in her landings) was a quick way to give them a startling awakening.

And, while they mostly allowed Marinette her privacy, they were a bit...invasive. So invasive at times that she had just destransformed by the skin of her teeth before they'd crashed through her trapdoor as if a fire was burning in the kitchen, just to see how their precious daughter was doing.

It wasn't that she was ungrateful. Marinette loved her parents dearly and couldn't imagine life without them. She just...needed some personal space.

"So you're really moving out?" Sabine asked as they shared dinner at their table, Marinette poking at her food with her fork. "Are you at least going to stay close?"

"Of course," Marinette replied. She gave her mother a reassuring look and laid a hand over her own. "I won't go far, maman. Probably no more than thirty minutes away."

Tom and Sabine shared a concerned look. With a heavy sigh, Marinette's father patted her back and gave her a warm, encouraging smile. "Well, if this is what you want, we'll support it. We can even help you buy for some furniture and necessities, if you'd like."

Marinette beamed at her father's offer and immediately jumped out of her seat to wrap him in the biggest bear hug her tiny body could manage. "I would really appreciate it," she said, voice muffled as she buried her face in Tom's chest. "You guys are the best, you know that?"

Sabine laughed. "Oh, we know. There's a reason you grew up so great, Marinette."

Marinette giggled at her mother's comment and went to hug her as well, happy that breaking the news to them had gone smoothly. Part of her had been afraid that it would upset them and they would beg her to stay, but deep down she knew that her parents weren't like that. They wanted to support her and cheer her on in any way they could, and even if she wished to live on her own, they would still shower her with unadulterated love as they had since the day she was born.

"So," Tom began as Marinette returned to her seat, and they resumed their dinner. "Were you planning on looking for a roommate or living alone?"

Marinette's eyes widened a fraction. Shoot, well...she hadn't exactly expected them to ask her that before she'd figured out a way to explain the Chat Noir situation. "Um," she said. "Well...I have. I know Alya and I always had plans to move in together when we were teenagers, but since she's living in California with Nino for his record deal for a while, that's out the window."

"Why not one of your other friends?" Sabine asked.

"I was thinking of moving in with one of my friends from…" Marinette's mind hit a blank. From what? She only knew Chat Noir from her superhero life, not her civilian one. "From, uh- from university. Or just looking around for anyone needing a roommate, you know?"

It would be easier to play it off as if Chat Noir was just someone she had met in one of her classes instead of a longtime friend her parents knew, lest they wanted to ask them personally about the living situation. "I'm not sure yet. I know bills will be tough, but I have a job now," she said. "I think I'll be okay for the most part."

"We hope so," Tom said, worry briefly flashing in his gaze. "If anything goes wrong, we'll be here to help you out. Don't be afraid to ask if you need it."

Sabine nodded. "That's right. If you're ever short on rent or need some time away from your place or anything-"

"I know," Marinette said with a grateful chuckle. "You'll be there for me. Thank you, maman. Thank you, Papa. I meant it when I said you guys are the best parents a girl could ask for."

Tom patted her on the back. "And you're the best daughter parents could dream of. Now, tell us what kind of place you're looking for."

"I don't know what you're thinking, Marinette," Tikki chided, tiny arms crossed over her chest. "You and Chat Noir are supposed to keep your identities a secret for your safety, and here you are planning to move in with him?"

Marinette frowned at her computer screen as she clicked the "next" button on a page of available apartments in her area. "I never said we had to reveal ourselves."

"Marinette…" Tikki sighed. "You know I have your best intentions in mind, and I love you, but I can't hold your transformation all day and night. That would be exhausting and, frankly, quite dangerous."

"You wouldn't have to hold the transformation that long." Standing from her chair, Marinette walked over to the far side of her desk and opened one of the drawers, pulling out two pieces of stretchy-looking fabric. One was as black as the night sky, and the other was red adorned with inky spots. "See? I was going to make masks for us."

Tikki still seemed very uncomfortable with the idea, her antennae twitching reluctantly. "I trust you, Marinette, but...are you sure about this?"

Marinette snorted as she laid the fabric down. "To be honest, I'm not. But I know right now that life would be ten times easier if Chat and I lived independently. You know he's got a bad home life, Tikki...and I can tell by the way he acts that he needs to get out of there as soon as he can. Besides…" A sigh fell from her lips. "How many times have we almost been caught here? I love my parents, but it's hard to hide things from them."

"So long as you know what you're doing," Tikki said. "I have faith you will make the right decision in the end."

"Thank you, Tikki." With a kiss to the kwami's head, Marinette sat back down and resumed browsing. Some apartments were far too small for two people and came with outrageous expenses, and some were gigantic, with rent so low that it was concerning—a sign that the place perhaps wasn't in great shape. There were gorgeous apartments for great prices, but didn't allow any space for she and Chat Noir to safely detransform or even to be themselves—i.e., cramped.

Marinette knew what she was looking for. Someplace with enough space for two people with separate lives, that wasn't overly expensive and offered them safe places to rid their transformations, all the while being towards the center of the city just in case an akuma attacked.

With a heavy groan, Marinette slumped onto her desk, flipping through page after page after page. She was too indecisive for this. If she was going to go apartment hunting, she needed Chat Noir—her roommate—by her side. He needed a say in where they lived as well; even if she knew he didn't mind the location all that much, so long as he had somewhere to go.

Sending the links of appealing apartments to her phone, Marinette stood and shut down her computer. She needed to transform and figure this out with Chat. It was just too difficult to decide on her own, especially considering she didn't know his budget or how they would handle paying for things.

Before they decided anything, they needed to have a talk.

Marinette was lucky to find Chat Noir sitting atop Notre Dame, his legs dangling over the edge and tail swinging idly in the evening breeze. The sun was just beginning to set, leaving a bright, orange glow over the indigo horizon of the city. Clouds rolled lazily in the sky. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower sparkled gold. It was all a beautiful sight, and Marinette would have reveled in it—if it wasn't for a beam of setting sun that bounced off of the metal of Chat Noir's tail and shone right into her eyes.

"Ugh, Chat, put that tail away," she laughed as she put an arm over her mask, having landed right next to him. "You've blinded me."

"That wasn't my tail, my Lady," Chat replied with a chuckle. He smirked, his teeth glinting in the low light. "That was my beauty. Striking, isn't it?"

With a snort and a roll of her eyes, Marinette sat down next to him. "Can we talk?"

Chat Noir blew his bangs out of his eyes as a breeze passed. "Sure. About what?"

"The whole, um, 'living together' thing," she said with an awkward shrug of her shoulders. "You know I was serious about it when I said we could, right?"

Immediately sitting bolt upright, Chat Noir's eyes widened comically. "Wait, what? No way!"

"Yes, way." Laughing, Marinette nudged her partner's side with her elbow. "What, you thought I was joking?"

Chat looked away. "Maybe…"

"I brought my phone to show you some of the apartments I was looking at. I wasn't sure what your budget was so I found some that were in good shape, had good reviews and weren't too expensive." Taking her phone from the string around her waist, Marinette unlocked it, thankful that her background was a picture of a cute cat rather than a selfie with Alya or something. "Do you want to see?"

Chat Noir was silent.

Looking at him, Marinette frowned, the brow of her mask quirking in confusion. He looked frozen, his eyes round and full of surprise. After a moment, he shook his head—as if to clear his thoughts—and nodded furiously, scooting up to her so close that their shoulders brushed and his head nudged right up in her personal space. Marinette clicked her tongue with a smile.

She opened up the first link, showing him a relatively small two-bedroom apartment that had a decent kitchen and a bright living room with large windows and a balcony overlooking the Seine. "I know we should look at places in person when we're really deciding, but I found a few that seem nice for the time being." She swiped through the photos, smiling as Chat marveled at the interior. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, a little too quickly, "it's just...I can't believe we're actually doing this. Like, we're going to have a place of our own, just...j-just you, and uh, me."

Marinette nodded.

"You know," Chat continued. "It'll be just us living together. Alone. I've never spent so much time with you before, and I'm just really happy to finally be able to get out of my current situation, to be on my own, and- and it's- it's exciting. Sorry." His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and Marinette patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"Don't apologize," she said. "I'm excited, too. I've wanted to become independent for a while now, and I'd rather move in with somebody I'm comfortable with than a stranger."

Chat hesitated, looking away. "But- but aren't I a stranger?"

Marinette shook her head, turning her head to gaze up at him in surprise. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, I mean, we know each other, but at the same time...we don't, do we?" Chat Noir's ears drooped at the question, and Marinette immediately caught on to what he was really asking.

"I talked to Tikki," she said after a second of silence, lowering her phone to her lap as the screen timed out. "She basically told me that it still isn't a good idea to reveal ourselves."

"I don't get it," Chat said. "If we're moving in together, then why—?"

Marinette shrugged, feeling a tad dejected. "I sort of understand. She feels it's for our safety. You know, if we knew each other and somehow that information got out...Papillon could target one of us in our civilian forms, and then we'd be screwed. We could really get hurt."

"I guess." A frown tugged at Chat Noir's lips. "Plagg says the same stuff. They do kind of have a point, but...still…"

"I know," Marinette sighed. "I know. I feel the same way."

Leaning back on the palms of his hands, Chat swayed his legs over the edge of the church roof, his expression contemplative. "How are we supposed to live together if we can't reveal ourselves? We'd be transformed day and night. I don't know about you, but this suit isn't exactly comfortable to sleep in."

"We wouldn't have to be transformed at night if we had our own rooms," Marinette said. "That way, we'd have privacy and could just be ourselves when needed."

"It still seems complicated."

"I know, but I did have a few other ideas."

One of Chat's ears twitched in interest. "Like what?"

"Well," Marinette said. "For one, we could use masks, you know? Like handmade Ladybug and Chat Noir masks at home, so we could wear our normal clothes but still keep our identities secret. You could even wear little ears. Also, we could have certain outfits that we only wear at our place and not out anywhere else, so the secret stays safe."

"Oh," Chat Noir breathed. He was quiet momentarily, brows furrowed as he lost himself deep in thought. Marinette was almost afraid he wouldn't say anything more, but then he smiled, his mouth stretching across his face in a wide, excited grin. "You know what, 'Bug? This could actually work!"

Marinette nodded enthusiastically. "I did talk to my parents about it today, too," she mentioned. "They're all for it. They said they would help with furniture and stuff if we get someplace unfurnished."

"That's nice," Chat said. "It's unfortunate I can't meet them to give them my thanks. Won't that concern them, though? That they'd never meet me? Unless you lied and said you're there alone, but it might be obvious you're living with someone else."

With a shrug, Marinette smiled. "I'm sure I can make up some excuse why my elusive roommate is never home. Works nights, sleeps days...maybe has business across town...I'm very creative."

Chat feigned a gasp. "You would lie to your beloved parents, my Lady?"

"It's a simple white lie," she chuckled. "And even though I hate lying, I don't know how they'd react to learning that their daughter is Ladybug and is living with Chat Noir. It's safer that way."

"I suppose you're right."

"What about your parents?"

Chat Noir blinked, looking up with a frown. "Huh?"

"Your parents," Marinette repeated. "Have you mentioned anything to them? Do you think they would be okay with it?"

"Um." Ears drooping, Chat Noir immediately looked away, staring downcast towards the Seine. Something in his demeanor changed, and Marinette instantly regretted ever opening her mouth. "My dad isn't really...around. And my mom isn't…" he shook his head, unable to complete the sentence. "I don't think my dad would care all that much. I mean, he loves me, but he doesn't really show it, you know? Plus, I'm ready to be independent. He'll understand that, I'm sure…"

Marinette's lips tugged downwards, and she wrapped an arm around her partner's form, resting her head on his shoulder in a silent comfort. They sat like that for a minute or two until Marinette's phone buzzed from a text from Alya. The screen lighting up nearly blinded the pair. "Sorry," she apologized, ignoring the message for now. It was just a simple greeting; nothing important enough to warrant her texting in front of her partner. "You going to be okay, Chat?"

Chat Noir nodded. Sitting up straight, he gave her a small grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "'Course, my Lady. This cat's perfect."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay," Marinette said, still unconvinced. "Did you- did you, um, want to still look at apartments? I've got a few more links here."

With a new light in his eyes, Chat Noir scooted closer. "Sure," he said. "I'd be more than happy to."

Marinette unlocked her phone. "Some of these are a little expensive, so let me know if-"

"Don't want to sound like an ass," Chat cut in, a sheepish smile on his face. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "But...money isn't really a problem for me, so...don't be intimidated by price if the place is good."

"Oh," Marinette said. Hmm. Okay. That was a new detail. Apparently, Chat Noir had just hinted at the fact that he was loaded, and despite his wishes, it definitely made him sound like an ass.

"Well," she continued. "I hope you know you'll not be the only one paying for expenses, even if you've got money. I want to help with the bills, too."

Chat, whose cheeks were reddening, let out a strained sort of laugh. He shifted, eyes darting to the city below. It was as if he was shy all of a sudden, which was really odd, considering most of the time, Marinette was sure he had nothing but flirty cat puns in his vocabulary. "Are you sure, Buginette?"

She regarded him with a stern look. "I'm serious. I don't want you paying for everything, Chat Noir. That's unfair. We can split the costs."

Chat Noir hummed. He still seemed reluctant to her proposal, which managed to get under her skin just a tad. Why wouldn't he want her to help out? How rich was this guy? What the hell did he do for a living?

Sure, Marinette was by no means wealthy herself, but she made enough at her retail job to be able to be able to afford rent and buy groceries. She wasn't bad off in the slightest. "Kitty, c'mon, don't be ridiculous."

"If you insist," he sighed with a smirk, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her close. His head rested atop her shoulder, and he buried his face within her neck, his messy hair tickling her skin. "I kind of wish we had that apartment already. I'm so tired, my Lady, and you are sooo warm. Like a little bug-heater."

"Off," she demanded gently. Chat listened, smiling while he scooted away. "No hugs. Apartment searching."

Chat Noir laughed. "As you wish."

As Marinette swiped through photos, she tapped a finger to her lips, pondering a question that had nagged at the back of her mind since Chat had first thought up the crazy idea. "I can't help but wonder, though...how would we sign a lease without using our civilian names?"

Chat frowned at that. "Oh, hell. I hadn't thought about it."

"Do you think we could use our initials?" Marinette found herself asking. She wasn't sure if that would get them off the hook of using their full names, but it was worth a shot. "That way, we aren't revealing ourselves and can still legally rent a place. I'm sure plenty of people in Paris whose names start and end with the same letters mine do."

Humming thoughtfully, Chat Noir pressed a hand to his chin, mulling over the notion. "That could work...though I say, we should definitely do some heavy research before we make any final decisions."

Marinette laughed. Setting her phone to the side, she leaned back into her partner and placed her hands in her lap, eyes trained on the midnight sky above. "I'm so new to this. Here I am wanting to be independent and stuff and I don't even have a clue where to start. I barely know a thing about getting my own place."

"Don't worry." Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Chat joined her in her giggles. "You're not the only one feeling that way. But hey, we'll figure this out together like always, right?" He held up his fist with a confident smile on his face, his intention clear.

Marinette responded with a grin and bumped her knuckles against his own. "Of course, chaton. That's why we make such a great team."

What Marinette had imagined would take up to thirty minutes had lasted hours. She and Chat looked over apartment after apartment, place after place, until the moon rose high in the sky and the city calmed to a rest. The had night stretched until the wee hours of the morning, and as she finally crawled into her bed feeling exhausted, Marinette buried her face within her pillow. She silently willed her transformation to drop; Tikki floated down to her pillow. Both of them were too tired to stay awake much longer.

While she and Chat Noir hadn't settled on a single place, they had decided between two. One apartment was a little bit away from central Paris, but had great space; two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a decent sized kitchen and a cozy living room that led out to a garden terrace. Marinette had been excited about that part. Ever since she was young, she'd enjoyed growing flowers on her own, and was elated at the prospect of still being able to care for plants even as she moved to a new place.

The only downside was that the price was higher than she was willing, which meant that Chat Noir might just have to pay a little extra. But she knew he wouldn't mind all that much if the apartment really made her happy. Still...it did make her feel guilty. Marinette wanted their expenses to be equal. They were a team, after all—even regarding bills.

The other apartment was small and confined, but the price was just in her budget. It had two bedrooms—one a tad smaller than the other—and one bathroom. The kitchen was tiny but doable, and the living room was bright, decorated by large windows that allowed natural light to stream from the sun. It was also smack-dab in the center of the city.

As Marinette lay in bed, she let out a heavy sigh, contemplating over what was more important: comfort and space, or staying within her budget?

"Marinette, you should sleep," Tikki said, quietly. "You're making yourself nervous. Everything will work out, okay?"

With a nod, Marinette breathed out a long, tired breath and allowed her muscles to relax. Tikki was right. She'd had a long day, and right now, all she wanted to do was sleep. She and Chat Noir would figure this out tomorrow. Although, if his word was final say, Marinette could already which place he would choose.

With thoughts of sunlight and garden terraces dancing in her mind, Marinette finally drifted off into a well-deserved rest, worries slipping from her mind and body at peace.

Chapter Text

"You're what!?"

Marinette winced at the loud tone of her best friend's voice. Smiling meekly at Alya's face on the screen of her laptop, she nodded. "Yep. I'm...I'm moving out. Soon, actually."

"How soon?" Alya asked. She sat in her and Nino's little bedroom in the apartment they rented in southern California clad in orange fox pajamas, stuffing a bite of her breakfast into her mouth. Marinette chuckled at the sight of her best friend with her curly hair up in a bun and a half-eaten omelet sitting on the desk in front of her. While it was only eight A.M. in California, it was already dinner time in Paris.

"Probably in less than a month," Marinette replied. Pausing to add lace to a design she was sketching, she smiled, listening to Alya congratulate her from miles and miles away. "I think I've decided on the place, too. It's a little away from central Paris but it's roomy and-"

Alya grinned through a mouthful of food. "Do you have any pictures?"

Marinette nodded and opened up her web browser. "Yeah, I've got the website right here. Want me to send it?"

"Duh."

Sending the link through chat, Marinette blew her bangs out of her face and leaned back in her chair, lifting her sketchbook up to look over the design. It was supposed to be a ladybug-patterned sundress she would wear around the house, but something was off... "Let me know what you think."

Alya went quiet for a moment. Marinette could see on her screen that her friend was looking at something on her own computer, and after about a minute of scrutinizing, Alya's eyes widened comically.

"What?" Marinette asked.

"Um…well, for starters, it's a super cute place. Suits you. I could totally see you living in an apartment like that." Alya sat back in her rolling chair and offered an uncomfortable frown. "But, no offense, Mars...nearly three thousand euros a month just for rent? How in the hell are you going to afford that along with utilities and food and stuff?"

Marinette looked away. Right. She'd forgotten to mention that she might be living with someone else.

(Oh god, Alya was going to kill her when she found out that she was going to live with a guy she'd never met!)

"Well…" Marinette said, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger. "I've already found myself a roommate."

Alya nearly choked on the last bite of her omelet. "What? Who is it?"

Marinette blanked.

How in the world would a person go about explaining her situation? She couldn't just say, "I don't know, he's Chat Noir and his identity eludes me, oh by the way I'm Ladybug so I trust him," could she?

"Um." Marinette blinked. "A friend."

Both girls went completely silent. Marinette's cheeks flushed involuntarily and she wasn't even sure why. What was the reason for feeling embarrassed?

Alya leaned closer to the screen and gripped the sides of her laptop. Her eyes burned with questions, and her face was frozen in a serious expression—one that made Marinette slightly frightened of her fate. "Girl," Alya said, voice calm. "In the past year I've been away did you get a secret boyfriend that you haven't told me a single thing about? Because if you did oh my god I don't know what I'd do-"

Marinette's jaw dropped. "N-no!" she squeaked. "No, Alya, I'm single. He's not my boyfriend! He's just a friend and I-"

"So it is a he?"

"What does that matter? You know I'm not straight!"

"Well-!" Alya held up a finger and paused. "You're bi. So it could still be a secret boyfriend."

Marinette buried her face within her palm and snorted. "Alya, oh my god. I do not have a secret boyfriend or girlfriend or datefriend or anything. He's just...he's just a friend I've known for a while. You don't know him."

At least, Marinette assumed she didn't. How could she? It was Chat Noir, not a friend from collége or something. Just Chat. Her other best friend. The one person she trusted with her life and the only person she could imagine herself one hundred percent comfortable living with. Besides Alya and her parents, of course.

"I'm offended I haven't heard anything about him," Alya said. She rested her back against the chair and crossed her arms, a playful smile on her face. "What's his name?"

"Cha-" Marinette clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip before she let "Chat Noir" slip from her clumsy mouth. "Chaaaaa….Shhhaaaa...Chad."

Alya cocked her head to the side. "That's an odd name. Is he American?"

"Yes," Marinette answered without any second thought whatsoever. "Moved here...last year."

God, if this ever got back to Chat he'd never stop laughing. It would be a mix of both hilarity and humiliation. At least him "moving to Paris a year ago" was a valid excuse for Alya not to have met him.

"What's he look like?" Alya asked. She stood from her chair to get dressed and threw her pajama shirt onto her and Nino's bed—who was conveniently out of the room—and Marinette was met with an eyeful of her best friend's bare chest.

"Alya!" Marinette laughed. She cupped a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes. "What are you doing?"

Alya's voice rang distantly through the laptop speakers. "Um, I'm getting dressed? Nino and I are actually going to spend the day together for once since he's not working. He's gonna be home any minute and I wanna look cute. Why are your eyes closed? You've seen me naked before. Need I remind you that we've been best friends for seven years and have undressed in front of each other plenty of times?"

Marinette chuckled, eyes still shut. "I'm trying to be polite here."

"Yeah, yeah. Girl's polite and all, whatever."

After a few minutes of shuffling and other related noises, Alya plopped herself back down into her computer chair and Marinette finally opened her eyes to see her friend in a red flannel and jeans. She watched as Alya friend ran a brush through her curly red hair, and grinned when she tugged on a knot. A giggle bubbled from her lips as Alya cursed at the hair brush as if it was at fault for the discomfort.

Once the monster of her hair had been tamed, Alya set the brush down on her desk and scooted the dirtied plate from breakfast to the side. "You didn't answer my question, Marinette."

Marinette resumed her sketching. It was best to act nonchalant. "What question?"

"I asked what M. Mysterious Roommate looked like."

"Oh."

Well that was certainly a question Marinette hadn't been prepared to answer. Chat Noir was…hm.

Chat was something. Blond with green eyes, tannish skin, tall and skinny like a professional model; skin-tight suit as black as the night; perfect white teeth and a smile as wide as the sun.

Ugh, but that all sounded so fake. What features could she possibly describe without sounding like she was talking about a character from a young adult novel or a celebrity, for crying out loud?

Glancing up at her laptop screen, Marinette ripped the failed design out of her sketchbook and crumpled it within her hand. So much for that dress. It would get redone later. "He's, um...blond. Green eyes. Wears a lot of black? Pretty skinny…"

"Sounds kinda emo," Alya said.

Marinette squawked out a surprised laugh and began a new sketch on a clean page. "He's not emo!"

"How old is he?"

"Twenty-one." It was one of the only pieces of personal information Marinette had learned about her partner.

"Aw, same age," Alya cooed.

Marinette gave a playful roll of her eyes. It was always like Alya to tease. That was just how she showed her love.

"What kinda stuff does he like?" Alya asked.

The lead of her pencil snapped, and Marinette cursed. "The same kind of stuff I do, I guess? Video games, art, staying up late…he really likes puns, and cats. Oh god, he loves cats. They're like his whole life. He's practically obsessed."

"So he's a furry?"

"No! Oh my god, Alya-"

Alya turned her head to the side as the sound of keys jingling in a door came from another room. "Nino's home," she said, enthusiasm in her voice. "I'll talk to you later, okay Mari? Love you!"

Giving a wave, Marinette returned the sentiment and went to end the call, but-

"Oh!" Alya exclaimed as she threw her purse over her shoulder. Marinette's hand stilled atop her mouse. "I forgot to tell you! Nino and I are coming back to Paris for a visit in a few months! I can meet your roomie. He sounds cute. We should all hang out and get drinks or something."

Excitement flared up within Marinette's chest before she froze.

Oh, shit, she thought, mind reeling, heart pounding, eyes the size of the moon. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! We can't do that!

How in the world would she break the news to Alya that she couldn't meet her roommate because he was, dunno, Chat Noir? Savior of Paris? The number one flirt in the whole city (she assumed)? Ladybug's most trusted partner and friend?

"Uh…" Marinette blanched. Blinking, she shook her head and forced a toothy grin to her face, nodding a bit too vigorously to be entirely convincing. "S-sure, Alya! Sounds fun. I'm so looking forward to see you again!"

"Kisses!" Blowing a kiss to the screen, Alya reached out and ended the call. The screen switched back to the text chat they'd started up an hour ago.

Well.

This was bad.

Marinette's heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest. While she was beyond elated to see her best friend in person again, the fact that Alya wanted to hang out with her and her roommate—Chat Noir—was immeasurably concerning. After all, nobody could find out Marinette was Ladybug, just like nobody could find out Ladybug was Marinette, and the thought that the whole idea altogether was spiralling into an absolute mess made her want to run and hide and- and- she didn't know!

"Tikki," she breathed after a moment. Her head felt heavy and her stomach felt sick. Grabbing a pillow from her side, Marinette stuffed her face within it and screamed. "We're so screwed."

"I'm beginning to think this is a bad idea."

Adrien snapped his head up from the roof he'd been lying on and regarded his partner with a startled frown. Her face was scrunched up with worry under the low light of the evening sun, and her gaze was thoughtful as wisps of black hair kissed her cheeks in the faint breeze. He raised a brow as she nibbled on her lower lip. She appeared to be nervous...but why? What was causing her to be so distraught?

"Bad idea?" Adrien asked. "What's a bad idea?"

Ladybug loosened her messy hair from her ponytail before fixing it and attempting to put it up again. It took her a few tries, which was unusual; it wasn't like Ladybug to have trouble with such a simple task unless something was really bothering her. "Us. Moving in together," she said, voice quiet. "It might not be too great of an idea."

Adrien's heart sank like a brick hitting the bottom of the Seine. Ouch. Okay, so...they weren't doing this now? The past three days of planning and talking and figuring it all out had been for nothing? But they'd both been so excited! He'd been so happy to think about the possibility of moving out...being on his own...away from his father's eye...

After a moment of internal deliberation, "Oh," was all he could say.

"Don't get me wrong," Ladybug said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I want to more than anything. But everything right now is looking so...difficult. And I'm starting to think it might not work out."

"It's not like you to give up so easily," Adrien said. He turned to face his Lady and cocked his head to the side, hoping the hurt didn't show on his face. "What's worrying you? You can talk to me about it, Buginette."

A chilly gust of wind blew past them, giving the air an icy tinge to it. A minute passed, then two, and Adrien was beginning to think Ladybug was going to leave his question unanswered before she finally found the courage to speak.

"I'm just fretting over stuff that doesn't need to be fretted about," she said, sounding defeated. Lowering her head, Ladybug examined her fingers, as if she were trying to find something other than the current subject to focus on. "You know how I get sometimes…"

Adrien hummed thoughtfully. There had to be something rooted within her that was causing her to feel anxiety over the notion of them moving in together. Something was bothering her, something recent, and he wanted to find out what. A calm Ladybug was a happy Ladybug. Poor 'Bug got stressed out so easily these days and he wished he knew why.

Giving his partner a reassuring smile, Adrien patted her back. "Tell me what's bothering you, L.B."

Ladybug was silent for what felt like ages—which in reality was only a minute tops—before she let out a breath she'd been holding and submitted. "I had a video call with a friend in America today. She's flying in a few months from now for a visit and wants to meet you."

Oh. Well, that was definitely a problem. Adrien could see why something like that would bother her.

"But she can't," he said. Ladybug nodded in agreement.

"No, she can't. And she's not the only one who will want to meet you. I mean, I don't know how my parents would react to learning they'll never see you—probably not well—and I have other friends who'll want to visit." She laid back against the roof and stared up at the sky. "I'm scared we won't be able to work around that and someone, someday, is going to find out who we are. On accident. And it'll be a huge mess."

Ah. Ladybug was worried about people discovering her identity. That's what this was all about.

"Don't worry, 'Bug," Adrien said as he lay back with her. Their shoulders brushed, and he allowed himself a twinge of delight at the touch. "We've kept our identities safe for seven years now. We're good with that stuff. I'm sure our friends won't find out so easily. Not if I have anything to say about it."

"How do you know for sure?" Ladybug asked. She fiddled with her gloves and nibbled on her bottom lip in a way that shouldn't have been absolutely endearing.

Feeling his lips curl upwards into a smile, Adrien reached out and placed a hand over her own, hoping to calm her nerves. He gave her knuckles a squeeze, and Ladybug responded with a turn of her head. Her eyes sparkled curiously.

"What's on your mind, Chat?" she asked, allowing him to hold her hand for longer than he'd anticipated.

Adrien grinned. What was on his mind?

Even when she was lost in her anxieties, Ladybug was beautiful. There was no denying that. Her bluebell eyes, the way her dark hair had grown down to her lower back, her voice and freckles and how she always knew what to do. Her bravery, her stubbornness, her fiery personality and her absolute everything…

Ugh. He was so far gone. So gone to the point that he'd drowned in Ladybug and never felt the need to breach for air.

"Nothing about how you're the most gorgeous person I've ever met," he said. Ladybug clicked her tongue and pulled her hand away; Adrien mourned the loss of her warmth. "And I was absolutely not thinking about how I'd love to spend the rest of my life with you."

Sitting up, Ladybug sighed restlessly. "Not now, Chat Noir. Stop flirting."

Oh, well. It was worth a shot. Didn't stop him from loving her. Her feelings were more important at the moment, however, just like they always were to him, so the compliments and affections could wait for a better time.

"You okay?" Adrien asked, sitting up with her. "You seem really on edge."

"I'm just so worried," Ladybug whimpered. Her voice cracked, and Adrien felt a deep pang of sympathy. "I'm scared we're going to screw up really bad, like what if one of us sleepwalks when another is awake and we're not wearing masks or we come home at the same time or accidentally see each other when we do, or if something terrible happens to either of us-"

Adrien sat down in front of his Lady and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Woah, hey," he said, tone calm; soothing. "It's okay, Ladybug. We'll be alright. There are plenty of ways to prevent accidental reveals, okay? Trust me. We're gonna be extra careful, and we're gonna be okay. I know that. We're gonna be okay."

"I don't know if I can go through with this."

Scratching at the back of his neck, Adrien frowned. Ladybug had a tendency to be overdramatic and blow things out of proportion from time to time, but hopefully she wasn't saying that she wanted to eradicate the idea altogether. It had already been three days since they had decided they would be officially moving in together...which was plenty of time for them both to think things through and make a decision.

(Well, enough time for Adrien specifically to think about how much he couldn't wait to be closer to his partner.)

"Okay," he breathed, black ears drooping against his hair. He sat back beside her and his tail twitched in tune with his nerves. "If you're not comfortable with it, we can totally call it off-"

Ladybug shook her head. "It's not that I'm not comfortable with it," she said, her blue, blue eyes meeting Adrien's, "I'm more than okay with the thought of us living in the same space. The problem is how we're going to get to that stage. We've still got so much to figure out, and the whole 'can't reveal ourselves' thing is going to make it a whole lot harder."

With a thoughtful hum, Adrien nodded. Things were going to be incredibly tedious. They had a lot to discuss, and even more to think about. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, you're right..."

A heavy feeling of sadness washed over him.

Who were they kidding, thinking they could move in together at the drop of a hat? Both he and Ladybug knew that there would be trouble behind the idea, and a plethora of difficulties to overcome. At first, it had admittedly been a nice thought, living under the same roof as the girl he loved... But Adrien knew better. He didn't get that lucky.

No, luck was reserved for the Lady herself. But in this case it seemed that even she was getting the short end of the stick.

Still, it didn't stop Adrien from believing.

"We can figure it out," he said, voice full of what he hoped didn't sound like faux confidence. "If we can defeat akuma on a near daily basis, then we can find a way to get this to work, right? We're a team in and out of the masks."

"I hope so, Chat Noir," Ladybug said. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head upon them, eyes cast wistfully at the city below. "I haven't told anyone besides my parents and one friend that I plan on moving out yet. I don't know how I'm going to tell my other friends, because they're going to want to visit, and, well... They don't know I'm Ladybug."

Adrien hadn't really given any thought about friends visiting. What would he do if Nino randomly turned up to hang out and he and Ladybug were both home? Would she have to hide in her room the entire time—pretend she wasn't there? That would be tough, and unfair to his partner. It would be her place too, and Adrien didn't want to force her to stay locked in one room just because he had a guest.

"Maybe we can plan around it?" he offered, voice cracking slightly at the end of his question. "You know, make a day where I can hang out with my friends at our place, you can hang with yours... Whichever one of us has company gets a few hours alone at the apartment and the other can have a day out or something. I dunno."

A groan rose from beside him. Adrien looked over to see Ladybug throwing herself backwards against the panels of the roof with a soft clunk. "This is so hard," she whined, draping her forearm over her face. "Why can't stuff like this be easier? I just want to move in with my best friend. That's all I want."

Adrien smiled at his partner's dramatics and reached over to pat her on the shoulder with a chuckle in his throat. "We could just disobey our kwamis and drop the transformations right now and be done with it."

"Chat." Ladybug's expression flattened. She glowered at him from underneath her arm. "No way."

"Hey," he laughed with a shrug, "it was just a simple suggestion."

Standing up, he brushed his suit off and stretched, mouth opening in a wide yawn before he placed his hands on his hips and let his gaze fall down to the world below. Cars flowed down the street like a river of red and yellow beams. People walked along the sidewalk, entering and exiting shops left and right. In the distance, Adrien could see the Eiffel Tower's lights switch on just as the sky grew dark, and the sound of a jet zooming above caused his ears to twitch.

He needed to be heading home soon. He had a dinner with his father to attend to within an hour. The news of his leave had to be broken somehow, and he'd thought a peaceful dinner would be a nice way to ease into it. He'd admittedly been surprised his father had accepted his invitation for a "family dinner" on such short notice.

"You know," Adrien began. "I think we'll be okay, Ladybug. I know we have quite a bit of legal stuff to figure out, but what's a few signatures and adult conversations? In the end, it'll be worth it. We'll have our own place and be able to do whatever we want. I could eat cereal at four in the morning and nobody would judge me."

"I would," Ladybug snorted. She kicked her legs over the edge of the building and as her eyes met his, she blessed him with a smile. "I think we'll be okay, too. But I have this feeling that even though I am an adult, I'm not-" she paused to laugh, "-I'm definitely not ready to be one. How do I take care of a place that's mine? How do I handle that responsibility?"

"Same way you do now, I guess," Adrien said as he sat back down. "Wash the dishes after you use them, take out the trash every night, clean your room once a week and don't leave the oven on while you're out. That's what you do to keep a place clean and safe, right?"

Not that he would know. He'd had people to clean up after him all of his life.

(He was too embarrassed to admit that he had no idea how to use a washing machine.)

"I'm warning you now," Ladybug cautioned. "I'm going to set the apartment on fire. Whichever one we choose, it's going down in flames because of me. That or I'll flood the place."

Cocking one of his felt ears, Adrien laughed. So much for reassuring her. "Jeez, Buginette. Have some faith in yourself, okay? Also in me. I can totally keep you from igniting the kitchen or something."

"How? You have no idea how clumsy I am at times."

"I seem to recall that the first time we met, you called yourself maladroit after nearly giving me a concussion with your yo-yo."

Ladybug grinned as she playfully punched him in the side. "You shut your mouth."

"Meowch," Adrien snickered as he rubbed the spot she'd assaulted. Despite her best efforts to be gentle, it still hurt. "You know, I change my mind. I think living with you is gonna be unbearfurble. Absolutely catastrophic. Pawful. A hissterical-"

Ladybug buried her head within her palms and groaned. "Oh my god, one more pun and I'm going to punt you across the city, Chat Noir, I swear to god-"

"Wait," he pleaded, laughter in his voice. "One more, one more. It'll be appawling-"

Adrien squawked as Ladybug began to push him off of the edge of the roof. Oh, now he'd done it. He'd punned too much. He had punned one pun too many. Somehow, he had always known this was the way he would die: from puns. His fate was sealed. Done. Completed. Do not pass go, do not collect the twenty euro reward.

"Imagine the headlines," Adrien said, clapping a hand over his head dramatically as his partner attempted to throw him off of the music shop they'd been resting upon. "Paris' most beloved hero, Chat Noir, was murdered to death last night by renowned super-heroine Ladybug. He was thrown off a building around seven P.M.-"

"Murdered to death," Ladybug guffawed. She paused her attempts at homicide and placed her hands on her hips to squint up at him, chest heaving with laughter. "I'm pretty sure murder and death aren't mutually exclusive!"

"You would know," Adrien retorted with a toothy grin. "You're about to murder me."

(As if Ladybug would ever purposefully harm him.)

"Chat, this is only a two story building," Ladybug deadpanned. "Besides, you have your baton to break your fall. Also your fat ego."

"I take offense to that."

The heel of Adrien's boot slipped on the edge of the roof and he wobbled, teetering over the edge with his arms flailing. His heart leaped and he gasped, but just as he was about to fall Ladybug caught him by his bell. Adrien smirked down at her and felt a flutter in her chest as she returned the expression almost just as flirtatiously.

"How many times am I gonna save your ass, chaton?" Ladybug asked, slowly pulling him down by his bell so she could look him in the eye. "Isn't this the third time this week?"

Adrien's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He loved how she teased. Their faces were so close he could practically taste her breath on his lips.

Leaving her question unanswered, Adrien instead chose to grin as his reply. "To be fair, you were the one who attempted to murder me over too many puns."

Ladybug snickered. "I only dislike them because they're terrible. Now, if they were good puns, maybe I'd have a different mindset."

"You know," he said as Ladybug grasped what was essentially the zipper to his suit. "When we finally move into our place, I'm gonna get those magnetic fridge letters and wake up every morning around five A.M. to make a horrible cat pun out of them, just so you get to wake up to a new one every. Single. Day."

"You evil, evil boy," Ladybug snorted. She let go of his bell—which jingled merrily—and crossed her arms, sticking her tongue out in a very mature fashion. "I'll just take those puns and rearrange the letters to make bad words."

"Of course you would," Adrien said, to which Ladybug nodded proudly. "That's why I love you so much."

"Because I would make bad words out of other words?"

He booped her nose with the tip of his finger. "Because you're so creative."

"Stop." Ladybug waved his hand away. She feigned annoyance, but the smile on her face convinced Adrien she felt otherwise. "Shouldn't you be getting home? I thought you told me you had an important dinner with your dad to get to."

"I do," he admitted. "But can't I just enjoy my Lady's company for a moment longer?" Reaching out for her hand, he grabbed it within his own and nuzzled his face against her palm. Even through the fabric of her suit he could feel how warm her skin was. It felt so nice against his cheek… If only he could keep it there.

Ladybug pulled her hand back, pink lips stretched into a sweet smile. "Go on, kitty. Can't be late for dinner."

"Beautiful and punctual. You're out to steal my heart."

Ladybug rolled her eyes. "Leave already, fuzzbutt."

"I'm going, I'm going." Adrien blew her a kiss and stood, walking to the edge of the roof as he made to leave. He hopped onto the ledge, did an exuberant pose just to get some giggles out of his Lady, and extended his baton to his full height before bounding into the air.

Landing on the roof adjacent, he paused mid-crouch and froze as he remembered he'd had a very important question to ask before he left.

"Wait!" he called. He did a one-eighty and leaped right back next to Ladybug, who raised her brow at his speedy return. "I forgot to ask: did you decide between the two apartments yet?"

"Sort of," Ladybug said. She placed her yo-yo back on her waist, which she'd produced as soon as Adrien had left.

"Well?" Adrien asked. One of his black ears twitched with interest.

Ladybug's gaze fell downcast. "I know which one I want, but really, I don't want you paying more per month than I am, Chat-"

"Your happiness is important."

"I'd be happier if you weren't covering most of the rent."

"I honestly don't mind," Adrien assured her. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I prefer the bigger place too. I've kind of lived in a big house all of my life and to be honest, I would feel a little cramped in the cheaper apartment." He reached up to rub at the back of his neck. "But ultimately what I care about most is you being comfortable. If you feel you would be better off in the small place, then-"

"I don't know about the small place," Ladybug admitted, quite stubbornly. "Well, I mean I do, but it's just... We would have no room. And since we can't reveal ourselves we really need the space…"

"You've got your pouty face on," Adrien said. He smiled, offering a hand to help his Lady up onto the ledge. She took it and climbed up, but crossed her arms as soon as she righted herself and looked away with her lower lip jutted out.

"I am not pouty," she pouted.

Adrien poked her cheek. "C'mon, Mlle. Pouty Face...tell me the truth. What is it you really want?"

"Food," she muttered, not meeting his gaze. "It's past dinner time and you should be home with your dad."

Adrien laughed. Was she avoiding the subject?

"Besides food," he said. "Which apartment can you see yourself being happier in?"

Ladybug murmured something under her breath. She kicked a stray pebble off of the roof and turned her back to him.

"What was that?" Adrien asked.

She mumbled the same unintelligible reply as before. Her lips were sealed and the brow of her mask was lowered in irritation, and Adrien had to resist the urge to squeal at how absolutely adorable she was in that moment.

Oh, she was too damn cute. She was so cute when she pouted and she was so cute when she wanted something but was too embarrassed to say it.

Was it that hard to admit that she liked the spacious apartment more than the other? Because it was pretty easy for him. If only he could get it out of her.

"Bug-Bug," Adrien whined. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his chin upon her shoulder, head butting into her jaw. "Come on, you can tell me."

"Okayyyy," she admitted with a huff and a stomp of her foot. "Okay, okay. I like the expensive place better, okay? I just feel really bad because if I can't contribute as much as you can, then I-"

Walking around to face her, Adrien pressed a clawed finger to her lips and leaned down to her eye level. "Hey," he said. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Ladybug. If it's really bugging you that much-" he snorted as her expression soured at his pun, "-then we can figure something out. But have you made your decision? Because I've made mine."

Ladybug hesitated. She blinked, her gaze lowering to the floor...before she met his eyes and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I have."

"Good." Grabbing her hand, Adrien placed a kiss to her knuckles. "I've gotta go now, but tomorrow we can meet at the Tower and talk some more, okay? No matter what, the only thing that's important to me is your happiness. Even if we end up in a cramped, one-bedroom apartment with no heat, I'll be happy so long as you are."

Much to his delight, Ladybug blushed. "Fine," she said, looking away. "But we're meeting at six P.M. tomorrow on the dot, and we're going to figure this out. We're a team no matter what, right? Akuma fighting, apartment hunting...both deadly, deadly forces." Her lips quirked upwards into a smile. "I'm actually really excited."

"Me too, 'Bug," Adrien said. "Me too."

Ladybug pulled away from him and gave him a lighthearted shove. "Now go on," she said, grinning. "Go meet your dad and have some father-son bonding time. Talk about cats or Camembert or whatever it is you do."

"Wow," Adrien laughed. He grabbed his baton and gave her a wave. "I'll have you know that the Camembert isn't for me or my dad. It's for Plagg, and you know that."

"Tell Plagg I think he's gross."

"He'd take that as a compliment, Ladybug! You'll inflate his ego-filled head with that talk!"

Ladybug threw her head back with a chortle. "Go already! Your dad's gonna be sitting at wherever it is you live waiting on your slow butt!"

"Fine, fine." With a salute, Adrien extended his baton and prepared to leap. "Goodnight, my Lady. I'll see you tomorrow."

Smiling, Ladybug waved. "Get outta here, you silly cat."

"I'm going," Adrien chuckled. With one last kiss to her hand, he was off into the night, mind already reeling with fantasies about what living with his Lady would bring. The only thing that spoiled those wonderful thoughts was what events would occur during dinner with his father. Cold stares, an entirely one-sided conversation...the possibilities were endless.

His heart, however, pulled him towards the hope that the evening would go well, and that breaking the news would be as easy as pie.

Chapter Text

Adrien was disappointed.

He tapped his foot against the floor, hands clasped together on the mahogany table and head hung low. A sigh fell from his lips, which were tugged downwards in a frown, and he momentarily closed his eyes. This was certainly awkward.

His father was late for dinner. Very late. So late that Adrien had received plenty of time to mull over the notion that he might not even turn up at all.

There was his plate, right next to Adrien's, steam rising up from the chicken and green vegetables that sat lifelessly upon it. Adrien poked at his own food, stabbing a floret of broccoli and twirling it around on his fork, considering beginning his meal on his own before he set his silverware down and leaned back into his chair with a huff.

Of course Gabriel was late. It wasn't like this was important to his son or anything. Adrien wasn't taking a big step in life that he wanted to discuss with his father or something. Not at all! Gabriel's absence wasn't a big deal.

(Except it was. It was and Adrien hated himself for feeling upset when he'd known this would most likely be the outcome in the first place.)

Swirling his wine around in his glass, Adrien took a sip. It was bitter—just like how he felt at the moment. He was never really one for drinking, anyways.

The dining room sat empty, save for the youngest Agreste and two plates of food that would soon be cold. The lights of the city shone through the windows, soft and luminous in the black of night—a reminder that even when things went wrong, Paris would always be there. For a moment Adrien considered foregoing dinner and slipping out his bedroom window behind the safety of his transformation, but he knew better. He'd have to be patient.

(No matter how difficult it was.)

A glass vase sat in front of his plate with a single purple hyacinth reaching proudly from its neck. Adrien tilted his head to the side as he lifted a finger to brush at its petals, recalling the meaning of the flower—an apology—and scoffed under his breath as he slid the vase away.

He ate his dinner without waiting for his father to arrive. It tasted unusually bland.

Just as Adrien cleaned his plate and stood from his chair, his eyes heavy and body ready for a good night's rest, Gabriel Agreste walked into the room. As usual his shoulders were tight and his back straight, expression stoic and unreadable. Adrien stuffed his hands in his pockets and faced his father with a frown, brow raised in question as Gabriel cleared his throat and sat at the end of the table without a word.

"You're late," Adrien said, unable to prevent the hurt he felt from slipping into his words.

"I know," Gabriel said curtly. He cut into his chicken and took a bite; Adrien wondered if he even noticed that it had long since lost its heat. "I was busy."

Crossing his arms, Adrien's gaze fell to the floor. "You're always busy."

"I had important work to do." His father's tone stung, and he wasn't even speaking harshly.

"More important than me?" Adrien asked with a slight edge to his voice. He met his father's gaze, unwilling to glance away, and held his eye with a challenging gleam in his own.

With a sigh, Gabriel set his silverware down on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. Adrien knew that look—it was the age-old "oh, we're having this conversation again?" grimace.

"Don't start this now, Adrien," Gabriel said. "I've had a long day."

Adrien nodded. "Right," he replied. "Right. Me too…" Scuffing at the ground with his foot, he sighed and turned on his heel. "Well, goodnight."

"Didn't you have something you said you needed to discuss with me?"

Adrien paused in the doorway. He did, yes...but a something inside of him wanted to act stubborn. He'd been looking forward to their dinner, after all, and Gabriel was nearly an hour late. That warranted a little sour behavior, didn't it?

"Don't worry about it," Adrien said, feeling a tad uncertain. "It's...it's not a big deal."

There was a pause. Then, Gabriel adjusted his glasses, and Adrien could have sworn he caught the hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his father's mouth. "You're like your mother in many ways, Adrien. For one, you're a terrible liar."

Adrien deflated. Of course he was. Everyone had always told him that.

"Sit back down," Gabriel instructed. "Tell me what you needed to say."

Ugh. Fine.

As he returned to the table and pulled out his chair, the small, stubborn flame that still simmered within Adrien's chest screamed. Oh well. No need for a bad attitude if his father was at least willing to cooperate.

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, Adrien sat back down and tapped his fingers on the table. He kept his gaze on the polished wood, brows furrowed and heartbeat quickening. This was it. He was going to break the news of his leave to his father and he wasn't taking no for an answer. All he had to do was tell him.

Mind racing, Adrien played with the hairs at the nape of his neck, displaying the telltale gesture he'd never grown out of.

Tell him, he urged himself, tell him-

"I'm leaving," Adrien said, before frowning at his own choice of words. Well, that didn't come out like he'd wanted it to...

Gabriel nearly choked on his wine. Blinking wildly, he set his glass on the table and regarded his son with wide eyes. "Leaving? Can you elaborate, please?"

Adrien nodded. "I mean moving out," he said, the pitch of his voice rising an octave. "As in...getting my own place. Becoming more independent. I think it's about time."

"When did you decide this?" Gabriel asked, and Adrien could tell he'd become tense; he was definitely doing his best to hide it, what with his shoulders lowering and eyes returning to his cold plate of food. "This is...quite the sudden declaration…."

"Not really," Adrien countered. He fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve as he avoided looking at his father directly. "I've been thinking about it for months now. A friend and I officially decided that we want to move out together about a week ago. We've already picked a few places to look at, so-"

"A friend?" Gabriel rose a skeptical brow. He took a sip of his wine, sighed, and clasped his hands together on the table. "What kind of friend, Adrien?"

Adrien's lips thinned at his father's change of expression. Wow. What was that look for? It was almost as if he'd just confessed that he was running off to elope with some girl he'd never mention, what with the way Gabriel was practically gaping at him.

Oh, did he think—? Did he think his son was moving in with a secret girlfriend or something?

Becoming a little defensive, Adrien sat up straight in his chair. "Just a friend, father. We both were looking to move out and decided it would be cheaper to room together."

"And who is this...friend?"

Names were a problem. Names were definitely a problem.

Fuck, why hadn't he come up with a plan? Why hadn't he made an excuse or come up with a friend he was supposedly living with? In retrospect, he really could have thought the whole thing through a lot more thoroughly, because now…

Well, now, he was on the brink of panic. He couldn't tell his father he was moving in with Ladybug! That would be absurd!

"Uhh," Adrien blanched. "Um. N-Nino? Wait, no, he's in California- I meant…Nin...uh."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, he thought, mind reeling. Can't say Nino or Alya. Who else?

He was coming up short and teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown. His father was assessing him with a cock of his brow and a lopsided frown, and Adrien was about to have a serious meltdown.

He quickly blurted out the first name that came to his mind after Nino and Alya-

"Marinette?"

-and instantly regretted every single decision he'd ever made in his life.

"Marinette?" Gabriel asked. He mulled the thought over, chewing on the remaining bits of his food before he swallowed and nodded in recollection. "She's the one who's won a few of my competitions, isn't she? The Dupain-Cheng girl?"

Adrien wanted to bury himself in a three-meter hole deep, deep in the ground. He'd barely spoken to Marinette after they had graduated from lycée, and had only seen her a few spare times since. While the two of them had grown a little closer over the past seven years, they hadn't exactly become close enough to hang out every week. When he had left the country for a brief time after graduation, he'd kept in contact with Nino—which, in turn, meant he kept in contact with Alya—but had seldom ever gotten the chance to text Marinette. He had her number, of course, but…

Well, they'd certainly drifted. The last time he had seen her in person was at a Christmas party four months ago, and even then they hadn't spoken much except for the occasional conversation by the punch bowl.

How would he tell her that he'd accidentally told his father that they were moving in together as a cover-up for who he was actually going to be living with? She'd probably be pretty freaked out, and—goodness, what if she called him a creep? She probably had a boyfriend—or girlfriend—of her own, and wouldn't want a friend from lycée she rarely spoke to saying that they were roomies, especially if she was already living with someone else.

Despite himself, Adrien found his lips forming words on their own accord. "Yep, that's the one." His voice croaked uncomfortably.

Why? Why? What was wrong with him—!

Gabriel hummed approvingly. He was silent for a moment or two, giving a leisurely roll of the wine in his glass. Removing his glasses to wipe them on his suit, he gave a small nod. "Alright," he said. "I see you're ready to take this new step in your life, and I'll allow it under one condition: before you two finalize this, I'd like to speak with Mme. Dupain-Cheng in person."

Adrien's left eye twitched. "Haha, won't...won't be a problem."

Marinette was going to kill him. He was so utterly, completely, extraordinarily fucked.

"So, how'd it go?"

Breathing in the cool night air deeply through his nose, Adrien sighed, leaning his back against the brick of a chimney. The horizon of the city glowed like an amber flame over the buildings and bled into the black sky, where a sleepy airplane trailed across. Faint laughter trickled up from below the roof he and Ladybug sat upon, and in the distance, the sound of an acoustic guitar danced in the wind.

Adrien shifted his position against the chimney and shrugged in response to Ladybug's question. Truthfully, he honestly felt like he was about to throw up, and his head was pounding. Pressing his palm against the back of his head, Adrien murmured, "Hard to tell."

Ladybug turned her attention to him, ponytail swaying with the movement of her head and blue irises sparkling with concern. "What do you mean?"

Head drooping, shoulders slumping, Adrien let out a quiet, strained groan. "I screwed up so bad, 'Bug."

Immediately Ladybug was at his side. Her hand was soft on his bicep, and how her teeth lightly bit into her lower lip made Adrien's heart pulse with warmth. He shot her a smile. As he lifted his head to gaze at her fully, the thick breeze that blew against them at this altitude caused his eyes to sting with dryness, but he held eye contact anyways; looking at his Lady was always a gift he treasured, and he wouldn't tear his attention away for the world.

Clearing his throat, he began: "So... Yesterday, I told my dad that I'm moving out."

Ladybug nodded encouragingly, patting his arm. "That's good."

His smile grew crooked as it threatened to fall. "That part, I guess, yeah. But...there was a question he asked me that caused me to panic, and I think I may have given him an answer that he liked, but another person may be angry about." He clawed mindlessly at the gravel of the roof with one hand, the other reaching up to rest atop his partner's with an affectionate squeeze. Ladybug glanced down at their entwined fingers before meeting his eyes once again.

"Tell me," she said. It wasn't a question.

Swallowing audibly, Adrien said, "I told him I was moving in with a friend. He got suspicious—not that I didn't expect him to be—and asked me who it was I was moving in with. Naturally, I couldn't just say Ladybug—because could you imagine how crazy that would be? To say I'm moving in with Ladybug? Anyways, I panicked and told him that I was moving in with a friend of mine who's in America which doesn't make sense, because he's in America and I'm obviously here in France-"

"Chat," Ladybug chuckled behind her hand. "You're rambling."

"Right." Clearing his throat, Adrien continued, "I might have told him I was moving in with a friend I haven't spoken to since Christmas."

Ladybug was quiet for about three whole seconds before she grinned and began to braid a tiny piece of hair that was sticking out of the side of his head. (How she was going to properly braid something that small was beyond him, really, but he let her try.)

"Well," she said, continuing her ministrations, "is that such a bad thing? I mean, if you haven't spoken to them since Christmas, it is a little awkward, but...maybe they'd be willing to help cover for you. You know, pose as your roommate so your Pere's convinced and whatnot. It'd be easier than having a roommate he's never met and never seen. If they're a good friend, they might help you."

As Ladybug began to work on another too-small part of his hair, having succeeded with the first, Adrien hummed. He hadn't thought of that. Sure, it would definitely be weird to meet up with Marinette only to tell her that he needs her help posing as his roommate, and she might be weirded out, but...it was worth a shot, wasn't it? And even though they weren't necessarily good friends anymore, they were still friends. He wouldn't want to stress her out, or make things difficult for her...but surely there was no harm in asking?

Leaning back into his partner's warmth, Adrien beamed. "My Lady, you are always full of brilliant ideas. It's one of the many reasons why I'm head over heels for you."

"Yeah, yeah," Ladybug snickered. She gave him a gentle push, heaving him off of her body. "Ugh, Chat Noir, you're heavy. Get off."

"Excuse me," he countered, white fangs glinting in the city lights. "I happen to weigh a healthy amount for an adult male such as myself. Maybe you've just lost your strength."

Ladybug crossed her arms under her chest. "Want to test that?"

Adrien smirked. "Are you suggesting we spar, Buginette?"

"I'm suggesting you'd better take that back before I punt you across the city."

"Fair enough," he laughed. "I take it back. We both know you're the strongest one between us. You could probably bench press me."

With a lazy grin, Ladybug rolled her eyes and bumped his shoulder with her own. "Of course I could."

They shared a laugh before their voices faded into a comfortable silence. Leaning back against the chimney once more, Adrien rested his hands at his sides, kneading at the gravelly texture of the roof. Ladybug sat beside him—she looked so beautiful, as always—her eyes trained on the Eiffel Tower in the distance. She had her thinking face on, one Adrien recognized easily after spending years by her side, and he idly wondered what was going on in her head. She was so smart, after all, and so wonderful; whatever she was thinking of was surely of utmost importance.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?" she asked, still gazing into the distance. "I can't stop worrying if we're going to mess up, somehow."

"Oh, we're definitely going to mess up," Adrien said. He shot her a wobbly smirk as she turned and glared at him, his lips quivering with suppressed laughter. Ladybug went to give him a playful jab, but he scooted away, holding up his clawed hands in defense. "Hey, hey, hold on! I'm being serious here. We are going to mess up, eventually, but I doubt it'll be anything drastic. Like, maybe we'll forget to pay rent one month or drop a new pack of eggs on the floor. That's what I mean."

Ladybug huffed. By the twitch at the corners of her mouth, Adrien could tell she was fighting back a smile. "What are you getting at?"

Fixing himself into a relaxed position, Adrien placed his hands behind his head. "What I mean is that stuff happens. We're human; we're gonna mess up. It's in our nature. You don't need to worry yourself over the big things, like if we somehow reveal our identities. If you're gonna worry, worry about the little stuff—the stuff that's more plausible. Like which one of us is gonna clog the sink or accidentally break a plate. That's the stuff we can fix, right? Call a plumber, buy a new plate, you know." Crossing his legs, Adrien wrapped an arm around Ladybug's shoulder and pulled her closer. She didn't object to their proximity, which was a pleasant newness he'd slowly been getting used to. "Whatever happens, happens. And we'll get through it together, just like we always do. Trust me."

As Adrien gently pressed a finger to Ladybug's nose, she scrunched it up, grinning as she pushed his arm away. She settled against his side with a hand on his chest, a slow, inaudible sigh slipping from her lips and making her visibly relax. The silence between them was long, but not uneasy; they often found themselves lapsing into familiar quiets much like the one they occupied at the moment. Running a hand up and down Ladybug's arm, Adrien allowed his head to rest atop his partner's, his lips curling into a wide smile as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Any unsuspecting passerby would surely look see them in their position and assume they were dating—perhaps even a couple who had been involved for years. But, as only they knew, they remained friends despite all of the news articles stating otherwise. Sitting like this, wrapped around each other in an embrace—that was just who they were. That was how their friendship had been built; how it always had been. Since day one they'd had to deal with close contact with each other, being superheroes and all, but neither minded.

In fact...it was one of the things Adrien loved most about their relationship. They were so close. Closer than he'd ever been with anyone, really.

(The urge to press a kiss to his Lady's fringe was almost too hard to resist, but he refrained. They weren't like that.)

"Hey, Chat Noir?" Ladybug's voice peeped up over the purr of the city.

Adrien hummed in question. He could feel Ladybug smile against his suit.

"You're my best friend," she said.

"I've been upgraded to best friend status?" Chuckling, Adrien squeezed her shoulder, grin widening as his Lady rolled her eyes. "What about that friend that moved to America you talk about a lot, huh? Have I surpassed her?"

Ladybug sat up and Adrien mourned the loss of her warmth as she nudged his hand away. "You're different. You're like...it's weird," she said. "You're closer to me than anyone I've ever met and you don't even know who I am."

Shaking his head, Adrien leaned forward to meet her eyes. "That's not true," he told her. "Just because I don't know your name doesn't mean I don't know you."

Ladybug hummed, wrapping her arms around herself as a particularly chilly gust of wind fluttered around them. She said nothing, gaze downcast at the streets below and legs moving to dangle over the edge of the building. Adrien allowed her a moment of silence, but after a few minutes had passed and she hadn't said anything, he lifted himself up and regarded her with a serious glint in his eyes.

"I do know you," he repeated. "I know your favorite color is pink and that you love cats—don't deny it—and I also know that you're stubborn and selfless and care more about others than you do yourself at times. But most importantly, the number one thing I know about you-" he placed a hand on her shoulder, scooting up to allow his own legs to hang over the edge, "-is that you know me. And that's why we're doing this, right? Because we know each other, and we're comfortable with each other. But, if you still feel unsure and don't want to move in with me, we really don't have to-"

"Oh, shush, you silly cat," Ladybug breathed. She pressed her face into his bicep and, much to Adrien's delight, flushed red. "Stop it with that sappy stuff. You're making me blush."

"I'm serious," he said. "If you really feel uncomfortable or scared or anything that makes you not want to take this step, you don't have to. Whatever you choose, I don't mind. I just want you to be happy. That's what's most important."

Ladybug let out a noise that was a mix between a groan and a squeal. "When you say stuff like that it makes me want to scream."

Face scrunching up with amusement, Adrien let out a bark of laughter. "What? Why?"

"Because—" Ladybug balled her hands into fists. "You're just so- so sweet and caring and giving me like, such high expectations for future boyfriends and stuff."

Well, that was certainly a surprise. Him, setting high expectations for her? That fact was so surprising that Adrien nearly choked on his own spit.

Clearing his throat and collecting his composure, Adrien pulled her closer. "Well, you can just date me, then. I'm sure I could meet all of those expectations."

It wasn't right to say that. She was able to date anyone she wanted—and he knew she didn't like him that way—so he really shouldn't have said it, because-

Ladybug laughed and gave his shoulder a gentle nudge with her fist. "We're too close for that, chaton."

-because of that.

"Besides," she continued as his heart wilted, "I'm sure you have countless fans clawing at your door. An attractive guy like you has plenty of pretty ladies and gents to choose from, I would think."

While his mind was reeling at the fact that Ladybug had called him attractive, Adrien couldn't bathe within his excitement for longer than a few seconds. He glanced away as his black ears drooped and forced a smile to his lips as his partner gazed at him with mirth in her eyes, dark eyelashes tickling the cheeks that looked just so perfectly kissable. She was beautiful, impossibly so—sometimes so beautiful that it hurt.

"We're too close for that, chaton."

Swallowing back the disappointment that threatened to cause his voice to waver, Adrien instead settled for joking, "Are you implying that I'm a slut, my Lady?"

Ladybug positively guffawed. "No!" she practically screeched. "I am not implying that, silly. But hey, if that's what gets you going-"

"Kidding," he said. Though the amusement within him had died, he still smiled at her, for his heart warmed with every look she threw his way. "You're the only one for me, my Lady."

The nickname had a sour taste to it for a moment there, because no matter how much he dreamed...she wasn't his.

"Well." Ladybug let out a breathy laugh. "You are my best friend. Maybe one day, if I'm like, thirty-five and still haven't found a boyfriend, you and I can get married. How's that sound?"

"You had me at 'boyfriend,'" Adrien said. Though he knew she was joking, because there was no way someone as charming as her wouldn't be in a relationship by then, a twinge of hope sparked within his chest. "I'll make an elaborate proposal. Underneath the Eiffel Tower on a snowy winter evening, so you can happily jump into my arms and cause me to slip back into the snow in front of the crowd that gathered. We can go home afterward and drink hot cocoa under a heated blanket to warm up."

Ladybug grinned up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Why, Chat Noir, have you thought about this before?"

Was it not obvious? Adrien had spent almost every waking minute thinking about marrying her someday.

"Only a few times," he lied through a smile.

Ladybug crossed her arms, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. "Mhm, okay. If you say so."

And so they sat as they always did. Shoulders pressed together, bodies brushing side-by-side, the radiant glow of the city bouncing off their suits and skin in tandem. The breeze still hadn't subsided, but it had calmed, allowing the pair to sit relaxed in the warmth they shared. Though Adrien desperately wanted to wrap his arms around her and embrace her against his form to savor her scent and heat, he knew he shouldn't; Ladybug deserved her personal space, and he'd never overstep her personal boundaries.

"Hey," he said after a good ten minute's silence. It was April, so on the occasional chilly night like this one, his breath would cloud out in front of him before disappearing a brief moment later. "Have you checked up on our place yet? We've gotta go down there somehow and check it out—sign a lease or something."

Ladybug pulled her phone out of the belt on her waist. They'd both taken up the habit of bringing their phones on "patrol" for games or silly selfies, which was really just an excuse for them to spend more time in each other's company. "Let me see," she said, opening up her browser and accessing the listing through her bookmarks. "I'll see if we can schedule a time to meet up with the realtor, but- oh, no!"

Adrien leaned his head over her shoulder to peer at her phone. "What is it?"

With a whine slipping from her lips and disappointment washing over her face, Ladybug held her phone up for him to see, looking about as miserable as a kicked puppy. Adrien was about to ask what was bothering her for a second time when he saw it:

The beautiful apartment they'd had their sights set on was already occupied.

Chapter Text

Finding out that the beautiful apartment she'd had her hopes set on had been taken was disappointing, to say the least.

With a sigh, Marinette flopped down onto her bed and frowned deeply into her pillow. She couldn't believe it. She and Chat had been so ready to move, and they had been sure that apartment had been the one for them...but they had acted too late.

Someone else—whoever that person, or people, may be—had beaten them to the punch.

She and Chat Noir really should have sealed the deal sooner. While they both were still so new to the whole apartment-hunting business, Marinette really hadn't expected their apartment to go to soon.

(Well, it wasn't "theirs." It never really had been.)

Chat Noir had done his best to comfort her. She was still sad, though. It really had been perfect.

The apartment was large with a homey feel, had a beautiful garden terrace and two bedrooms big enough to keep her sewing supplies and a queen-sized bed, as well as being in a safe location with a view overlooking the Seine. All of those were nice qualities, of course, but her favorite attribute of the apartment was its spacious living room with floor-to-ceiling windows. She could imagine herself sitting on the couch, sketching and listening to her favorite music as sunlight streamed in like golden wisps of warmth onto the hardwood floor...

She daydreamed about it extensively. What it would be like to live there, to wake up in the morning and open the burgundy curtains to a view of the sunrise over the city. She would make a pot of coffee for her and Chat Noir. Maybe she'd even pick up breakfast at her parent's bakery and bring it home for them to share because they made the best pastries. Perhaps she'd do some yoga in the living room—there was certainly enough space—and after she could take a shower in one of the two pristine bathrooms before spending the day relaxing on the terrace.

Marinette's heart sunk as she remembered that she wouldn't be able to live those fantasies in that perfect apartment. It was gone; taken; occupied. Not theirs. A whimper of disappointment rose in her throat and slipped from her lips before she could suppress it.

(Marinette wouldn't admit it to Chat Noir, but she had cried on the way home. Just a little bit.)

"I'm so mad," she muttered to nobody in particular. "How could we be so—so stupid?"

"What do you mean?" Flitting over to rest on her shoulder, Tikki's tiny mouth turned downward, paw stroking the top of Marinette's head. Her indigo eyes softened at the sight of her Ladybug in distress.

Marinette turned on her back to stare at the ceiling. "The apartment. The one that was so perfect. We should have just taken it the moment we saw it. Now somebody else owns it and… and I'm still here!"

"Marinette, it's okay," Tikki told her. "You and Chat Noir will find another place just as special. And, if it doesn't seem special at first, you two can make it that way."

"You're sweet, Tikki."

"Besides," Tikki continued. "Wasn't that apartment over budget? I know you weren't happy with the idea of Chat Noir paying more per month than you."

Marinette hummed in thought, chewing on her bottom lip as she mulled over her reply. "You're right," she said. "I'd forgotten about that. I would have ended up feeling so guilty."

Even if Chat Noir insisted that he didn't mind paying more, Marinette did. She didn't want to live in a place where he fronted most of the money. She'd feel like a freeloader.

"It was farther away from your parents' house, too." With a stretch of her legs, Tikki curled up into a ball on Marinette's pillow and nestled into a more comfortable position. "I know it was beautiful, Marinette, but I think it was a good thing you didn't get that one. In the end, things would have been harder for you."

Tikki had a point. Although the apartment had seemingly been the best choice, perhaps, Marinette thought, she had been blinded by its appearance. The rent was horrendously expensive compared to her monthly earnings, and the distance between her work and back would have been difficult due to the fact that she was yet to own a car, and using Ladybug as a transportation method wasn't something she liked to do often.

Besides, she didn't want to rush into things. She and Chat still had a lot to figure out, and signing a lease on the first apartment they came across was a little risky. There would be others, and Marinette definitely wanted to have the opportunity to tour and look around them before they made a final decision. How she and Chat Noir would do that, she wasn't sure yet, but…

Well, they'd find a way. They always did.

"Thanks for the advice, Tikki," Marinette said, tickling under her companion's chin. Tikki giggled in response.

With a smile on her face that was much more relaxed than it had been an hour prior, Marinette sat up and stretched her arms high above her head. It was late; after she and Chat had discovered their apartment was occupied, patrol had resumed. It went on for a lot longer than Marinette had expected, but she blamed the bad news for her sluggish behavior. Now, it was nearing midnight.

(She wanted to be annoyed at Chat Noir for being so nice and fun to spend time with, but she couldn't find the will to be. He made her feel like she never wanted their patrols to end.)

She hauled herself out of bed with an apology to Tikki for stirring her. Changing into a pair of pajamas and speeding through her nightly routine of teeth brushing and face washing, Marinette slipped right back under her duvet just as the clock struck twelve, the comfort of her bed familiar and welcoming. As she nuzzled her face into her pillow, she sighed. Tomorrow was another day.

"I hope we find something that'll be nice to live in," Marinette said, thinking out loud.

Tikki lifted her head from Marinette's pillow and smiled encouragingly. "Wasn't there a smaller apartment? I remember there being another that was your second choice."

With an intense yawn that made the corners of Marinette's eyes prick with tears, she nodded in recollection, eyes widening and heart skipping a beat from excitement. "Right!" she exclaimed. "I'd forgotten about that, Tikki. It was small, but… nice. There was definitely enough room for the both of us if we squeezed. Only one bathroom, though…"

"You can take turns," Tikki offered.

"The kitchen was super tiny," Marinette continued. "But that's okay because Chat's told me before that he has no idea how to cook, so I'll really be the only one using it on a daily basis. It didn't have a washer or dryer, but I think there's a laundromat around the corner…"

Tikki's voice became quieter as she began to drift off to sleep. "That's good, Marinette."

"...it did seem really cozy. Comfortable, almost."

"So you like it?"

After a moment of deliberation, Marinette nodded. "Yeah," she said, fluffing up one of her pillows and turning onto her side, head resting on her forearm. "Yeah. It's only twelve minutes away, too, and in a nice part of town right next to a park. I could take walks there. It's close to my work, too, and rent would be cheaper." A grin split her face as she closed her eyes, images of a small apartment adorned by homey decorations and warm lighting filling her head. "I'm sure it'll be just fine."

Tikki mumbled a sleepy reply, but Marinette didn't quite catch it. She was too busy fidgeting with excitement, because tomorrow—tomorrow, she would tell Chat Noir about the other apartment, and they'd make it theirs if he was willing.

Theirs. The word echoed in her head over and over again.

They would own their own place. A home where she could live with the one person she trusted more than anyone else in the world. They could stay up late watching movies on weekends, eat ice cream straight from the tub, or play their favorite video games together. They could even build blanket forts or- or make dinner together as best friends. Heck, they could even sit in their pajamas all day without a care in the world. It would be like a never-ending sleepover with Chat Noir.

Part of Marinette was nervous about being around him nearly twenty-four-seven when they didn't know each other's identities, but she urged herself not to worry so much. She trusted Chat Noir, after all, and he'd never purposefully infringe on her privacy. Things would be okay. They were close friends; everything would work out just fine.

As she felt herself slipping into peaceful dreams, Marinette was positively beaming.

It was a rough day.

Nearly missing her first class that morning because her alarm hadn't gone off, Marinette had sat through her classes unable to focus due to thoughts of her and Chat Noir's apartment on the mind. She'd completely blanked during a quiz, found her stomach rumbling loudly during a lecture because she'd forgotten to eat, and had accidentally left her notes on the history of fashion at home when they were absolutely necessary for the day's assignment.

It was safe to say her morning had started out unpleasant, but she was determined not to let it get to her. Thoughts of meeting up with her partner later that night to tell him about her findings urged her to keep moving through the day with her head held high.

Marinette gave a brief glance at her phone to check the time as she walked down the street. It was one in the afternoon, past the usual time she ate lunch. With the added hunger from a breakfast forgotten, her stomach was growling up a hungry storm, and she couldn't wait to step inside the downstairs of the bakery to get a whiff of fresh bread and make some food for herself before she had to rush off to work.

The air was starting to get warmer. Marinette relished the ability to wear skirts again after such a cold winter, and she was thankful the chilly weather had subsided for the season. Smiling up at the sunshine, she took in a long, deep breath and sighed, enjoying the way the rays of light warmed her skin. It was a beautiful day, really—the clouds were so puffy and white that Marinette wanted to transform just to get closer to them. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could even touch one.

The sky was so blue today. So blue and bright and dotted with white clouds. One in particular caught her eye and she grinned up at it, thinking it looked exactly like a ca—

"Woah!"

Stumbling into a broad chest, Marinette's arms flailed and her legs wobbled before she fell back towards the sidewalk. Blurs of light from staring at the sky filled her vision, and as an arm connected with the small of her back, she was left feeling weightless and dazed.

Had she tripped over something…?

"You might want to watch where you're going," a cheerful voice laughed, obvious mirth in the stranger's tone. "You're going to hurt yourself like that, Marinette."

Blinking to rid the circles from her gaze, Marinette swiveled her head up to stare at the figure as he brought her to her feet. It took her a moment to come to terms with where she was and who she was talking to, and as her eyes adjusted to the sight of tall, blond and handsome, her heart practically leaped out of her chest.

It was Adrien. Adrien Agreste; the boy she hadn't seen since Christmas and hadn't spoken to since their slightly-drunken conversation by the punch bowl.

"Adrien?" she asked, unable to suppress the surprise in her voice. Oh, god, she probably looked like the same old maladroit girl she was back in collége and lycée, staring at the sky and bumping right into him without a shred of awareness. Her cheeks reddened just from the sheer embarrassment of the situation.

Adrien beamed at her, his smile as bright as the sun that had temporarily blinded her. "Hey, Marinette. Long time no see, huh?"

His hand was still on her bicep. The contact felt nicer than she'd liked to admit.

(The small, touch-starved part of her didn't want him to ever let go.)

After a moment of staring Marinette figured it would be polite of her to answer, so she offered her hand in a wave. "Adrien! H-hi- hey! It's been forever! What are…" Oh god, she thought, his eyes are even greener than I remember. "...what are you doing on this side of town?"

It was odd for Adrien to be so close to the bakery. He was usually in different parts of the city during the day, sometimes even out of it completely for his modeling—that's what Nino said, anyways—so… what was he doing here?

Adrien went to play with the hairs on the nape of his neck. It was a tell-tale old habit of his that Marinette had picked up on years ago. "Ah, well," he said with a high-pitched laugh. "I was actually on my way to see you. You see, I have a silly favor to ask."

Marinette blinked. "A favor?"

What kind of favor would Adrien possibly need from her? They hadn't even spoken in five months. The only way she'd kept up with what he was doing was through Nino!

Somewhere deep inside of her, Marinette wanted to be annoyed that he just turned up out of nowhere to ask her for something, but he was just too damn cute to turn away. Besides, Adrien was the sweetest person she'd ever met in her life, and he'd never asked her for a favor before. If he was coming to her after they hadn't spoken in what felt like forever, well, it had to be something important, right?

Adrien opened his mouth to speak but promptly closed it as Marinette's stomach let out a plea for food. The sound had her blush deepening to a crimson, and she self-consciously placed a hand on her belly. It didn't seem to phase Adrien, though—he simply smiled and pointed a thumb towards the bakery doors. "You want to go inside?"

Marinette hadn't even noticed she'd made it home. With a nod, she led him around to the back door that led up to the apartment rather than taking him through the front. "Let's go this way. My parents would probably attack you with love and free pastries if they saw you."

Adrien laughed, and it was a gorgeous sound. "Is that such a bad thing?"

"Yes." Fishing her keys out of her pocket and unlocking the door, Marinette threw him a smile over her shoulder. "They'd fatten you up until you're rolling out the door and down the street. Too much of a good thing, you know?" The door opened, and Marinette found herself feeling light on her feet as Adrien held it for her. He was still such a gentleman after all the years they had known each other.

"Aw, there's no harm in that," Adrien countered, shutting the door behind him and following her up the stairs. "I could stand to gain a little pastry weight."

Your dad would kill you though, she thought bitterly. Just for that, she'd take out some cookies for him to eat upstairs. Maybe shove some in a bag for him to slip home for later.

"I'll sneak you some," Marinette said with a grin. "On the house."

Adrien touched a hand to his chest as they made it upstairs, his lips twitching into a grin. "How sweet."

Marinette paused in the middle of the doorway to look over her shoulder with a cocked brow. "Adrien, was that a pun?"

Adrien merely smirked, a chuckle causing his voice to waver as he said, "Maybe."

Marinette gave a playful roll of her eyes in response.

Things were quiet as she made her lunch. Adrien sat on the couch with one of his legs propped over the other, leisurely fiddling with his phone while Marinette did what she needed. She only had an hour before she had to leave for work, and she was thankful she could at least spend time with an old friend while she ate. Usually, she sat alone upstairs while her parents worked down below, passing the time by idly scrolling through the internet or chatting with Tikki. Adrien visiting was a nice way to mix things up—even if it was a tad awkward.

"So…" Marinette said as she sat next to him on the couch, a little farther away than what she would normally consider a friendly distance. "You had a favor to ask?"

Adrien looked up from his phone and pocketed it, hand retreating to the back of his neck as his eyes averted her own. It was like a switch had been flicked—he'd gone from relaxing on her couch in one moment to an anxious teenager the next. Marinette crossed her legs and placed a hand on her elbow (a habit she'd never grown out of), cocking her head to the side as she watched her friend mull over something that was obviously eating at him. It was like he was afraid to say whatever was on his mind; as if she would get upset at him or something like that.

"Adrien?" she asked after a silence that had been a little too long to be comfortable. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, but it was an obvious lie by the way his voice cracked. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I'm okay. I'm sorry, I just realized how rude of me it is to pop back into your life after not speaking to you for a while only to ask something from you. I didn't even think about that until now." His shoulders wilted and he looked positively deflated as Marinette gazed over him.

The sight caused her to want to reach out to him, and her fingers twitched from anticipated contact, but she refrained. He was right—it was a tad rude of him to do so, especially after they hadn't seen each other in months, but it was clear that hadn't been his intention. He was in need of something; whatever it was, Marinette wanted to help him. So what if it had been five months? They were still friends whether or not they were close anymore. She'd be willing to do anything for him so long as it was within reason.

Shaking her head, Marinette laid her hands on her lap to keep them from touching him. "Nonsense," she said. "It's okay, Adrien. It's nice to see you again and I don't mind giving you help if you need it. What is it?"

He was quiet. His eyes flickered to meet hers for a fleeting moment before they glanced away again, and he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his white hoodie in a motion that seemed self-conscious. Resting both feet on the floor, Adrien murmured, "I kind of messed up, and said something I shouldn't have, and now I'm in trouble."

Marinette's eyes widened and her voice caught in her throat. "Wh-what? Trouble?"

Adrien shook his head. "No, that's not right. I'm sorry, I worded that wrong." Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together and tapped his thumbs against themselves, thinking. "So, I'm moving out in a few weeks, right? And I go to tell my dad about it a few nights ago. The only problem is I'm moving out with someone I can't let him know about, so I sort of told him I was living with a friend of mine that he knows and likes. Which is good and all, because he believed it, but… Now he wants to meet her. But he can't do that because… Well." He squinted in thought, eyes pausing on her own. "Well, she has her reasons."

All Marinette could offer him was a confused stare. What on Earth was he talking about?

Seeming to catch on to her perplexity, Adrien sighed. "To put it simply, I'm moving out with a person my dad can't meet. So… I need someone to help me convince him I'm moving in with someone he can trust."

A bubble of anxiety began to stir within Marinette's chest. She was beginning to get a vague idea of where this was going and wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the whole idea just yet. "I'm sorry," she said, voice soft. "I don't want to sound rude, Adrien, but what does this have to do with me?"

Adrien visibly cringed. "About that," he said, shoulders hunching. "I… I panicked. I panicked and spat out the first name that came to my mind when my father asked who my roommate was going to be, and I…" As if to hide his face, he buried his face in his hands and groaned. "I said I was moving in with you. But I'm obviously not, so I-"

Marinette's eyes widened to the size of a dinner plate. "With me?" She felt speechless. While flattered she was the first person he thought of, her tongue fumbled to form words and her mind was reeling with the thought of how ironic this whole situation was. Adrien was moving out with someone his father couldn't meet, and she was doing the exact same thing—moving in with her partner whose identity had to remain a secret. It certainly made the whole "meeting the parents" thing difficult. Living with Chat Noir was something she'd been looking forward to, but she hadn't exactly thought out how she'd allow her parents to meet her roommate (if they would at all.)

"I know, I'm sorry," Adrien said, deflated. "I really screwed up and I understand if you're mad at me. I'm really sorry for coming over here, actually." Sitting up, Adrien combed his fingers through his hair and shot a quick glance at the door—a sign Marinette could interpret as his desire to leave. "It was so stupid of me to turn up here to ask this of you, and I'm really realizing that the more I talk about this. I'm sorry, Mari, really-"

Marinette had missed that nickname.

As Adrien rambled on about how sorry he was, Marinette contemplated the idea. It wasn't a bad one, per se, just something she hadn't expected. She wasn't sure who the girl Adrien was moving out with was or why she needed to be kept a secret from his dad, but that wasn't any of her business. Truthfully, if she played along with Adrien's plan, it might end up working out in her favor as well. Surely if she pretended to be Adrien's roommate for the sake of his father, he could do the same for her?

"Adrien," she said, scooting closer to lay a hand on his arm. "Relax. It's not a big deal."

Adrien's viridian eyes sparkled with relief. "It's not?"

"No," Marinette laughed. It was kind of silly, actually. "Don't beat yourself up over it. It is a little crappy that you just sprung this on me out of nowhere, but I don't mind helping you out. Actually, I'm kind of in a similar situation. I'm also moving out soon."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Adrien winced. But at the mention of her moving out, he perked up and asked, "Wait… Really? You excited?"

Marinette nodded. "Mhm." She crossed her legs and leaned back into the cushions of her couch, eyes resting comfortably on the ceiling. "Believe it or not, the person I'm moving out with is someone I have to keep secret from my parents, too. Not because they'd get mad or anything, but… Well, he has his reasons."

Adrien laughed as she tossed him a wink.

"Anyways," she continued. "I hate to lie, but I'll make you a deal: I'll convince your dad that I'm the person you're moving out with if you pretend to be the person that I'm moving out with. So then there'll be no questions and both our parents will think we're living together when we're really not. Sound good?"

Adrien merely nodded, taken aback by her response.

While the thought of lying to her parents (or anyone, really) was absolutely grating, Marinette knew she didn't really have much of a choice when her identity was at stake. Revealing herself to her parents was against the rules and incredibly dangerous; it wasn't worth getting upset over a little white lie when putting her parents jeopardy was far worse of an outcome.

"So?" Marinette held out a hand, pink-painted nails contrasting against Adrien's tanned skin. "We have a deal?"

"Yes!" Adrien exclaimed, his voice high-pitched and eyes bright. He grasped her hand firmly and gave it a shake so forceful that Marinette's whole arm was taken into the movement. "Yes, oh my goodness, thank you so much, Marinette. I promise I'll pay you back somehow. Y-you want to go to lunch or have me cover your rent for a month or something?"

"There's no need for that," Marinette said, lips curling upward into a smile. "You're already paying me back by telling a lie for me."

Adrien's grin reached his eyes, and the dimples on his cheeks became prominent as he teased, "Now there's a thought. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, telling a lie?"

Her expression flattened at his joke and she wanted to look displeased, but she couldn't find it within herself to suppress the grin that stretched across her face. "Keep making cracks like that, Agreste, and the deal's off."

"You'd do that to me?" he asked in mock offense. "But we're friends, Marinette. That hurts."

"Yeah, yeah." Marinette waved him off with a giggle—that was probably full of a little too much delight—and stood from her spot on the couch to sit at the dinner table, where her lunch sat on a plate. "So, when am I convincing your dad that I'm your new roommate?"

Adrien joined her at the table, sitting backwards on one of the chairs. "Not sure just yet. I'll probably have Nathalie set up a night where we can have dinner and allow you guys to get acquainted. It might not be for a while yet, but I'll try to get him to free up some time soon. I'm trying to get out as quickly as I can."

"In a big hurry?" Marinette asked. She took a bite of her food and her mood was immediately improved just from the taste alone; she hadn't realized how hungry she was until now.

"Sort of."

She swallowed her food before asking, "Why's that?"

Adrien offered a shrug, his expression hardening. "Ol' Père isn't any more fun to live with than he was when I was a kid. Guess I'm just so excited to finally have my own place with someone I love rather than spend my days alone at the manor."

With someone he- he loves?

That thought took Marinette by surprise. Though, she supposed it shouldn't have... Adrien was twenty-one, devilishly handsome with the soul of an angel—it was no shocker that he was in a relationship. She wanted to be jealous and a small part of her was, but she had to remind herself that she had no reason to be. Adrien deserved someone who made him happy. She would find someone someday who made her happy, too.

(No matter if she was still a little bitter than she'd never had the courage to confess to him as a teenager and that, despite that her old crush had significantly faded over the years, she was just a smidge disappointed that he wasn't hers.)

"It's nice that you're moving in with someone you care about," Marinette said, resting her sandwich back on the plate. "I'm excited that I finally get to move out too. Even though I've always loved living with my parents, they're so nosey! It's one of the reasons why I'm glad I'm getting my own place, especially with someone I trust more than anybody. It's a nice feeling, knowing you can live with somebody and not worry. A safe feeling."

Adrien nodded, voice breathy. "Yeah, I know what you mean. The girl I'm moving in with, she's like… My everything. And I'm so happy we're going to share a place together. It's all I've ever wanted, really." His cheeks heated to a light shade of red, and the corners of his eyes crinkled from how wide his smile grew. He was so happy, so excited; the joy to be living with someone he loved was clear on his face.

Marinette felt the joy radiating from him. It made her smile stretch across her face. All his life Adrien had done things for others without question, and now he was finally doing something for himself. His girlfriend—at least, that's who Marinette assumed she was—sounded like she made his life a wonderful experience, and he appeared absolutely radiant in that moment. Marinette's heart warmed at the thought of how much happier Adrien must be.

While she was a little sad they hadn't kept up with each other, she was glad they were getting to talk and catch up now. It was so nice just to hear his voice again.

"I'm glad you and your girlfriend get to have a place together," Marinette said sweetly. "It must be such a great feeling to be able to look forward to waking up next to the person you love every day. I'm so happy for you, Adrien."

Adrien let out a soft laugh. "Oh," he said, gaze lowering to the table as his cheeks became crimson. "That's sweet of you, Marinette, but we're not dating. Just really good friends. Thank you though."

"Oh!" Marinette blinked in surprise. Huh, funny… With the way he talked about her, it was like they'd been in love for years. Unless…

"Ohhhh," she said, the truth dawning on her. "You like her, though."

The tips of his ears darkening, Adrien tried to scoff but whatever noise came out sounded weak and unconvincing. "Wha- no! No, I don't… I meant love as in, like, friendship-"

She gave him a flat stare, and Adrien submitted.

"Okay, okay, you got me," he sighed, holding his hands up in defeat. "But she doesn't know and I don't think I'll ever work up the guts to tell her."

"Why not?" With how dopey his smile got whenever he mentioned her, Marinette was sure there was no way in hell he would be able to keep that information private for long.

Clicking his teeth, Adrien shrugged, offering nothing more than a shake of his head.

"Adrien…" Marinette rested her cheek on her palm, smile knowing. Oh man, she didn't even need an answer. She could clearly remember how tongue-tied she used to get around him back in lycée when she was head-over-heels for his kind soul. "If you really love her, you should tell her."

Well, now you're just being a hypocrite, she thought to herself. Here she was giving Adrien advice she had never followed herself. For a brief second she wondered what things would have been like if she had confessed, but there was no use dwelling on the what-ifs. He'd never liked her like that, and that was okay.

Adrien gave another shake of his head. "Mm, I would, but… She doesn't like me that way."

She ignored the brief spark of hope in her chest, because no.

"No?" Marinette asked. "How can you tell?"

"Well, we joke a lot," Adrien said. "I'm pretty sure I've dug myself a hole of 'flirting so much she thinks I'm joking' so deep that it's impossible for me to climb out of it at this point."

"You? Flirting?" Marinette laughed at the thought. She didn't think she'd ever seen Adrien flirt a day in her life. "I don't think I believe you, Adrien."

Adrien raised a brow with a quirk of the corner of his lips. "Well you see, Marinette, I'm very different around her. She knows me like nobody else."

Marinette could say the same for herself about Chat Noir. While she didn't love him romantically, she did love him as a best friend, and the way she acted around him was unlike the way she acted around anyone else. She was excited to live in the same space as him and to share her life with him—the most she could behind a mask, anyways.

"I understand that," Marinette said. "I'm like that with the guy I'm going to be living with. It's nice to have someone you can completely be yourself around."

Nodding, Adrien gazed at her with a warm smile on his face, and Marinette was about to offer to get him the pastries she'd promised when his phone buzzed.

"Shoot," he said as he read over whatever text was sent his way. "I'm sorry Mari, but I've gotta run. Got to meet a photographer in thirty minutes. I'll give you a call when I can get my dad to come for a dinner, though."

As he stood from his seat, Marinette nodded, standing with him. "Sounds good. You still have my number?"

With a quick flip through his contacts, Adrien held his phone up for her to see. "Yep. What nights are you usually free?"

"I always have Fridays off," she said. "Except for late Friday nights, because I usually meet Ch-" She clapped a hand to her mouth. Shoot, don't tell him you meet Chat Noir for patrols, stupid! "...meet up with a friend to hang out."

If Adrien noticed her slip-up, he didn't mention it. "Alright. I'll schedule it for one of the upcoming Fridays then." His phone buzzed once more and he glared down at it before shoving it in his pocket. "I'll see you around?"

"Definitely. Keep in touch, okay? I-" Marinette's face softened as she glanced away, pink dusting the edges of her cheeks. "I've missed you."

There was a pause. Adrien turned, irides glowing like a ray of sunshine and dimples showing as his grin grew three times its previous size. He stood still for a moment, and Marinette was sure he was going to return the sentiment before walking out, but instead he reached out and-

-and he hugged her.

He hugged her and it felt so nice that Marinette wanted to bury herself within his warmth. With his arms around her back and his body leaning forward because he was nearly a foot taller than her at this point, she swore that she'd never felt so light in her life. Clouds—she was on clouds. He smelled like heaven and she was on clouds.

(She wasn't sure why she was feeling so weird just from being hugged by him. Weird in a good way, but still weird.

She didn't like him like that anymore. She'd stopped ages ago when they drifted apart…

She didn't. She didn't, she didn't, she…

Oh, who was she kidding.)

As Adrien pulled away from the hug, he flashed her one of his smiles that she had grown to love so much over the years and patted her shoulder, his large hand encompassing it completely. Marinette's legs felt like jello.

"I'll text you, okay?" he said, turning the knob on the door. "I promise I'll do better at keeping in contact this time. We're going to need to if we're both helping each other out in this sticky situation."

Marinette nodded, letting out a faint, "Yeah."

"It was good to see you again, Mari." With a final squeeze of her hand, Adrien turned and walked out the door, calling over his shoulder, "I'll see you later!"

"Yeah," Marinette breathed. Her feet were glued to the floor.

Yeah.

When she watched him walk down the street from the upstairs window, she kicked herself for forgetting to give him the pastries she'd promised.

Marinette went to work that night feeling weightless and distracted. She had picked up a shift from her coworker at the local fabric shop she'd come to adore over the years, and was thankful it wasn't a long one—only five hours—so she could immediately transform the moment she clocked out.

She wasn't feeling like herself. Normally she was used to dealing with constant distraction, and by now she wasn't phased by the inability to focus at times, but this… This was different. This was very, very different.

She sorted fabric at a slow pace, hummed to herself as she cleaned the bathrooms (forgetting where she was in the middle of the task), and even managed to snag herself when she was cutting a strip of wool for a customer. She didn't notice the pain, though, and the blood that dripped from her fingertips was lazily cleaned ten minutes after the initial incision.

Her boss asked if everything was alright, and Marinette wasn't sure what to say. She didn't even know the answer to that question herself.

Alya had always told her that she fell in love too easily.

She had never expected herself to fall back in love just as quickly, though.

Chapter Text

It was chilly.

Cold nights were a rarity in April, and as Adrien relaxed three stories above a café under the comfort of his transformation, he shivered. Granted the air was brisker the higher up he sat, but he felt most safe when he was off the ground. It was an odd yet familiar feeling; being Chat Noir made him feel free.

And soon, he thought, he'd be even freer. Living with Ladybug under their own roof, in their own apartment with their own shared meals, possessions and moments… He couldn't wait.

Finding out the apartment they had been excited to move into was occupied was definitely a downer on the situation, but Adrien didn't mind all that much. Sure, the place had been beautiful and wonderfully spacious, but it wasn't realistic. He knew himself how stubborn Ladybug could be. If she wasn't happy with the idea of him paying most of the rent, the poor girl would've probably worked herself to death just to make it fifty/fifty.

His lips quirked upwards into a smile at the thought. His Lady was so selfless and she would never make life harder on anyone she cared about if she had a say in it.

He knew she had loved that apartment, though. It pained him to see her so upset over losing it. He'd find her another one—one she could imagine herself loving as much as the one they'd lost. Adrien would search until his Lady was happy, and if he didn't find one, well, he'd keep looking. He'd always keep looking.

Ladybug was amazing. She deserved a home just as much so.

"You asleep, kitty?"

Eyes snapping open at the sound of Ladybug's voice, Adrien's face visibly brightened, his heart skipping a beat. "It's the 'Bug," he said cheerfully. His face hurt from how wide he was smiling. "'Bug's here."

"'Bug's here," Ladybug repeated as she sat by his side. "Why are you out so far? I had to use my tracker to find you."

Adrien could do nothing but offer a shrug. Truthfully he didn't know why he had ventured so far away from home—the minute he'd left Marinette's he had transformed and just kept running, his body taking its own accord with where it wanted to go. Whether it was his embarrassment about dropping the favor on her so suddenly or his excitement that she had actually agreed, he wasn't sure, but he was happy nonetheless. It was a good night.

"Dunno," he said after a moment. Resting his arms behind his head as he laid back on the roof, he grinned up at her. Her bluebell eyes sparkled down at him and it made everything in the world seem right. "I just love being out at night."

Ladybug scoffed, amusement in her gaze. "Typical nature of a cat. What are you on the hunt for? Pretty girls?" She flicked his bell, and Adrien laughed in response.

"Why search for pretty girls when I've got the prettiest one right next to me?" he asked. His teeth glinted in the neon light of the sign behind them as his grin widened.

"Oh, please," Ladybug chuckled. "We both know you're the prettiest, Chat Noir." She undid her her braid, rolling her eyes as she laid down next to him. Her hair was wavy from being twisted up for so long. Adrien wanted to run his fingers through it.

"Damn straight," he said in response. His voice wavered from his laughter.

But that was a lie. That was a total, complete lie. Ladybug was the most stunning between them; she was practically ethereal.

Hues of blue and gold bounced off of her suit as the sign behind them flashed, the changing of its colors accentuating her soft skin and gorgeous smile. As Ladybug rolled onto her side to look at him with a brow quizzically cocked, lips so pink and eyelashes brushing the edges of her cheeks every time she blinked, Adrien felt himself falling, just like he did every night. He fell and he fell and he fell just from being in her presence.

"Love you," he said, adding a playful edge to his tone so she wouldn't take him seriously. He wasn't ready for that confession just yet. That was a few months—or years—down the road.

"Yeah, yeah." Waving him off with a hand, Ladybug turned onto her back with her hands clasped together on her stomach, eyes trained to the sky. She had her thinking face on. With her teeth nibbling at her bottom lip, thumbs fiddling, brows furrowed and expression hardened, it was obvious something was bothering her. That, or she had something important she had been wanting—no, needing—to tell him.

For the first time that night, Adrien noticed the dark bags underneath her eyes. There had been countless times she had shown up to their little meetings with exhaustion wearing on her, but tonight there was something different. She was… Off...

"You okay, Ladybug?" he asked, voice laced with concern. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," she deadpanned. "Weren't you just telling me that I was the prettiest girl about, I dunno, five minutes ago?"

"That's not what I mean." Sitting up, Adrien propped himself up with his forearms, eyes roaming up and down his Lady's form. He could practically feel the tension vibrating from her muscles. "Here," he said, giving her shoulder a gentle tap. "Sit up."

Ladybug did as she was told, heaving herself up to a sitting position with a faint grunt. It was almost uncanny how quick she had switched from the upbeat girl he'd grown to love to a sore, exhausted 'Bug that just needed a good night's rest.

"It's that obvious, huh?" she asked, and the weariness in her tone was surprising.

Adrien moved to sit behind her. With clawed fingers, he brushed her hair away from her back and Ladybug sighed as he began to work out the kinks in her shoulders. Whatever had happened to her today, it really messed up her nerves. Her back was so hard and taut that Adrien felt an overwhelming need to protect her and help her relax in any way he could.

"What happened today?" he questioned as he rubbed circles into her back, smiling at the small, pleased hums that slipped from Ladybug's lips due to his ministrations. He was careful not to poke her with his claws, wishing now more than ever that they were retractable.

Ladybug leaned back into his touch. "A lot," she said, and when Adrien asked her to elaborate, she paused for a moment before speaking again: "An old friend visited me today."

"Yeah?" Adrien asked. Her back still felt stiff. "How'd that go?"

"Okay, I guess. Well, until he told me something weird."

Weird? He didn't like the sound of that. "What kind of weird?"

"Like-" He must have hit a particularly good spot because Ladybug paused to emit a short, quiet groan. "Like, I dunno… I can't say too much without revealing details, but he asked me this question out of nowhere. It really surprised me. And I-" She whipped her head around to frown at him when he accidentally stuck her with a claw, and Adrien held up his hands in an apology, allowing her a moment to settle back against him before he continued his work. "I feel different about him, now."

Different? Different. Different was something.

"Different how?" Adrien asked. He moved his hands down to rub her arms as Ladybug leaned back against his chest. "Like, a good different, or a bad different?"

Please tell me it's not a bad different, he silently begged. He didn't want any guys making his Lady uncomfortable—lest he have to teach them a lesson or two.

"...Both?"

Adrien cocked his head to the side. "Both?"

Ladybug shrugged. "I used to have the biggest crush on him back in lycée. I'm pretty sure I was legitimately in love with him."

He did his best to ignore the spike of jealousy that threatened to flare up within him. "Did you two used to date?"

The laugh that Ladybug released was almost sad. It tugged at his heart. "No," she said, voice soft. "No, but sometimes I wonder what life would be like if we had."

Adrien often wondered how their lives would be different if he and Ladybug had dated, too. Squeezing her hands, he nuzzled his face against her neck and rested his head on her shoulder, allowing his cheek to brush against the material of her suit. "There's no use dwelling on the 'what ifs', Buginette," he told her, but the advice was directed to himself as well. "Did he make you uncomfortable in any way?"

"No," Ladybug answered. "No, he could never."

"He" sounded pretty special…

"So, then… What happened?" Adrien asked.

Ladybug chuckled, but the sound wasn't a happy one. "I think I realized tonight that I never really got over him."

Oh.

Oh.

Swallowing around the sudden dryness in his mouth, Adrien's hands slowly retreated from Ladybug's own, his body leaning back until it was sitting up straight. "Does he…" He cleared his throat to rid the shakiness in his voice. "Does he know?"

Ladybug shook her head. "He'll never know. He's in love with somebody else."

The world was silent as he felt his parent's heart sink to the very bottom of the ground. It was like the streets had been vacated; the music from the café faded into nothingness, and the usual chatter of pedestrians was eerily absent. There was no sound, nothing except the crest of a delicate breeze, and a quiet, absolutely hopeless whimper.

Ladybug was crying.

Ladybug was crying and Adrien—Chat Noir, her partner, her closest friend—had no idea what to do.

He'd seen Ladybug cry before, but- he'd never seen her cry like this.

She was barely making a sound, yet it was the saddest he'd ever seen her. As she hugged her knees to her chest, she looked like she was trying to bury her face within her thighs, head hung low and body trembling as she tried her damnedest to hold back the tears. But she couldn't. She couldn't, and- and Adrien was just sitting there-

He was just sitting there, eyes wide from surprise, heart-wrenching from how badly he desired to just scoop her up and take her home to wherever she lived to tuck her into bed and make her a hot, sweet drink. She didn't deserve this pain—this hurt. She didn't deserve any of it.

The lack of reaction from him must have made her feel embarrassed because she attempted to apologize, but Adrien wouldn't allow it. She had no reason to apologize for feeling the way she did. Her body shivered as he wrapped his arms around her, and she pressed her face against his chest as she sniveled and whimpered and cried.

"Shh," Adrien whispered. There were shudders along her skin as his arms ran up and down her back. "Hey, it's alright. It's alright, Buginette."

"I'm sorry," she started, but Adrien shook his head.

"Don't apologize," he told her. "This? This right here? This is normal. You don't need to feel bad for crying. I understand that you're hurting."

"It's not even that," she sniveled. "I'm not even really that upset about the whole thing, I-I think I'm just overwhelmed. I've had so much going on lately, especially t-today. From being late for school and forgetting breakfast and seeing him a-and cutting myself at work, I mean, fuck, today has just been horrible!"

That was something Adrien could understand. Stress was something he was all-too-familiar with, and he was no stranger to the occasional breakdown.

"Bad days come and go," he said. "It's alright."

Ladybug's hands balled into fists against his torso. She was quiet, now, but the tears still streamed down her cheeks and dripped from her chin. Adrien used the pad of his thumb to wipe the moisture away, smiling gently as Ladybug leaned into his touch.

Even if they weren't in love, they did still love each other.

Music began to drift up from the café's outdoor terrace below. It was soft, tender; the type of typical French music a person would hear in one of those cliché romance movies. People were laughing, clapping and dancing, and Adrien's feet began to twitch as an idea formed in his head.

"Hey," he said, sparing a glance over the edge of the roof to peer down at the civilians shuffling around the musicians. "You hear that?"

Ladybug looked up at him with her eyes glossy and full of tears, and asked, "Hear what?"

A woman's chortle drifted up from the street, and Adrien smiled as the music grew louder. "That."

Ladybug nodded, bluebells glinting in the neon lights. "I hear it."

"Then come on." Standing, Adrien grabbed hold of his Lady's hand and pulled her up, grinning as she shot him a puzzled look. Instead of answering her he gave her a simple bow and reached out his hand. He even added a wink for good measure. "Shall we?"

Wiping her face with a gloved hand, Ladybug gazed down at his hand for a minute so long that Adrien thought for sure she was going to refuse, but instead she smiled and nodded, grabbing hold of his hand and placing her other on his shoulder. Adrien responded with a grin as long as the Seine and placed his free hand on her waist, giving the one he held an affectionate squeeze. The music slowed, and Ladybug was clumsy as they waltzed, even stepping on his feet a few times. Adrien didn't mind in the slightest. She was happy, laughing, even—and that was the most important thing of all.

"I bet after a good night's rest you're going to be feeling a whole lot better. Tell you what," Adrien said, giving her nose a gentle boop with the pad of his finger before he twirled her around, "if you don't, you come find me. I'll stash some money in my pockets and we'll go get dinner and ice cream, my treat."

That made a tiny smile perk at the corner of his Lady's lips. She blinked up at him as he dipped her, and he enjoyed the way the lights of the neon sign flashed behind them as they danced.

"And even if I do feel better?" Ladybug asked.

Adrien grinned. "Then we'll still go, just to celebrate that you're feeling better. Deal?"

Ladybug laughed, and the sound was angelic—even better than the sweet tune the musicians were playing below. "That sounds great, Chat Noir."

"Good." He squeezed her in a hug, and Ladybug reciprocated it even tighter. Adrien wondered if she could feel how frantically his heart was thumping against his chest.

"You know…" Ladybug began, voice so soft against his shoulder he wasn't sure if it was her speaking or the group of people at the café. "I don't only wonder what life would be like if- if he and I had dated."

Adrien rested his cheek atop her head after pressing a kiss to her fringe, humming in question.

"Sometimes…" she paused to sigh, warmth trickling in on the edge of her voice. "Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if you and I were together."

Someone needed to call 112, because Adrien's heart had ceased beating.

She couldn't just say stuff like that! Was she trying to kill him? Murder him in the sweetest possible homicide he'd ever witnessed? Albeit the only homicide he'd ever witnessed, but still!

Emitting a strangled noise that was a mixture of a screech and a moderate agreement, Adrien coughed, choking on air. He swallowed thickly in an attempt to regain his composure (and breath) before combing his fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands and musing it completely. "Y-yeah?" he wheezed, thankful Ladybug hadn't seemed to catch on to his minor freak-out. "You do, huh?"

Ladybug nodded, and that was all that was said on the subject.

Things were quiet after that. The song was over, the people had subdued their voices, and neither of them spoke a word. It was therapeutic in a way. Adrien could feel his partner breathing against him, and her heartbeat wasn't nearly as fast as his own, but it was comforting in the least.

Still, Adrien wondered. What would things be like if she and he wound up together? Would they reveal their identities and still move in together, or would they keep their civilian lives a secret while they dated just as Ladybug and Chat Noir? He would be okay with that, he supposed, if that's what she really wanted. He'd be okay with anything she liked.

"Oh, guess what I found," Ladybug said, breaking the silence. Adrien noticed the music had resumed below. "Remember that tiny apartment we came across when we were searching? You know, one of the two we had picked as the ones we liked the most."

Nodding, Adrien pulled away from their embrace—reluctantly—and gazed into her eyes. "Yeah," he said. "I remember."

Ladybug clasped her hands together excitedly. "Well, it's still available. I was doing some research on my break tonight, and if you're still interested, we can set up a time to meet with the realtor by Thursday. It really is a nice little place, cozy a-and warm and-"

"Yes," Adrien said, nodding once more (although this time it was much more of an animated movement.) "Yes. Yes, it was perfect. If you want it, it's ours."

"So, that's our place?" Looking up at him with eyes sparkling in excitement, nobody would have ever guessed that Ladybug had been crying that night. She was jovial, legs wiggling in the adorable way they did whenever she was aflutter, and she gave a hop for good measure. It was endearing. "That's our home? And we're going to actually get it this time, right?"

A noise of affirmation rose from Adrien's throat, and he beamed as Ladybug jumped up and down in enthusiasm.

"It's ours," he said. "And we're going to live the crap out of it."

"Yes!" Full of energy, Ladybug gave his shoulder a punch, arms wrapping around his neck as she lifted herself into his arms for a full-fledged, Ladybug-sized bear hug. Adrien ended up having to support her thighs so she wouldn't fall right back onto the roof. "Ohh, I'm so happy. You have no idea how happy that makes me—how happy you make me, Chat Noir."

And just knowing that made Adrien feel like everything was right. So long as they had each other, everything would always be right.

They spent the rest of the night talking about nothing in particular. Adrien made a crack about how he loved stargazing in Paris, which made Ladybug laugh; there were no stars to look at.

"One day we're gonna take a trip out to the countryside," he told her, waving a gloved hand at the sky. "We're going to hike to the top of a mountain and camp out and just look at the stars."

"Wait until it gets warmer," Ladybug chuckled. "I get cold too easily to camp out in spring."

"I feel like there's a joke there somewhere about ladybugs and hibernation," Adrien laughed.

"Oh, shut up," Ladybug responded with a playful shove as she joined him in his laughter.

"We'll travel though," Adrien said. "We'll go in summer, at a time when the city is calm. Even if it's just for one night. I'll drive us down the long winding roads and we can roll the roof of the car down and breathe in the fresh air. You know, like one of those teenage romance movies where the kids run away and drive to the beach in a convertible."

Ladybug snorted. "You drive a convertible?"

"No," Adrien said. "But I'll get one just for the aesthetic."

Hearing his Lady's laugh was what made his life worth living.

He bid Ladybug a goodbye later that night when they'd both grown tired and watched her zip over the skyline, thankful he could send her home with a skip in her step and a smile on her face. It pained him to see her sad. He was glad that he could make the sadness go away, at least for a little while.

As Adrien laid in bed that evening with the recent memories of her touch and voice in his head, he swore he felt more in love than he ever had in his life.

"So, let me get this straight: you're moving in with Adrien now?"

Marinette glanced away from the screen of her laptop with an indecisive shrug. "...Yeeeess?" It was absolutely grating for her to tell a lie straight to her best friend's face—albeit it was over a computer screen—and she hated the gross feeling it gave her. "I know it's really sudden, but-"

"What happened to that Chad guy?" Alya asked, leaning back in the chair she sat on. "You know, the one you told me was from America. I thought you two were supposed to be roomies."

Shit, Marinette inwardly cursed, nibbling on her lower lip out of frustration. She'd forgotten she had told Alya she was moving in with a completely made-up guy. God, this whole situation was just one lie after another, wasn't it…

With a sigh that was heavy enough to blow scraps of paper off of her desk, Marinette admitted, "I… Made him up."

There was a pause. Looking up from the papers that had drifted to the floor, Marinette met her best friend's gaze, offering a pained expression that spoke more than words could provide.

Alya simply raised an eyebrow. "Why?" she asked, voice soft and full of question.

Marinette scrambled to think up an adequate answer because, no matter how badly she wanted to, she couldn't tell Alya the real reason she had fibbed. Chat Noir had an identity to keep as much as she did. If she went and told Alya that she was moving in with Chat Noir, well…

Well, there would be a hell of a lot more questions than just a simple "why."

"Because..." Marinette said. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Because I… Adrien asked me to keep it on the down-low. He didn't want word to get out and for people to think we're anything more than friends."

Blowing a strand of curly hair out of her face, Alya crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, the red of her lipstick smudging slightly from the movement of her mouth. "When did you two even decide this? I thought you guys hadn't spoken since Christmas. You were just crying about it last week."

"To be fair, I was drinking," Marinette muttered.

"That doesn't matter," Alya retorted. "You're too honest of a drunk-"

"-I wasn't drunk-"

"-and I don't see how you guys could just suddenly decide to start being all buddy-buddy again and take a huge step like moving in together when you barely know each other anymore."

That wasn't necessarily true. She and Adrien still knew each other.

Marinette's shoulders slumped and her head hung low. "I'm sorry, Alya. I know I should have told you, but there were reasons why I couldn't-"

"Do you think I'm mad at you or something?" Alya rested her head on her arms on the desk in front of her, hazel eyes glowing with worry for her friend as they gazed up into the camera. "Mari, don't get me wrong, I'm super excited for you and glad to see you're moving up in life and getting your own place. I just want to make sure you're happy and comfortable. If you want to move in with Adrien, by all means, do it! Just… Make sure it's the right thing for you, okay?"

A warmth spread inside Marinette's chest at Alya's words and she smiled, giving a single nod in affirmation. She was touched that Alya would worry so much about her happiness. It wasn't surprising; Alya had always been there for her since the day they'd first met each other in collége, and although she was overseas, her caring nature wouldn't diminish. Marinette's heart longed to see her best friend in person again and she wished now more than ever to give her a hug.

"You're so good to me, Alya," Marinette said, and her smile stretched so wide across her face that her cheeks hurt. "You're always looking after me. I really appreciate that."

"Well, I love you," Alya said. "And I'll always be looking out for you."

Marinette's laugh was full of gratitude. "Love you too, Alya."

They were quiet, simply smiling at each other for a few moments before Alya stood up, stretched, and cracked her back. Marinette cringed at the sound.

"Oh, gross," she said, and Alya stuck her tongue out in return.

"It's just my bones," Alya responded, mirth in her tone. "I've been sitting at this damn desk all day for work."

"Did you get that report in?" Marinette asked. "I know your boss has been bugging you for some new hot gossip to publish."

"Yes, thank god," Alya said, and she used her forearm to clear the clutter of her desk to the side. "Now I can relax and talk to my babe for the rest of the night."

Marinette smirked, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Nino?"

Alya snickered. "Not the boyfriend, my babe," she replied, swiveling her chair around to sit on it backward and propping her arms on the backrest. "That's you."

Giggles spilled from Marinette's mouth as Alya pointed to her and winked, and she felt the tension she'd been holding in her muscles after Adrien had left the day before beginning to melt away. Talking to Alya was practically therapeutic these days. They only got time to video chat once or twice a week, and Marinette mourned the loss of being able to see her best friend's face daily. They texted as often as they could, but with Paris being nine hours ahead of California, it was hard to keep up.

"What time is it now?" Marinette asked, suddenly remembering the nine-hour difference. "Jeez, Alya, it's midnight where you are. Where the heck is Nino?"

Alya gave a show of waving off the late hour with her hand. "He's got a gig at a club tonight. I was gonna go but I didn't feel all that great earlier so I decided to stay away from the club scene and do some work instead."

Frowning at the mention of her friend feeling ill, Marinette said, "Oh, gosh. You okay?"

"Fine now." Alya shrugged. "It was weird, though. Earlier today I was like, super sick, throwing up and stuff, and Nino even offered to stay home, but I was like, 'no, go! You deserve this!' and right before he left I suddenly felt better. So… Whatever that was, it's gone now."

Marinette winced. "Oof. Maybe you ate something bad."

"Probably." Mindlessly picking at her nails, Alya shrugged it off. "So, tell me how you and Adrien came to this little agreement of yours. Did he just like, show up and ask you to be his roommate?"

With a laugh that sounded like a nervous seal, Marinette glanced away, hand cupping the underside of her elbow. "You could say that."

"You're messing with me."

"I really wish I was."

"There's no way that dude just showed up at your doorstep and asked to move in with you!" Alya shouted, voice becoming high pitched; Marinette couldn't tell if she was laughing or seething with rage. "That's so… So hilariously rude! And unlike him."

"It was a bit more complicated than that," Marinette said. "He needed a roommate and so did I, and… We both figured it was better to move in with someone we're familiar with than a complete stranger."

She hated how easily the lie slipped from her tongue.

"Besides," Marinette continued, leaning back in her chair and stretching her arms above her head, "he's nice, and I like him as a person. He's tidy and polite and can even be really fun. We have a lot of the same interests. I know he and I haven't talked in awhile and I kind of just jumped into it but I really think this will be good for me. And for him."

Playing with her side braid, Marinette looked up to find Alya staring back at her with a knowing glint in her eyes. She was gazing at her like she knew something; as if she was privy to a secret that Marinette wasn't aware of. She adjusted her glasses, sat up straight and crossed her arms, one leg overlapping the other.

"'Nette," Alya said, voice still. "Girl, you do fall in love too easily."

Marinette choked on her own spit. Coughing and hacking, she hunched over her desk as her cheeks flushed red—whether it was from the coughing or her own embarrassment, she wasn't sure—her eyes nearly bulging out of her skull. "Wha- I- I do not-"

Alya bit her lower lip as she stifled a laugh. "You can't hide this shit from me! I know you too well."

"Fuck off-"

"You still love him," Alya said. "I can't believe it."

Marinette said nothing. Arms crossed and head hung low, she gave a pout so intense that it almost made the nerves in her face hurt. "Stoooooop," she whined, unable to suppress the corners of her mouth from curling upwards. "Quit making fun of me. I thought you loved me."

"Aw, Marinette," Alya cooed. "My little baby is growing up and living with a fine-ass gentleman who's gonna treat her right."

"I'm ending this video call."

"Traitor."

"It's literally almost one in the morning for you, Alya," Marinette chuckled. "You need to sleep anyways. I can see how tired you are just by the look on your face."

Alya slouched, cheek pressed against her desk and glasses askew. "'M fine."

"Go to bed."

"Only if you promise to call me again in a few days," Alya said, voice raspy from exhaustion. "I miss you more than you know."

Pressing a hand to her chest to show she was touched, Marinette smiled, blowing a kiss to the camera. "I miss you too, silly. Now get some sleep. I'll text you later when it's morning where you are."

Alya sighed, a warm smile stretching across her face. "Okaaay," she said. "I submit. Goodnight, 'Nette. Let me know how things with Adrien are going as soon as you can."

Marinette gave a playful roll of her eyes. "I will, I promise. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, I love youuu-"

The call ended, and Marinette sighed. She slumped back into her chair with a smile. Alya was such a nice person to talk to.

She sat there for a few minutes, mind replaying their conversation on repeat. She let Alya's words dance through her head as she got up, folded her laundry, made brunch for her parents and relaxed in front of the TV. Even through a long day of work, Alya's voice sang, and what she had said earlier still wouldn't leave her head. It was like a mantra, endlessly reminding her of her one major fault: she fell too easily.

It was a good thing she wasn't really moving in with Adrien. If she had to be around him most days, sometimes for the entire day… She wouldn't know how to cope. She'd be head-over-heels in no time, and living in the same space as him—where he slept, ate, relaxed and showered—would have her freaking out around every corner. She'd be uncomfortably infatuated. It would be difficult for her to rest in her own apartment.

As she swept the floors of the fabric shop late that night, a thought stuck Marinette so sudden that she stumbled, tripping over her own feet and sending the broom to clatter loudly on the tile.

She was going to be living in the same space as Chat Noir. Chat Noir, her partner, her most entrusted friend; the boy who had turned her from a distraught mess into a beaming, confident superhero again the night before. In the span of one evening, he'd managed to flip her entire mood upside down—not only managing to make her smile but making sure she went home with that smile for the rest of the night, too.

Marinette wasn't at all familiar with the way her heart thumped in her chest.

She was going to be living with Chat Noir. They were going to share a home. They'd be more than roommates, they would be together like best friends, like…

Huh. Like maybe a little more than that.

But she didn't let herself dwell on those thoughts for too long. Marinette had never loved Chat Noir in that regard, and she wasn't going to start now. He was her partner. They had to keep a professional relationship in order to keep Paris safe. That was what was most important.

Even if they both ever wanted different, they had a duty to the city first and foremost. Chat Noir needed to understand that. And… Maybe she did, too.

No, snap out of it, she told herself, smacking her cheeks to force herself back into focus. None of that.

"Marinette?" Tikki's voice peeped up from inside her jacket pocket. "You're very nervous. I can sense it."

"I'm fine, Tikki," Marinette said. She reached down to pick up the broom from the floor and was thankful everyone besides her had gone home for the night. "Just tired."

Tikki frowned, but accepted her answer anyways. "Well, try to get some rest tonight, okay?"

"I will," she promised. "I will."

She'd do her very best—even if thoughts of a green-eyed, blond-haired boy kept her awake. Who that boy was, however…

That—that was a question for another day.

Chapter Text

It was a little over a week since he'd visited that Adrien gave her a call.

Scrambling to pick up her phone, the ringtone loud and jarring, Marinette nearly dropped it on the sidewalk before answering with what she hoped was a calm and collected, "Hello?"

Adrien's voice was like a breath of fresh air in her ear. "Marinette! Hey, are you busy tonight?'" he asked, tone cheerful. He sounded excited, and from the staticky noise that came from the background, Marinette could only assume he was outside, much like herself. The wind was blowing leaves down the streets and the clouds rolling above were a dark gray; it was clear that within the next hour a heavy downpour would cover the city.

(So much for patrol later that night.)

Marinette shook her head as she walked down the sidewalk. After a beat of silence she realized her reply had to be vocalized—cell phones, duh—and squinted as a particularly forceful breeze blew strands of black hair into her face. "N-no, not busy. It's Friday, right?"

A noise of affirmation rose from her phone. Adrien laughed as he said, "Yep, it's Friday. I know it's really late notice, but my dad wants to meet you tonight if you're free. Would you be able to come over around, say… Seven o'clock for dinner?"

Seven? That was in four hours. It was a little last moment, but she could work with that.

"Sure, sounds good," Marinette replied. She held her phone between her shoulder and cheek as she forced her skirt down, which insisted on attempting to fly up with the wind. "Should I walk over, or—"

"I'll pick you up," Adrien told her. He said something else, but the wind in the background blocked out whatever words had fallen from his lips. When Marinette asked him to repeat himself, he said, "Wear something nice, if you can. Unfortunately, Father's the type that judges people on their looks."

Marinette frowned at that. She was pretty enough on her own without dressing up. Ah, well. There was no harm in putting on a little more makeup than usual and wearing one of her favorite dresses for a dinner with her favorite designer (and his handsome son.)

"Alright," she said as she entered the bakery through its glass doors, thankful to be indoors and away from the dreadful weather outside. "I'll be ready at seven, then."

An excited hum came from the other end of the line. Marinette had to repress her giggles.

"Great!" Adrien cheered. "I'll see you then, Marinette."

"You too."

As they ended the call, Marinette smiled down at her phone. Often in her youth, she would think of Adrien as many things: charming; attractive; a drop of sunshine with the kindest soul. However, one description from Alya back in lycée had stuck with Marinette for years, and each time she thought about it, laughter would bubble from her chest just from the memory alone.

Adrien was like a golden retriever, Alya had said. And lo and behold it remained accurate to this day.

True to the nickname, Adrien was an excitable person with a head of golden hair and a happiness about him that always made him eager to see his friends. When he did get the chance to meet up with them, he'd shower them with platonic affections, even bringing a gift or two if he had the time. And man, when he saw his friends heading his way, especially Nino… He'd run to greet them with arms outstretched for a hug so tight that Marinette was sure he'd suffocated a person or two in his lifetime from his affections.

She missed that part of their relationship. They were close, years ago… Practically best friends at one point—especially when Nino and Alya's relationship had become more serious. They'd spent their days as third and fourth wheels, eventually opting to spend time together with just themselves, bonding over video games or watching movies on her couch at home. She distinctly remembered how Adrien cowered at horror movies, and how he'd hid his face in her shoulder whenever a particularly scary part flashed onto the screen.

Her heart ached from how badly she yearned for their childhood closeness to return. What had happened? Why had she let them drift apart…?

"Miss?" a voice asked, tone curt. "If you wouldn't mind, you're holding up the line."

Flinching in surprise, Marinette turned to see a customer with his hands on his hips, eyebrow cocked impatiently. She blushed in embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, shooting an apologetic glance to her mother (who was ringing up another customer at the cash register.)

She had to stop getting distracted in the middle of rooms so often. Retreating upstairs to her bedroom, Marinette set the bag of fabrics she'd purchased before Adrien called on her chaise and plopped down next to them with a huff, legs aching from overuse. She'd been running around too much the past few weeks. It would be nice to finally settle down in her and Chat's apartment when things were situated.

Speaking of Chat Noir… They had a few more details to figure out, didn't they?

Marinette kicked her shoes off as she mentally crossed off the things they'd already covered for their future move-in. They had decided Chat would sign the lease to avoid identity-drama and that she would give him half of the rent each month in cash, as well as setting their personal boundaries. Masks were to be worn at all times, except when they went to their rooms for the night to sleep or during showers, and every week they would take turns with who covered the grocery shopping.

(Although Chat Noir had begged her for them to go together just once since he'd admitted—much to Marinette's surprise—that he'd never been grocery shopping once in his life. The rich little asshole.)

The subject of friends and family visiting had been discussed lightly over a late rooftop dinner during their last meeting. While she and her partner had snacked on sub sandwiches from a local deli, they'd decided that for friends to visit, they needed to give each other plenty of warning so the other could find a place to disappear to for a while. That, or they would stay in their rooms for the period of time the friends were over and pretend to be busy (or napping.)

They were set to check out the place in two days. Marinette would go as her civilian self first, and Chat Noir second to seal the deal.

The excitement caused Marinette's hands to tremble as she slipped off her long socks. This—them moving in together—was really happening, and it was happening soon. Sooner than she had anticipated. Within weeks she would be moved out of her childhood home and into an apartment with her dearest friend, where they would share belongings, watch movies, and share meals. She'd even have Chat Noir tutor her for her science classes since he loved the subject so much.

Of course, they still had to figure out how they would decorate the place and set rules to keep the identities safe. But that was a subject for a later date.

"Are you meeting Adrien tonight, Marinette?" Tikki asked as she emerged from Marinette's purse, breaking her charge out of her reverie. The tiny god settled herself on a pillow as Marinette released her braid and began to brush out the wavy locks.

Nodding in response, Marinette smiled. "Mhm. He's picking me up at seven."

"That's good," Tikki said. "I bet his dad is going to love you."

Marinette played with the lace on her shirt. "I hope so."

"Don't worry!" Tikki said with an enthusiastic little hop. "He's going to adore you, Marinette. I just know it."

Standing from her chaise to check her appearance in her mirror, Marinette titled her head to the side at her reflection, chewing at her bottom lip in consideration. "I'm glad you think so, Tikki. If this plan with Adrien falls through I think both of us will be in a lot of trouble. I am a little nervous, too. I mean, I'll be officially meeting my idol, in his home of all places! We'll be having dinner and—although I have won some of his contests—I really hope he'll like me. I mean, I'm sure he will, and Adrien will be there just in case, but—"

"Don't worry yourself, Marinette," Tikki soothed. She flitted over to prop herself on Marinette's shoulder and began to smooth out a few loose strands in her dark tresses. "You're one of the most likable people in Paris. Besides, you're Ladybug, even without the mask. There's nothing you can't do. Who wouldn't like you? You're adorable!"

Laughing at Tikki's compliments, Marinette gave her a scratch under the chin, enjoying the way her tiny companion lifted her head up to the motion. "You flatter me, Tikki. Now," she said, making her way over to her closet to sift through her assortment of dresses, "I just need to find something to wear."

She'd decided to don one of the dresses she had crafted not too long ago.

It was a pretty black dress with a silky top that was adorned with black lace at the collar, and a skirt that was loose but comfortable, ending a few inches below her knee. Around her waist was a satin sash a few shades lighter than the dress itself. To the right side of her waist, violet flowers were placed pleasantly upon the sash, sewn together with care in every stitch. It was a design Marinette adored, and she recalled the process fondly. It had taken her weeks to complete, especially the flowers; those had been incredibly difficult to shape correctly due to the type of sheer fabric she'd used, but the pain of the production had been far worth it—the dress was one of her favorites to date. Even if it wasn't as complex as some others.

Once she was dressed, Marinette pulled her hair up into a bun, allowing a few loose strands to dangle in front of her ears. On her neck she wore a silver necklace lined with diamonds her grandmother had given her when she was very young, and for her footwear she pulled out her favorite pair of black ankle-strap heels from the back of her closet. She didn't wear them often—those were reserved only for special occasions, and tonight warranted their use.

She finished off the look with mascara and winged eyeliner, as well as a touch of red lipstick. Part of Marinette was sad she couldn't wear a pair of dangling earrings, but removing her Miraculous was something she'd never even dream of doing. No—those earrings stayed in place. They were too precious of an item to lose, much less to think of leaving them at home for a night.

"You look so beautiful, Marinette," Tikki sighed as she rested on her shoulder, gazing at her chosen's reflection fondly. "You've really grown up into a bedazzling lady."

Marinette giggled appreciatively. "Why thank you, Tikki. I think I look nice too."

"Good," Tikki replied. "You should. And you know what?" A teasing grin split Tikki's face as she said, "I think Adrien will, too."

Red flushed to Marinette's cheeks before she had a chance to stop it. She felt embarrassed to blush over a comment like that, especially when her intention for the night was only to seal a fake deal with Adrien and to impress his father. Really, her face had no business getting so hot at the thought of Adrien liking her appearance. She didn't need him to think she was pretty to feel good… She could do that well enough on her own!

(Still, her heart fluttered at the notion.)

Her phone vibrated as Adrien let her know he was outside. She wondered if the cat emojis he'd sent along with the message were truly necessary.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette allowed herself a moment to steady her nerves before she descended from her bedroom, heels quietly clicking against the wood of the stairs. Her parents were closing up the bakery for the night so she had no qualms walking down into the shop, stopping to give them each a hug—a light one, albeit, due to their clothes being covered in flour—before fanning her face in a final attempt to rid the apprehensive bubbles in her stomach.

She had told her parents about her "move-in" with Adrien the day before. They'd been overjoyed, happy to know that their daughter was going to be living with someone they knew and trusted rather than a complete stranger. Marinette felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for lying to them, but… She had to do what she had to to live with her partner.

As she walked out to where Adrien was waiting with an umbrella, she grinned at the compliments and praise towards her appearance her parents shouted out through the doors, hiding her face behind her black clutch as she approached her long-time friend.

Adrien was silent as he walked her to his car—at least, she assumed it was his—umbrella in one hand to shield them from the rain and green irises blown wide. Marinette smiled up at him, feeling a tad awkward under his gaze, and was thankful when he cleared his throat and glanced away with a tint of pink to his cheeks. Oh, he was so cute. His blush only added to that fact.

"Sorry," he apologized with a laugh. "You look really nice, Marinette. You're gorgeous—I mean—! That dress is gorgeous!" His eyes fell to the floor before he shoved a hand in his pocket. "Where did you get it? I don't recognize the brand."

Giving a little twirl, Marinette grinned with pride. "Actually, I made it myself a few months ago. You… You like it?" She twiddled with her fingers in a sort of nervous fashion, awaiting his answer. He looked quite handsome himself, done up with black dress pants and a white long-sleeved shirt with a black vest buttoned over it, complete with matching belt and tie. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up, and Marinette had to avert her eyes from his arms before she gawked at the muscles that were hidden underneath his golden skin.

"It's beautiful," he said as he opened the car door for her. It was a black Maserati; a car Marinette would have never imagined touching, much less receiving a chance to ride within one. "You look really great."

"Thanks," she replied with a blush, slipping into the passenger seat. "Is this—" she paused to look at the interior in awe, "your car?"

Adrien shook his head as he sat behind the wheel, tapping the umbrella outside before closing it and tossing it in the backseat. "It's one of my dad's. I have a bike, but figured it was probably a bad idea to drive that tonight, since, you know… The rain."

"And the dress," Marinette added with a grin. "You drive a motorcycle? Why is that so weird for me to think about?"

As Adrien started up the car, he chuckled. "Probably because it's a super rebellious thing my dad hates."

"Really?"

Adrien offered a shrug. Turning on the headlights and windshield wipers, he began to drive down the street, frowning as the rain really began to pour in buckets. "Yeah. I guess it was an impulse thing. He's really overprotective to the point where it's overbearing and didn't even want me driving myself anywhere, ever, so… It was sort of a birthday gift to myself. And an even bigger middle finger to my dad."

A loud laugh broke itself free from Marinette's throat and she slapped a hand to her lips the moment the sound rose into the air, feeling everywhere from her shoulders to the tips of her ears redden in embarrassment from the noise she'd made. "Sorry," she said, voice wavering from her giggles, "that's just funny to think about. You went out and bought the most dangerous vehicle just to spite him. It's hilarious."

"Yeah, well," Adrien said with a playful roll of his eyes, glancing down to look at the time once he'd reached a stoplight. "Père and I are always doing crazy stuff like that. It's like we're constantly trying to one-up each other or something."

Marinette's smile curved downwards. Well, that wasn't healthy. No wonder Adrien wanted to get out of his house. "Oh, I'm sorry," was all she could say.

"It's alright," Adrien said. He flashed her a smile as the car began moving again. "I'm getting out of there soon, thanks to you. He's gonna love you, though. Promise."

She hoped so. She really did hope so.

They pulled into the Agreste manor, Marinette watching with wide eyes as the large iron gate opened and closed with their presence. Adrien parked in the garage so they wouldn't get wet, which Marinette was thankful for, even as he insisted on being a gentleman by getting out to open the door for her. She felt her heart skip a beat as he helped her step out of the car with a gentle grasp of her hand.

His skin was warm. Marinette mourned the lost contact the moment he let go.

"I'm a little nervous," she admitted as they entered the foyer. Her heels clicked against the marble flooring with each trembling step, her head swiveling around to take in the sheer size of Adrien's home. "I hope I don't screw anything up. I'm sorry in advance if I say something silly."

That sad portrait of a teenaged Adrien and his father was still hanging above the staircase.

The dimples on Adrien's cheeks showed as he smiled down at her. He was so tall now, practically a whole thirty centimeters above her without the heels. Running a hand through his hair, he told her, "You'll be fine, Mari. I have complete faith in you."

Her cheeks flushed once more. She gazed up at him through her lashes with the intent of saying something of the same nature, but her track of speech was interrupted by his father's assistant.

"Adrien," the woman—Nathalie, was it?—said, tired-looking eyes trained on the tablet in her perfectly manicured hands. "Your father is ready for you and Mme. Dupain-Cheng. He hasn't been waiting long."

Marinette cupped a hand to her elbow. Jeez, why was everyone so formal? Was she supposed to be acting that way?

Adrien patted Marinette on the back in an act of reassurance as he nodded at the woman. "Thanks, Nathalie. We'll be right there."

Once Nathalie left the room, Adrien placed both of his hands on Marinette's shoulders, green gaze blinking down at her with pure appreciation. He squeezed her skin gently with one hand and winked at her, and that was all it took for Marinette to feel like a school-aged girl again with a crush on one of her best friends. She gulped, looking up at him with her teeth anxiously nibbling on her lower lip before remembering that she was wearing lipstick and foregoing her ministrations.

"Remember the plan?" Adrien asked.

Marinette wasn't sure she could remember anything with him looking at her like that.

"Uh," she said, eyes falling towards the floor. "Convince your dad we're really moving in together and that we're just friends so he won't get suspicious."

Adrien's expression turned proud. Bowing towards her with one hand outstretched, he grinned, shooting her a wink for good measure. "After you, your majesty."

The girlish giggle that escaped from her mouth was almost disconcerting.

The dining room was bigger than Marinette had remembered. She'd only been in it a few choice times, like Christmas dinner years ago when she was merely fourteen, and another instance where she, along with Alya and Nino, had secretly stayed the night and ventured down to the kitchen in the middle of the night for snacks—only to be disappointed when all Adrien had to offer was veggie plates and organic cheeses, other than the store of Camembert he hid away in his room.

She still didn't understand that.

As Marinette's gaze landed on Gabriel's, her shoulders stiffened, back straightening out of impulse to appear as proper as she could. Her fingers gripped at her clutch, the pads of her skin leaving indents in the leather. Adrien's arm brushed against her back as he came up from behind her and Marinette nearly jumped out of her own skin. Goodness, if she went the whole night feeling this on edge she'd be sweating herself out of her dress in no time!

"Relax," Adrien whispered into her ear. He placed his hands on her shoulders to give them a gentle push down. "You're standing like a beanpole. Don't worry so much—you'll do just fine."

His reassuring smile was all she needed to will her muscles to lose their stiffness.

Adrien pulled out a chair for her at the long mahogany table. Marinette took his offer to sit gladly, smoothing out the wrinkles in the skirt of her dress once she was comfortable.

"Father, this is Marinette," Adrien began, sitting next to her with a kind grin. "I'm sure you recognize her."

After taking a sip of his wine and regarding her with an unwavering stare, Gabriel nodded. "Of course. It's nice to formally meet you, Mme. Dupain-Cheng."

"Nice—" Marinette cleared her throat, doing her best not to flush at how high-pitched her voice had sounded. God, her nerves were skyrocketing. She feared that the silverware would jump right out of her hands from how much they were shaking. "N-nice to meet you too, M. Agreste. I'm a big fan of your work."

Gabriel didn't smile at that. Instead, he nodded. "Yes, my work does inspire many a fan. I'm glad to hear that."

Adrien's expression turned flat. Marinette almost laughed at how quickly his face had soured.

When one of their personal chefs came to ask for their dinner request, Gabriel ordered a chicken dish for them all. Marinette didn't mind; the arrange of poultry and vegetables sounded great. Anything that would ease the quiet rumbling of her stomach would do wonders for both her hunger and her nerves.

The conversation was awkward as they waited for the food to arrive. Marinette's hands were trembling so fiercely under the table that Adrien enveloped them with one of his own, giving her knuckles a delicate squeeze that sent a surge of warmth to rush through her veins.

"So," Gabriel said, effectively breaking the silence. "Let's just get straight to the point: you two are moving in together."

Marinette almost choked on her own spit. Her leg began to jiggle on the floor. Dang, no small-talk, no polite inquiries, just immediately to what she'd come over for. Gabriel certainly wasn't a man who stalled.

Adrien nodded with an affirming sound. "Yes, Père. We're really looking forward to it. Right, Mari?"

Baffled by the way Adrien lied with such ease, Marinette breathed out slowly, attempting to calm herself before she became overworked with anxieties. Fuck, this was worse than a final exam. She felt like she was at a job interview to be deemed as a reasonable friend of his son.

Swallowing around the brittle lump in her throat, Marinette grinned perhaps a tad too wide to be realistic, mimicking Adrien's nod a bit more forcefully. She relaxed slightly when Adrien squeezed her hands again. "Oh, yes! We've been talking about it for weeks—months—a-and are so- so excited to finally be able to move out of our homes, haha..."

"I see." Taking a long sip of his wine, Gabriel placed the glass back on the table with a soft clink. "So, you've been thinking about this for months, then?"

Adrien gave a forced smile. "O-of course! It's been on our mind for the longest time, and we finally decided that you know, we're ready to make it official…"

Gabriel's expression hadn't changed all night, except for the brief cock of his brow. "Roommates, hm? That is what you're ready to make official?"

He wasn't buying it. Marinette instantly picked that up. Although the man was as stoic as a block of stone, the vibe he was giving off was intense suspicion, and Marinette felt like if he didn't let up soon, she was going to break.

"Are you sure you two aren't…" The older man paused as he rolled the wine in his glass, watching the red liquid swish around in the bowl. "...More than just roommates? If you are, there's no reason to hide it. Unless you're afraid I may disapprove, in which I'd only disapprove if you're actively trying to hide it from me." He adjusted his glasses once more, eyes like ice as he gazed into Marinette's fucking soul. "I don't have a reason to disapprove of your relationship, do I?"

That was it.

"Adrien!" Marinette exclaimed, scooting out her chair so forcefully that it screeched as she almost toppled backwards. "I have to go to the bathroom can you please show me where it is rightnowthanks!"

He didn't have a chance to reply before she grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the dining room.

"Marinette!" Adrien hissed in a whisper, stumbling over his own feet as she pulled him into the foyer and down a dimly lit hallway. "Where are you going?"

Halting in front of a door to what she assumed was to a bathroom, Marinette released his arm and pressed her palms against her head, two seconds away from a Mental Breakdown™. "He thinks we're dating!" she wheezed, pulling at the loose strands of hair that hung in front of her ears. "He totally thinks we're dating. He knows this is a ploy. Are we screwed? I feel like we're screwed."

"Woah, woah," Adrien said, eyes blown wide as he held up his hands in an attempt to calm her nerves. "It's alright, Marinette. We'll figure something out."

"Is he one of those weirdly protective parents that disapproves of people living together before marriage?" Marinette asked, feeling a wave of panic washing over her. Their plan was going to fail! "Is he going to make us get married? Because I don't know if I'm ready for that type of commitment-"

"No! No," Adrien croaked, shoulders hunching as he averted her gaze. "No marriage. But… It's taken a lot of convincing to get him to think we're just friends, and I still don't think he believes me. He's starting to get suspicious. If he knows we're lying, I..." He dragged his hands down his face, musing his hair completely, voice quiet as his expression morphed into one of utter defeat. "I don't know. This was a dumb idea in the first place. I'm so sorry I dragged you into this, I... Do you want me to take you home?"

Marinette frowned at the way his back slumped self-consciously, her heart wrenching at the thought of leaving him there to figure the situation out by himself. "Adrien, no, it's okay. We can still do this. We just need a better plan."

What that plan was, well… Marinette had no idea. Whatever they were going to do, they had to do it fast—they couldn't stay in the "bathroom" all night, after all.

Hand reaching back at his nape, Adrien met her eyes with a somewhat pained knit of his brow. Marinette wanted to reach out and hug him and let him know that everything was going to be just fine. They could pull through this. She wasn't the type to give up so easily.

With an awkward shuffling of his feet, Adrien glanced back at the hallway. No doubt his father was wondering where they'd run off to. If they were gone any longer he might assume they'd just up and left, which would soil their plan completely, but Marinette wouldn't allow that. Both she and Adrien were on a mission and she wasn't leaving until they'd accomplished it.

Adrien was silent for a while. As he scratched at his neck in thought, Marinette opened her mouth to speak, to say anything—but her words were cut short when her friend's eyes brightened, lips parted as an idea visibly struck his mind.

Clearing his throat, Adrien stood up straight, one hand messing with the knot on his tie. "So, he thinks we're dating, right?" he asked, causing Marinette to cock her head to the side. "Okay, this is going to sound weird, but hear me out: what if we were?"

Marinette broke into a coughing fit.

Air refused to pass to her lungs, getting caught somewhere in her throat. Adrien's expression morphed to one of panic and he gave a couple taps to her back, attempting to help her clear her airway of whatever was blocking it, his voice ringing in her ears as he asked over and over again whether or not she was okay.

She had died, but that was beside the point.

"Adrien—" she rasped, finally having composed herself. "I'm flattered, really, but shouldn't we hang out a little more before we decide to take a step like that? I-I mean, not that I'd be opposed to dating you, but-"

"I didn't finish," Adrien said, rubbing slow circles on her back as she regulated her breathing. "Not for real dating, just like… Pretend. To convince my dad that he can trust us to move in together. If he thinks we're lying about our relationship, then he won't trust that we're actually living together. He'll think we're hiding something from him."

"But we would be lying about our relationship!" Marinette exclaimed, cupping a hand over her mouth at how her voice echoed in the hallway. "I don't know, Adrien. I hate to lie more than I already am, and this whole thing is kind of turning into a huge mess."

She knew from the start that it was going to be messy, but… It was all sort of spiraling out of control at this point.

Weighing the pros and cons of having a fake relationship with Adrien in her head, Marinette gnawed at her bottom lip, foot tapping on the ground as her mind reeled with information. On one hand, pretending to be dating Adrien would make the situation with his father blow over easily, and possibly even get him to trust her more than he would as just Adrien's friend. She would be able to spend more time with Adrien if they had to pretend to be dating, which was a plus. It would give them an excuse to get to know themselves again after their five-month absence from each other's life.

However…

If she and Adrien were "in a relationship," telling her friends and family out of nowhere would make them go nuts. Especially Alya. Alya of all people knew that she and Adrien were nothing more than friends, so the ruse wouldn't trick her in the slightest. Her parents, on the other hand, would be saddened to hear that she had been hiding a secret "boyfriend" for a while without ever mentioning him, and was suddenly moving in with him without so much as a mention of her relationship.

But… Who said they had to lie to anyone other than Gabriel? Alya would understand if she told her the truth. All of their friends knew Gabe was a complete asshat. And she didn't even need to mention the whole relationship thing to her Maman or Papa; they were happy just knowing their daughter was moving in with a friend they could trust.

"Actually…" Marinette said after a moment, eyes rising from the floor to meet the irises of her friend. "You know what? That might just work."

As Adrien bit into his knuckle in consideration, the sneaky grin that split his face was one Marinette found eerily familiar. "Alright," he said before he let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Alright. Let's do this. Here." Grabbing her hand, Adrien smiled, white teeth shining in the low light of the hallway. "Let's walk back like this, okay? We've been gone for a while, so we'd better head back before dad has an aneurysm."

"It's been six minutes," Marinette laughed as they walked back into the foyer. She tried to ignore the way her heart was beating a tattoo into her chest from how hard it thumped against it. "So, um, what do we say?"

Adrien leaned in to whisper in her ear once they'd made it to the dining room. "Just follow my lead."

Chapter Text

Adrien had told her to simply follow his lead.

Easy, Marinette thought, just follow Adrien's lead when he told Gabriel Agreste, his father, that they were very much dating and in love and moving in together like it was the most trivial thing she had ever done. Sure, she would happily let Adrien take the reins of the conversation and lead her through the mess that had become of her life. That was fine! She would be just fine, lying to his father—her idol!

(How could she do that without having a complex, though?)

She stayed quiet. Sitting next to Adrien as they returned to the table was a chore itself, as her legs refused to sit still and her fingers twitched against the skirt of her dress, no doubt wrinkling the soft material beyond redeemable measures. There had to be an iron somewhere, but she couldn't focus on her outfit at the moment. It was go-time—the fated moment to convince Adrien's stick-up-the-butt of a father that he could trust them to live together, and that she wasn't a homicidal murderer that had intents to drag Adrien down a cellar and wear his skin.

(That was a terrible image for her mind to supply while she was about to eat dinner.)

"Sorry we were gone so long," Adrien apologized. He picked up his knife and fork as he saw that their dinner had been served in their absence. "I lost one of my contacts and couldn't find it."

That was a clever lie. Adrien was too good at this. She barely remembered that he wore contacts.

"Well, I hope you located it," Gabriel replied without glancing up from his plate.

Adrien nodded. "Yep. All good now." Taking a bite of asparagus, he continued after he'd swallowed his mouthful. "So, Père, I know you've asked me a lot whether or not I'm seeing anyone and I've always avoided the subject. I wanted to bring something up since you'd, um, asked if Marinette and I were dating and well…" He shot her a glance just to confirm that she was really okay with where this was going before finishing his statement, "We weren't sure how to tell you at first, but the truth is—"

"—we are," Marinette completed for him. It was grating to lie so simply. She grabbed his hand for good measure, cheeks reddening at the way Adrien's thumb brushed across her knuckles. Her mind went blank after that, which was fantastic, because she'd been preparing to say more.

Thanks, Adrien, for your commitment to the ugly little lie baby we've conjured up together, she thought bitterly. It's despicable.

Kicking herself, Marinette straightened her shoulders as she mentally reminded herself that lying was a necessity, just for the night. (No matter how much she detested the thought of doing so.)

Gabriel made no haste in answering. He chewed his food slowly, considering his words for an entire two minutes before he offered a response. Marinette and Adrien shared a look, and Adrien gave a discreet roll of his eyes. Oh, the drama in this house was a bit too much to bear.

The only word that escaped from Gabriel's cold lips was, "Oh."

Adrien took in a breath with a determined expression, waiting until his father met his eyes to say something. "I'm sorry for lying. I just wasn't sure how you'd take to the news of me moving in with a girlfriend."

Hehe. Girlfriend.

"Lies build distrust, Adrien," Gabriel sniffed. He cut into his chicken with a distasteful frown. "And distrust is something I don't want to feel towards you."

Marinette instinctively narrowed her eyes as she chewed on her food. Didn't he already, though?

She sipped the glass of wine that had been poured for her to keep herself quiet. It was almost as bitter as the tension in the room.

"There was no reason to hide that information from me," his father continued, leaning back into his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Marinette could see the exhaustion in his eyes, and the bags underneath them were almost the same shade as her dress. "Actually, the fact that you kept it secret is what's more aggravating than the thought of you up and leaving so suddenly. I'm not sure what's gotten into you."

Yeesh. Never had Marinette felt more awkward in her life than she did in that moment. Witnessing Adrien, a twenty-one-year-old capable adult, being scolded by his father was probably more embarrassing for him than it was for herself, but she still felt the desire to slink away and hide under the table.

Adrien's gaze fell downcast. He poked at his food with his fork, and Marinette didn't miss the way his brow furrowed in annoyance. "I'm sorry, father, really. I just wasn't sure how to bring it up. We never really get time to talk much anymore."

"Nevermind," Gabriel said, dismissing the subject. Perhaps he noticed how uncomfortable Marinette was feeling and decided the situation was best dealt with at a later date. "Where are you two going to live? Somewhere safe, I hope. I won't have my son staying in a dangerous part of the city."

The dude could learn to lay off a little in Marinette's opinion. Sure, he was looking out for his kid and all, but… Adrien was an adult. He could take care of himself.

Deciding it was her turn to speak, Marinette said, "A nice little place about twelve minutes away. It's in a good part of town and has a beautiful view. It's small but cozy. Comfortable."

She blinked in question as Adrien gaped at her. What, had she read his mind? She was only describing her and Chat Noir's place since it wasn't technically a lie. That's where she was going, anyway.

Gabriel hummed in response. "And you both are happy with this decision?"

As a show of affection to convince his father further, Adrien squeezed Marinette's hand, giving her his best "I'm totally smitten with you" smile. The one she offered in return was much less of a fake.

"Yeah," he said. "We're happy."

"Then that's all that matters," his father said. "I'm glad to hear you're happy with what you've decided."

Well… That was surprising. The whole conversation itself had been surprising. Nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing, sure—but ultimately surprising.

Their plan worked. Their plan had worked! Marinette wanted to cheer out loud and pop open a bottle of champagne to celebrate.

The smile Adrien directed at her was blinding, and the sparkle in his eyes made her feel like she was dancing on clouds. It all felt so… Surreal. Part of her couldn't believe this was really happening.

(She still couldn't come to terms with the fact that she and Adrien were, in fact, now in a pretend relationship that his father was convinced was very much real.)

There was a beat of silence before Gabriel spoke up again. "What do you do for a living, Mme. Dupain-Cheng?"

The question caught her off-guard, but she straightened herself and prepared a response. What was with the formalities, though? Would it kill the guy to call her by her first name?

"Well," Marinette began, crossing her legs underneath the table. "I-I'm uh- I'm a designer. It's my passion; has been as long as I can remember. I dream to have my own fashion line someday."

"She's really great," Adrien cut in before his father had a chance to respond. "It's amazing what she can do. She's one of the best I know, really. She even made that dress she's wearing."

Oof. It certainly felt weird to have Adrien praising her in front of his dad. She didn't want him fishing for compliments for her, although she appreciated the enthusiasm. He was only trying to help. Still, her cheeks flushed, and as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear to busy herself, Adrien beamed at her.

"Oh, well yes," she said, trying to brush it off so she wouldn't seem conceited about her work. "I did, but-"

Gabriel adjusted his glasses and placed his hand on his chin in thought. "Would you mind standing up?"

Marinette's eyes widened, but she complied anyway. The chair groaned as she scooted it across the floor. "Oh, um. Yes, of course!"

Gabriel's eyes roamed the dress, taking in its design. While Marinette was a little uncomfortable with her friend's father staring her up and down, the idea of her fashion idol admiring her work made her want to scream and swing from the chandelier in a sort of excitement that caused her to feel like she either wanted to cry from joy or throw up all over the pristine dining room.

(She'd avoid doing the latter to the best of her ability.)

"Exquisite," Gabriel said, voice soft. "That's a beautiful design, Marinette. Do you have any other examples of your work with you? Like a sketchbook?"

Shoot, she really should have thought to bring her sketchbook. Marinette shook her head as she sat back down. Her hands trembled so fiercely that she feared her fingers would fall right off her body. "Oh, well, I…"

"Don't you have an online boutique, Marinette?" Adrien supplied.

"Sort of," Marinette said. She shrugged, unsure of how to feel from his constant encouragement. "It's more of an online shop, really. B-but it's a nice hobby to do on the side."

Once their stomachs were full and plates cleaned, Gabriel dabbed at his face with a napkin and sat up, clasping his hands together on the table. "Could I see some photos, if you have any?"

Squeaking in surprise and astounded that her idol in fashion had just asked to see photos of her work, Marinette nodded furiously, pulling her phone out from her clutch and opening her gallery. She had a folder dedicated to pictures of her finished works and sketches, so she eagerly handed over her cellphone, watching with bated breath as Gabriel—Gabriel Agreste—swiped through her camera roll.

"Where do you work now, Marinette?" Gabriel asked. His eyes were still trained on the device in his hands.

Cheeks reddening and voice faint, Marinette said, "Beaux Textiles, a little fabric shop just down the street from here."

"I thought I saw you in there the other day!" Adrien gasped, grin widening three times its size. "I could have sworn that was you in the window, but I wasn't sure enough to say hi. Aw, man, I wish I had gone in now."

Marinette giggled at his excitement. He was like Alya had said: a golden retriever.

"I figured you would know where your girlfriend is employed at, Adrien," Gabriel said, still looking through the photos. The upper right corner of his mouth quirked—was he smiling? "Marinette, I don't think you should continue to work in a fabric shop. It's not the right place for you."

Both her and Adrien's heads whipped around to stare at Gabriel. Adrien's expression morphed into a glare as Marinette's heart sank to the very bottom of her shoes. She couldn't help the way her chest flared up in anger, and she had to take a moment to calm down and stop herself from crossly telling Adrien's father how wrong he was.

Her idol didn't think she deserved to work in a fabric shop? Her designs weren't that bad! Some of them were quite stunning, if she said so herself!

Adrien was quick to rise to her defense. "Father, what the hell-"

"You didn't let me finish," Gabriel interrupted. He pushed his glasses up his nose to adjust them before returning Marinette's phone to her shaking hands, his icy gaze stilling on her own eyes, which threatened to water if he continued to insult her work. Not from sadness, however, but anger. She had always been an angry crier.

Just as she was about to speak her mind (and probably ruin the whole night completely), Adrien pressed a hand to her bicep, looking at her with a silent apology for his father's crass behavior.

"Marinette," Gabriel said, voice calm; collected. "I don't want to see you working in a tiny shop on the corner anymore. Selling fabric while designing as a hobby will get you nowhere. You have talent, it's obvious. I don't want to see someone like you wasting it. If you'd be willing, I'd love to have you working for me, instead."

Marinette's jaw dropped.

What. WHAT?

"Wh-" It took a moment for her voice to return to her body from wherever it had fled. "Wh-what? You're—you're serious? You want me to work for you?"

No interview? No grueling application process that left her in tears from frustration? No internship, no degree, no- no nothing? He was going to offer her a job, just like that. That was unheard of!

"Your skills would be of great use at Gabriel," he told her. "Of course, I wouldn't be able to offer you your own office, but there is a place for you. I imagine you'll go far if you take this opportunity."

Adrien was shaking her arm with excitement. The movement was beginning to make her feel queasy.

Placing a hand over Adrien's to cease his movements, she nodded, feeling breathless as she answered, "Yes. Yes, of course! I- I don't even know what to say, I—" she paused to gulp in a breath of air, "I… Thank you. This is a dream come true."

Were there tears in her eyes? From how shaky her voice felt she wouldn't be surprised.

Gabriel grinned, and that was the first and only time Marinette had ever seen the man truly smile. "Great," he said. "Can you start immediately?"

 "I can't believe that happened!" Marinette squealed, practically skipping down the sidewalk in her heels. "Your dad just offered me a job. Am I dreaming? I feel like I'm going to faint. Will you catch me if I faint? Oh, jeez." She slumped backward into Adrien's arms, who let out a warm laugh at his friend's antics when he caught her.

"To be honest, I didn't expect that to go so well," he said. He lifted her back up to her feet. "So now not only are we friends, fake boyfriend and girlfriend, but also coworkers."

The rain had stopped long ago, leaving the city in a damp glow with puddles lining the streets and droplets of water splashing onto the sidewalk from awnings of cafés and buildings. It was dark, but the yellow lights illuminated their path just enough for them to walk peacefully as Adrien lead her home.

Marinette hopped over a puddle in the middle of the walkway, glancing back at her friend with a grin. "I didn't think he'd buy it. The whole fake dating thing worked wonders on him."

"He really likes you," Adrien said, walking at her side. "I mean, like… He really does. I think he's happy that we're together. Figuratively, at least."

Hearing Adrien say that they were together caused a shiver to run up her spine. Even if it was for pretend… It was still nice for the words to come from his mouth.

Dinner had lasted longer than she had expected. After their plates had been taken away and Marinette happily accepted her new position at Gabriel, the conversation had dulled until Adrien's father excused himself for the night. She and Adrien had stayed at the table, however, laughing and reminiscing about the things they used to do in their past and how much fun they would have as a group. Perhaps the both of them had downed a little too much wine, but it was nice to spend more time with him nonetheless—even if the evening had dragged on into the late hours of the night.

Kicking a stray pebble down the sidewalk, Marinette smiled, allowing their exchange to fade into a comfortable quietude. Adrien walked beside her with his hands in his pockets, so there was no accidental finger brushing like she was used to seeing in romance movies, which was a shame; that would have been adorably romantic.

A car rolled down the street beside them. Marinette stood to the side as it splashed through a puddle, thankful that she had jumped out of the way before her dress had been soaked. Her shoulder bumped into Adrien's, who grinned at her when she met his softening gaze. With his hair a mess (since he had such a bad habit of running his fingers through it when he was nervous) and his summer green eyes reflecting the lights of the city into her own, he looked ethereal—almost like a drop of sunlight that had graced Earth with its presence in the form of one gorgeous, kind-hearted boy.

She wondered if it would be silly to mention that she'd harbored a crush on him back in lycée.

"I had fun tonight," she said instead, placing a hand on her arm. "Really. Even though it was stressful, it was nice. I-" Her gaze fell to the damp sidewalk as a sudden self-conscious feeling washed over her. "I… Missed spending time with you."

Was that weird to admit? She felt slightly embarrassed by letting the words slip, but…

"Me too, Marinette," Adrien replied, head cocking to the side as if he was trying to catch her eyes. And oh, how badly she wanted to look at him and tell him that perhaps she still hadn't quite gotten over that age-old crush.

Cheeks heating, she laughed, unsure of the reason for her giggles but happy all the same. They were at least another ten minutes from the bakery, and Marinette couldn't help but wish they had more time to spend together. She had missed Adrien's presence so much. And, from the looks of it, he had missed hers as well.

"Hey," Marinette said after a moment, pausing under a streetlamp that illuminated her skin in a faint orange glow. "Remember last Christmas?"

Adrien broke into a string of guffaws. Hand pressed to his stomach, he leaned over, grabbing hold of the wet pole of the streetlamp to keep himself upright. "Oh, man," he breathed after a moment, having come down from his high of laughter. "I'm sorry. You mentioned Christmas and all I could think about was how completely wasted we both were and how you seriously wanted to eat an entire ham—"

Marinette's face flushed as she grinned, sheepish but relishing in the hilarious memory. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again!"

"You were so determined!" Adrien shot back, mirth in his tone. "You really wanted to bring that thing home with you."

"It was good, okay? Besides," she snorted. "That was no better than you trying to 'permanently borrow', or steal, Alya's cat."

It was with a feeling of victory that Marinette noticed Adrien was red-faced himself. "M. Wrinkles was so cute, though… How can you blame me?"

"Theft is wrong, Adrien!" she cackled. Oh, those memories would unfortunately never escape her—especially not the way Adrien had cried when Alya had taken her cat back from his sneaky clutches. He was quite the emotional drunk, that was for sure.

(Marinette was the affectionate type herself.)

"We had fun, though," he said after a moment, his smile reaching his eyes, dimples on his cheeks prominent and fingers still loosely wrapped around the lamppost. The fact that he'd used "had" instead of present tense made Marinette wilt on the inside. Her heart felt heavier than it had all night.

Unable to suppress the frown that curved her lips downwards, Marinette sighed, gaze retreating to the restaurant across the street where a band played a slow song. The sound was muffled due to the music wafting through closed doors, as the musicians were inside (most likely because it had rained.) Though the jubilation from their laughter had subsided, Marinette still found herself feeling glad that they had been able to act just as they had months ago; as if time had stopped and they hadn't spent five months apart with less than a measly phone call in between.

Adrien must have noticed her sudden change in mood. His voice was soft, curious as he asked, "What's wrong, Marinette?"

She could only offer a shrug. What could she say, that she was upset they hadn't spoken for five months? It was her fault as much as it was his. They'd both just been too busy after lycée, too preoccupied with life… She had never found time to call him. They hung out less after graduation. They didn't text as much and, eventually, over a year-and-a-half span they'd drifted until they went a whole five months without speaking so much as once. That was just how life was. People drifted. People… People changed.

But Adrien was still the same old golden retriever. Bright, selfless and absolutely wonderful in every conceivable way.

Marinette felt her heart swell with affection, though the feeling was tainted with her lingering sadness. She wondered what life would be like if they hadn't drifted. Maybe—maybe them moving in together wouldn't be a lie, at that point.

"I don't know," she said quietly, finding the courage to meet his eyes. "I'm just sad we didn't keep in touch. We were such great friends, you know? And then we graduated and everything changed. We were busy, Alya and Nino moved away, and then we just… Stopped seeing each other, until now. Why did we let that happen?"

Adrien reached behind his neck to scratch at the hairs on his nape. Looking away, his smile fell, shoulders slumping forlornly. "Why did we let that happen…?"

"I wish we hadn't," Marinette admitted.

"Me too."

After about forty seconds of uncomfortable silence, Adrien's posture straightened and his head turned to the restaurant across the street. The music had increased in volume. No longer was the sound of romance drifting into the streets, but something upbeat and happy—a tune that made Marinette want to twirl and dance and laugh and- and-

And have her hand in Chat Noir's again as he led her in a waltz along the rooftop like he had a little over a week ago.

It was with a startling realization that Marinette noticed the restaurant they were standing across the street from was the same one she and Chat had been perched upon that night. While the music was different, the atmosphere was the same: warm, pleasing sounds, the wonderful aroma of something delicious cooking, and the bright flash of the neon sign still so perfectly placed on the roof.

Marinette smiled.

"Hey," she said, voice softer than she had imagined it would be. Kicking off her heels, she shuddered momentarily as her bare feet connected with a puddle, hand outstretched in an offering to her friend of seven years (minus five months.) "Want to dance, fake boyfriend?'

Adrien's lips parted ever so slightly as he took in a breath. With a crack of a grin, he nodded, enveloping her hand within his own larger one. "I'd be honored, fake girlfriend."

His response was a tad delayed, but Marinette didn't mind; instead, she smiled and pulled him across the street, heels be damned. The road was slick and felt coarse underneath her skin, but it was worth it. The notion had immediately perked them both up back to their previous state of glee.

With memories of Chat Noir swimming in her brain, she placed Adrien's hand on her waist, allowing him to hold hers in his other. Her fingers lightly curled on the fabric of his shirt as they swayed to the rhythm, and she laughed as Adrien spun her, feeling a rush of something flow through her when he lowered her for a dip.

Everything felt wonderful and fast and hot and so, so wonderful.

"You're a good dancer," he told her as he righted her stance, eyes widening with amusement as she accidentally stepped on his toe. "Well, except for that."

Marinette playfully swatted him on the shoulder. "Screw you. I'm trying."

"Hey, hey," he said, pausing their movements to tut a finger at her. The corners of his mouth twitched. "Watch your language, Marinette. I won't be dating someone with such a foul vocabulary."

Smirking, Marinette breathed in in preparation to tell him to go fuck himself in the most loving form she could muster but decided to lay off the sailor's tongue for a bit more of a polite response. "Yeah, well," she said, giving his nose a gentle flick. "We're not really dating, so I can say whatever I want."

It was then she realized how little proximity there was left between their faces, and how nice Adrien's hands felt when both of them were placed on her waist.

"Okay, bossy," Adrien responded, amusement sparkling in his gaze. "Whatever you say."

The music had stopped.

They stood like that for quite some time. It was an odd sensation, to be held by Adrien like that. They weren't exactly wrapped up in each other's arms, per se, but his face was definitely too close to her own to be friendly, and the way his thumb was slowly rubbing circles into the fabric of her dress wasn't the most platonic thing she'd witnessed that night.

Well. This was new.

Deciding she felt awkward about their closeness, Marinette blushed, taking an apprehensive step backward. Her bare foot came in contact with a puddle. The chill she felt was startling; out of nowhere, her heart was racing frantically, her eyes blown wide and fingers fidgeting nervously.

"I-I had fun tonight," she said, again. "Thank you for letting me come over. A-and officially meet your dad. It was nice."

Adrien seemed taken aback by her sudden withdrawal but said nothing, hands retreating to his pockets in a sort of self-conscious motion. "Y-yeah," he said. His eyes didn't meet her own. "Thank you for helping me out with that. If it wasn't for you, I'd still be stuck living at home."

Right. It was all a ploy. This… This was all fake, wasn't it?

Fake girlfriend. Fake relationship. It was all pretend—they were pretending.

Clearing her throat to rid the shakiness she was sure would show in her voice, Marinette nodded, fingers curling into her clutch. She shivered as delicate raindrops began to slide down her skin and onto her clothing, momentarily mourning the fact that her dress was getting wet. A fat droplet of water splashed onto her nose. She rubbed it with her hand.

Figures it would start to rain again.

"It's no problem, really," Marinette assured, taking another step backward. "I'm um, sorry I freaked out earlier—"

Adrien smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He held up a hand in reassurance. "It's okay."

The rest of the walk home was silent.

Once they'd made it to the back door of the bakery, Marinette leaned against it, doused heels in hand and toes freezing. Her dress stuck to her skin from wetness and her hair had fallen out of her bun into slick, dripping stands, which pressed against her back as a cold reminder that they hadn't escaped the downpour. Her body shivered. A crack of thunder sounded in the sky as her nose threatened to run from the chill.

Adrien hadn't been spared from the weather either. His golden hair stuck to his forehead in a curly mess, and the white of his shirt had become see-through with the rain, which made Marinette thankful he was wearing a black vest to cover sights she wasn't prepared to feast her eyes on anytime soon.

("Feast" her eyes on… She didn't like the wording of that thought.)

Standing drenched and miserable, all the pair could do once they met each other's gaze was laugh.

"Hey," Adrien said, pushing his sopping bangs away from his eyes. "I'm really sorry I dragged you into this mess. I know asking you to come over tonight was really short notice and with the whole… Fake dating thing… Everything's kind of turned into shambles. But I'm really grateful you've done this for me. You're-" he smiled at her and it was blinding, "you're a really good friend, Mari."

Mari.

Feeling her insides become fuzzy and warm and right, Marinette placed a hand on her damp chest, feeling the aftermath of the multiple glasses of wine she'd had that night. "It's nothing, really. Like I said, if you need help with something, I'll be there. I mean, maybe we should have thought the whole 'fake relationship' thing through a little more, but… It works out for me, too. Now I can move in with my roomie without my parents or friends getting suspicious."

"Is there anything I can do in return?" Adrien asked. He sounded almost desperate—like he wanted to repay the favor although the plan was benefiting her as well. "Like if you want to grab dinner sometime or—"

Marinette bit her lower lip with a grin, forgetting the loss of her lipstick. Part of her—the tipsy half of herself—was tempted to invite him up to her bedroom, but she quickly scolded herself with a mental slap to the wrist because Adrien is in love with someone else, you dummy. Instead, she teased, "Why, Adrien, are you asking me out on a date?"

By the way Adrien's face flushed a deep red and his eyes widened comically, she felt something spark between them, her feet stumbling over air as she stood up straight.

Oh-

Oh shit. Maybe he was.

"Adrien!" she squeaked. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Adrien gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders, which looked hilarious considering he had his hands buried in his pockets. "I-I don't know!" he wheezed, looking almost as if he was panicking. "Maybe? Yes? N-nooo…? Yes? I really don't know. It'll be like a platonic outing between friends if that's something that happens-"

That made Marinette break into laughter. "Oh my gosh, Adrien," she snickered, cupping a hand over her mouth. "You're so awkward, it's adorable."

Adrien's lip jutted out into a pout as he crossed his arms. "Thanks," he deadpanned. "You know, I think I retract my previous statement. No date for you."

"So it is a date?"

"I-" Adrien held up a finger, scowling down at her. Though, his scowl wasn't the least bit threatening. He just looked like an exaggerated kitten whose fur was fluffed up to make itself seem tougher. "You win this time, Marinette."

Smirking triumphantly, Marinette stood up straight, crossing her arms underneath her breasts proudly. "I'm free on Fridays."

With a sigh of defeat, Adrien smiled, placing a hand on his heart. "She's after me for my money."

"Don't make me step on your toes again."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Speaking of dreaming…" Marinette said, shooting a glance up at her bedroom window. "It's getting late and I've had a little too much to drink and I'm probably going to turn in soon. You can come inside until it stops raining if you want, but I'm going to change out of these wet clothes first."

Adrien nodded, rubbing the hairs on his nape as his cheeks darkened to a shade of red. "O-oh, um, sure."

Wondering why he was looking at her like that, Marinette motioned with her head for him to follow her indoors, leading him up the stairs and to the main room of her home. She watched as Adrien went to sit on her couch but refrained due to his wet clothing, jerking himself upwards as he realized he was soaking wet and didn't want to track puddles all over the apartment. A laugh rose from Marinette's throat before she could stop it.

"What?" Adrien asked, jokingly offended.

"You," responded Marinette with a grin. "Wait here. I'm going to go get you a towel."

Adrien stood to the side in waiting. His eyes widened as he noticed the pond that had appeared at his feet from his dripping body and he shot her an apologetic look, but Marinette waved it off with a hand, nonchalant about the mess.

"Don't worry about it," she said. Her bare feet felt slippery on the wood flooring and she placed a hand on the railing of the stairs that led to her bedroom as a precaution. "That's nothing a towel can't fix."

Trailing rainwater up the stairs, Marinette sifted through the closet in her bedroom and pulled out two of her fluffiest, warmest pink towels, setting them on her chaise as she slipped out of her sopping clothes and dried herself. The towel felt so nice on her skin. She wanted to sit down and go straight to bed, but she couldn't exactly curl up onto her chaise without any clothing on, especially when Adrien was downstairs…

Well, she could, but then Adrien would be in her living room soaking wet and waiting for her to bring him a towel for hours. Unless he came to look for her, then that would be a whole different situation-

Marinette smacked her cheeks to snap herself out of whatever trance her mind was slipping into. After she donned a pair of pajamas—an oversized t-shirt and polka-dotted shorts—she returned back downstairs with one towel wrapped around her head and the other folded in her arms, dry and ready to be used by one order of tall, blonde and drop-dead gorgeous.

Adrien was still standing in the same spot. With his hands messing with his hair that was disheveled beyond redemption and a puddle beneath his feet, he looked like a drenched cat, grouchy from getting his fur wet.

"Here," Marinette chuckled, handing him the hot-pink towel. "There's not much I can do about the state of your clothing, but this should help a bit."

Smiling in thanks, Adrien took the towel from her hands and began to scrub his hair with it. "Thanks," he said. "I'd call my driver to come pick me up but I'm not supposed to bother him after eleven, so… Unless I want to walk home in the rain, I'm stuck here till it stops."

"I don't mind," Marinette assured him. She ventured into her kitchen and turned on the coffee maker with the intents of a nice, hot drink to warm her insides and help her relax for the night. "You want some coffee?"

Removing the towel from his head, Adrien looked at her with bright green eyes and golden hair that had frizzed up into an unruly mess. "Sure, Mari. Sounds great."

Marinette's heart jumped excitedly. Mari, Mari, Mari.

She loved that nickname so much.

It was too late at night for her to still be awake. Stifling a yawn so large that it made her whole body feel heavy, Marinette slumped into a chair at her dining table as she placed the two mugs of coffee atop the glass surface. Adrien joined her shortly after—still sopping wet—and smiled as he took a sip of his drink.

Marinette paused her movements of putting sugar into her own as she watched him drink his coffee straight black. "That is disgusting, Adrien."

Adrien swallowed, an expression of surprise evident in his confused gaze. "What?"

"Since when do you drink your coffee black?"

"Huh?" Glancing down into his mug, Adrien laughed. "You know what? I'm so tired I didn't even notice."

Oh my god. Marinette smacked a hand on her forehead. "That's so gross."

A grin split Adrien's face. "Says the girl who puts four sugars and three creamers into her coffee and still insists that it's not sweet enough."

Rolling her eyes with a playful smirk, Marinette chose to ignore his remark by taking a sip of her own drink. It was pleasantly hot as it rolled down her throat and filled her stomach, and she almost shuddered from how cozy the simple beverage made her feel. It was like her bed was calling her, awaiting her return to its beautiful, comforting clutches… Sleep would be so wonderful right now, wouldn't it…

"Marinette?"

Oh, Adrien's voice sounded so nice. He had such a nice voice and every word he said sounded like honey and sugar and everything she ever needed in life-

A tap on her arm jolted her awake from whatever stupor she had fallen in, startling her enough to slosh her coffee around in her mug and spill a few drops on the table. She scrubbed at her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, vision bleary. "Did you say something?"

Adrien sniggered behind his hand. "No, sleepyhead. You were drifting off pretty hardcore there."

The pouring rain outside hadn't subsided. It still pelted against the rooftops, cracked against the windows and poured down the side of Marinette's home. A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, and thunder rolled relentlessly above. The lights flickered momentarily.

She and Adrien had lapsed into a silence again. While the quietude wasn't awkward, it certainly didn't feel comfortable. The pair sipped on their coffee until their mugs were empty and the pot ran cold.

"It's so late," Marinette breathed, catching the time on the digital clock on her oven as she glanced at it. "We used to stay up this late all the time, didn't we?"

Adrien nodded in recollection. "Oh, yeah. It would be until five or six in the morning sometimes. Especially when we were playing video games."

"Man," Marinette laughed. "Those were fun times."

A second quiet followed. Adrien didn't offer more than a sad smile in response.

With a sigh, Marinette said, "I'm sorry we drifted apart, Adrien. I know we were both busy but we really shouldn't have let that happen, and I—"

"Hey, it's okay," Adrien said. He placed a hand on her own and Marinette felt herself falling. "It's my fault as much as it's yours. We didn't have much time, right? I was traveling and you were designing and in university. It's alright. At least we're talking now."

"We should have made time, though," Marinette murmured.

Adrien squeezed her hand. "Yeah, we should've… But we didn't. Let's just focus on now, okay? We won't let that happen again. We're… We're still friends. We are, aren't we?"

"Of course we are," Marinette responded. She sat up in her chair and rested her hand over Adrien's, which held her other so fondly. "Just because we drifted doesn't mean we're not friends anymore. I mean, we might not be as close anymore, but—"

Adrien wilted. "I'm sorry."

Poor Adrien. He felt so guilty and Marinette didn't know what to do…

"Don't apologize," she told him. "We're gonna fix this, okay? Just maybe when we're not tipsy and tired and soaking wet." She paused to yawn, allowing the relentless sleepiness to take over her body. Her exhaustion was beginning to show in her voice. "We'll see each other more. Especially now that we're working together."

He set his eyes on her, the corners of them crinkling just slightly as his lips twitched upwards. "Hey, does this make me your boss? Or am I just the handsome coworker you admire from afar?"

She huffed through her nose. "Neither."

Definitely not the second one, she deliberated in her mind. Not the second one, not the second one, not-

"Aw," he whined in disappointment. "And here I was under the impression that you thought I was cute."

Marinette's cheeks darkened. She looked away as she went to sip the nonexistent coffee from her empty mug. "Wh-where'd you get that idea?"

Adrien shrugged. His eyes shone like summer in the light of her home. "Just a guess."

The hours crawled by until the city was asleep and the rain had ceased, the clock in Marinette's kitchen ticking past two in the morning. Her parents would be waking up in two hours. She needed to send Adrien on his way before they scolded them both for staying up so late, just as they always had.

"The rain's stopped," Marinette said suddenly, unintentionally interrupting Adrien's captivating story about the "model from Hell" he had to work with the other day. "I didn't even realize how late it was. Gosh, I'm so tired."

Adrien nodded. "Yeah, I'm kind of sleepy too."

Stretching her arms high above her head, Marinette squeaked out a yawn and slumped in her chair, nearly sliding out of it from how intensely she'd relaxed. Her eyes felt like they had weights attached to the lids that were pulling them down, down, down… and her mind was so close to just slipping off into slumber...

"Marinette says it's time for Adrien to leave," Adrien laughed, standing from his chair and collecting their mugs before washing them at the sink. "Marinette also says that she's tired as heck and needs to fix her sleeping schedule right this moment."

Marinette gave a half-hearted mumble of something along the lines of either "shut up" or "be quiet," but all the came out was a tired, garbled jumble of words.

"You're going to bed," Adrien told her. He lifted her from her chair and stumbled as he held her in his arms. "Oh, dang, I'm too sleep-drunk to carry you right now. I'm gonna drop you going up the stairs."

With a snort of amusement Marinette righted herself to her feet. "That's a nice gesture, Adrien, but I can walk, you know. I'm going to bed now."

"She's kicking me out," Adrien said, voice shaky from a laugh. "Gee, am I glad you're not my roommate. You'd kick me out of my own home the first night when you got tired."

"Banned," Marinette joked as she began to walk—well, sway—up the stairs. "You are banned from ever visiting me again."

"That hurts."

"Leave," laughed Marinette, turning her head back to him with a smile wider than she'd been able to give these past few weeks. "Call an Uber and go home, Adrien."

Holding up his hands in mock defense, Adrien snickered, "I'm going, I'm going." He folded the towel he'd used hours before and set it on Marinette's table for easy access in the morning. "But, hey—promise we'll keep in contact, okay? Let's not do the whole 'not speaking to each other for five months' thing again."

They shared a laugh, but it wasn't a happy one.

"Alright," Marinette said. She opened her trapdoor and yawned. "Tell you what: I'll text you, but you have to promise to let me know when you're free one night. We're going out on that date you promised and you're gonna have fun."

Sticking out his tongue in a childish manner, Adrien took a step back. "If you say so."

"I'll be around to make sure you don't attempt to steal anyone's cat again," Marinette jested.

Adrien threw his hands up in the air. "That was one time!"

Laughing, Marinette shook her head as she walked up to her room, running her hand along the wall to flick on the light switch so she wasn't stumbling around in the dark. "Goodnight, Adrien. I'll see you around."

Adrien's voice rose from below. "'Night, Mari."

With a click of her door, he was gone.

Marinette crawled into bed that night feeling light and breathless.

Spending time with Adrien had been nice. Fun, even. It felt so good to be around him again.

(The flirting, she realized, was a complete upside. They had occasionally flirted back in lycée, of course, but it had never been to that extent before.)

With all the stress in her life from school and work and moving out, it felt wonderful just to spend a night with one of her best friends. And, even though they weren't as close as they used to be—as a few of their awkward encounters continued to prove—Marinette still felt glad to have him back. Sure, their friendship would need work, and they would need to communicate more often, but…

They were getting there. Slowly, but surely.

And to think that sometime soon she and Adrien had a date. Her younger self would have positively died.

(As if her present self wouldn't, though.)

Things were different, yes, and soon her life would be turned upside down—in a day's time she and Chat Noir would finally seal the deal on their apartment—but she was ready.

Marinette was ready to face the world if she needed to.

Chapter Text

Moving day would soon be upon them.

Marinette patted her cheeks with her bare hands, her breath coming in quick, silent gasps. The nerves were starting to get to her in a way that made her stomach wrestle uncomfortably with her throat. She squinted her eyes shut as she stood in line at a coffee shop, the warm, bitter scent of coffee beans and fresh pastries filling her nostrils and making her head spin. It was all sort of overwhelming, the smells and sounds and thoughts swimming around in her head, and she just wanted to pick up the lattes the morning models had ordered and get back to work before her boss, Gabriel Agreste, complained about her elongated absence.

Three days. There were merely three days until she and Chat Noir—her partner, her most trusted friend and colleague—would be moving into the same apartment together.

Together, she mused, we're moving in together, holy shit-

"What can I get for you?"

Snapping out of her reverie, Marinette looked up to see that the barista (who looked like she could use some caffeine herself from the dark bags that hung underneath her eyes) had asked for her order. Which, at the moment, completely eluded Marinette's mind. Scrambling to open up the memo note on her phone where she'd written the orders down, she read them off one by one, getting a simple mocha frappuccino for herself to sip on during the walk back.

(She needed her caffeine too, after all.)

At least it was a short walk. The coffee shop was only seven minutes up the road from Gabriel and was a favorite for most employees.

As she waited for her order, Marinette sat at a table by the window. The sun was shining so brightly outside that she had to glance away from the street due to its reflection off of the adjacent shop's window. She went to rub her eyes—because, damn, she was tired—but stopped herself right before her knuckles brushed her skin. Right; she was wearing makeup. There would be no smudged eyeliner today, no sirree. Not when she was about to head back to work and see Adrien all prettied up in a spring suit he'd be modeling for the company's latest fashion magazine.

Adrien had offered to pick up the coffees himself, but Marinette declined. She was, at the moment, just a seamstress who fixed loose threads or tears in fabrics on models' clothing, so being gone for less than a half hour wouldn't be too much of a big deal. Besides, it gave her time to collect her thoughts.

A bird chirped outside. Marinette watched it flutter from one of the many trees that adorned the city sidewalks as she waited for her coffee.

Her first month at Gabriel had been interesting, to say the least. Though she and Adrien didn't get to work in the same room too often, they still got to see each other almost daily. Whether from bumping into each other whenever Marinette accidentally dropped something on the floor or taking an outing to a fabric shop, they spent whatever free time at work they could together. Sometimes, if it was a slow day, they would just sit in the employee lounge talking, laughing and making everything feel right. Their friendship has been saved by the job, coincidentally. Now they got to enjoy each other's company whether they wanted to or not.

(And Marinette did. Marinette wanted to spend time with him so bad.)

A sigh fell from her lips.

The job was exhausting on its own, somedays. From the constant running around in search of supplies or up and down the elevators to fix a model's frayed clothing, Marinette often found herself needing to take a couple minutes during the day just to catch her breath.

At least her workplace was nice at its core. Her pay had substantially increased from when she was working retail. She no longer felt guilty in treating herself to a nice dinner or new sewing supplies every now and then, and she even had the ability to bring gifts home for her parents every once in a while. She loved that she could surprise them with something nice when she returned to the bakery at the end of the day, weary but ultimately very happy.

Marinette sighed as a beam of sunshine washed over her. She relished in the few moments of quiet she could attain just from a simple outing to a coffee shop. Soon she'd be on her way back to work, where the hustle and bustle of the spring season would crowd her every thought and movement until she clocked out at five and was welcomed home by her forever-loving bed.

"Marionette?" a voice called, causing Marinette to open her eyes (which she hadn't even realized were closed.) "Is there a Marionette here?"

Oh, please. Rolling her eyes, Marinette stood from the table and slung her purse over her shoulder as she walked to the counter, taking the to-go carrier for the coffee with a grin and a polite, "Thank you." She didn't bother correcting the barista, as there wasn't really any point to it—the place was packed and she was probably just as overwhelmed as Marinette was herself.

The walk back to Gabriel was short. As a gentle breeze blew through the air, Marinette hummed a light tune while trying to distract herself from the impending anxiety that would no doubt assault her physically by the end of the night due to her move in a few days. Right now she had to focus on work. Work, work, work, work.

(And she did not, by all means, need to focus on the fact that she and Chat Noir would be sharing the same living space within three days. The idea that all of her personal belongings besides her bed and a few pairs of clothing had been stashed away in boxes wasn't what she needed to think about at the moment. Really, knowing that she'd be sleeping in the same house as her long-time partner and friend wasn't what should be on her mind!)

There was an instant chill as Marinette walked through the imposing glass doors at the front of the massive building that was her workplace. Gabriel always had a cold air to it no matter what the weather was like outside. Suppressing a shiver, Marinette stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button for the eleventh floor, tapping her foot as she waited to reach her destination.

She wondered if Adrien was still up there, looking so prim and proper and handsome. He probably was. The thought made her heart skip a beat.

The coffee carrier was warm in her hands. Her fingers felt slightly numb from the temperature.

In all honesty, Marinette really had tried to get over her near decade-old crush, but it'd been to no avail. She'd long since come to terms with the fact that she still held feelings for him. And even if she wanted to hide them from herself, it would be damn near impossible when she saw him on an almost daily basis. They often went out on their lunch breaks together—most of the time with other co-workers, but sometimes alone—and said hi whenever they passed each other in the halls. There was no way Marinette would have ever been able to deny her feelings with that type of proximity.

She had to remind herself that they were friends again. Good friends. And just that fact alone made her feel at peace with herself.

As she re-entered the room Adrien had been in for his shoot, she was blinded by a brief flash of white light, nearly dropping the lattes in the process. Marinette blinked fiercely for a few seconds to rid the spots in her vision. The shoot must still have been going on from the looks of it; bright yellow lights glaring on the scene and cameras flashing in front of three models—one being Adrien—as they posed in front of a backdrop of a field of flowers. Adrien sat in a chair while two girls (whose names Marinette could barely remember) posed at his sides.

They all looked so ethereal. They really did. The girls were gorgeous and Adrien—

Well, Adrien was like… Like everything that was great in the world. Like sunshine and spring and goodness.

"Marinette's back!" one of the models cheered. It was one of the two girls that were posing with Adrien—her name was Chelle, Marinette recalled with a sudden burst of memory. As she approached Marinette she held up the bottom of her orange dress and pushed her long brown hair over her shoulders, thanking her extensively for the coffee. "You have no idea how badly I need this right now. I feel like I'm about to drop dead."

Marinette laughed. "That would be unfortunate." Her eyes widened as Chelle dipped her head back and drank half of the latte like it was a shot of alcohol.

The second model came to her side, a taller girl with dark, curly hair donned in an orange dress much like Chelle's. Marinette hadn't met her yet. She must have been new.

"Thanks," the girl said. She took a sip of her coffee and let out a long, heavy yawn. "Oh, it's too early."

"It's ten in the morning, Amelie." Adrien stepped out from behind the cameras with a grin almost as bright as the suffocating lights they were under. Marinette had to take a step back to simply admire him. He was dressed up in a gorgeous spring suit; a blue flannel underneath a light beige blazer with blue jeans and matching belt. His hair was purposefully mused and his eyes—

His eyes shone like summer itself. Marinette reluctantly repressed the sigh she so badly wanted to emit.

Adrien gave her a smile that showed his dimples as he gently took the last latte from her hands. "Thanks, Marinette. I—we really appreciate it."

Amelie nodded. Her ringlets bounced with the movement of her head. "We do. I stayed up way too late last night to be awake right now."

Tossing the to-go carrier in the trash, Marinette chuckled after she took a sip of her frappuccino. "I've been up since six-thirty."

Adrien shot her a smirk. "Overachiever."

Marinette gave a good-humored roll of her eyes.

The models finished their coffee and resumed their shoot while Marinette stood the side and observed. It was one of her favorite parts of her job and a definite perk; she got to see fashion spreads come to life as the models posed and were photographed. The fact that Adrien was in most of the shoots made it even more fun.

(Not because she was attracted to him, of course, although that was a bonus; the real reason was that he'd occasionally make a funny face in her direction, or mouth something that only she could understand. It was difficult at times to explain to the photographers why she had suddenly burst into a fit of giggles.)

Adrien was too cute for his own good sometimes. Funny, too. His sense of humor was terrible in an endearing way.

Thoughts drifting, Marinette let herself wonder for just a moment how Adrien's life was going outside of work. They did talk every now and then of course, but he never mentioned much about when he was moving in with that girl he liked or even if it was still happening. Would it be a thing soon? Or did they already live together? She didn't know. And it wasn't really any of her business anyway.

What did their apartment look like, she pondered? Was it big? Pretty? It was probably pretty. But so was her and Chat Noir's place, too.

Excitement bubbled within her stomach as she thought about the apartment she and Chat Noir had picked out. Her fingers fiddled with the skirt of her dress.

They had toured it separately a month ago. She had gone first to check it out—and goodness, was it gorgeous inside, albeit a little small—and Chat Noir had gone after to sign the lease. It was a beautiful place with high floor-to-ceiling windows and a spacious living room where they could easily fit two love seats or a single couch, and although the bedrooms were quite tiny, they were quaint and exceptionally cozy. Marinette had chosen the one with the most space and the best lighting (which Chat Noir thankfully had no problem with) and the thought filled her to brim with untapped enthusiasm. She needed room for her designing, after all. At least Chat had reassured her that he didn't mind.

Though it only had one bathroom and didn't have a large terrace like she was used to, it did have an extended balcony that stretched across both bedrooms with enough space for some plants and a couple chairs. There was plenty of room for her flowers outside and even in the interior since enough light reached the living room and her bedroom that they could grow with ease.

It was a wonderful little apartment. Full of sunshine and warmth a feel of home.

As for how they would split the bills, they'd decided that Marinette would give Chat her half of the rent each month in cash and the rest (like groceries and utilities) they would figure out once they were settled.

It was a learning process. They both were still kind of clueless, but Marinette had her parents (or even Alya) to help with any rut she might find herself in.

Her parents had been so understanding when she'd told them she was moving out with Adrien instead of a stranger. They were happy, too; glad their daughter had a friend to live with instead of someone they'd never met before. Her mother adored Adrien and trusted him almost as much as she did Alya. Though they were a bit skeptical that she and Adrien weren't dating (as the lie had only been necessary for Adrien's father) they understood that the two were moving in together as friends until any future developments, if there were to be any.

And although she felt horrible for lying to her parents about who her roommate was, it was unfortunately very necessary.

"You still with us, Mari?" Adrien teased from his seat.

Startled by the sudden sound of his voice, Marinette regarded him with a playful glare as she gave a show of sticking out her tongue.

Eventually, she was called out of the room the shoot was in and had to rush down to the sixth floor of the building where a deep tear in an evening gown critically needed fixing. After that she was sent all over the building for the next few hours, sewing and critiquing and offering her assistance until her legs felt like jello from trekking across the entirety of the Gabriel headquarters. Once she'd retrieved some designs from Gabriel's office itself to send to the design team (since they desperately needed more), she collapsed into a cushioned chair in the employee lounge with a long, fatigued sigh.

Whew. She couldn't wait to move in with Chat Noir. Her job was so exhausting sometimes that coming home to one of his massages would feel like heaven.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Adrien - 2:03 P.M.
Want to meet for lunch? I'm taking my break in 5 minutes

Marinette couldn't help the smile that split her cheeks. Her face warmed at the thought of spending her lunch break with Adrien. Where would they go today, she wondered? Maybe to a little deli around the corner for some sandwiches, or perhaps somewhere a tad nicer for a more dignified meal. It was such a nice day that she hoped wherever they went they would be sitting outside on the terrace so she could feel the breeze on her skin and see the sun sparkle in Adrien's eyes.

Minutes passed as Marinette sat lifelessly in the lounge chair before she realized it would be best to present Adrien with a response.

Messaging - Adrien - 2:07 P.M.
Sure I'd love to!

There was a brief feeling of regret as she pressed the send button. Was that too excited of a reply? Did she seem too eager to spend time with him?

God, Marinette, you probably freaked him out, her mind hissed.

Ah, no matter. She waved the thought away with a nervous shake of her head.

Things would be fine.

Probably.

The two of them ended up meeting at their go-to café right around the corner. Their conversation was simple for the most part, added with the occasional joke or friendly comment, and only interrupted twice when the waiter asked for their orders and brought them their food. They'd both ordered chicken caesar salads and were given a pitcher of water to share.

The atmosphere of the café was nice. There was soft music playing on the overhead speakers and the sun outside was pleasantly warm. A light breeze danced through the air, but it wasn't strong enough to cause any disruption. Marinette smiled as she stirred her straw around in her glass.

Adrien looked so handsome dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans with his hair all mused. He seemed a little tired, but it was kind of working for him.

She felt her cheeks flush as she looked away.

"I love weather like this," she said after a moment. Her gaze moved up from the table to meet Adrien's green, green eyes. "Don't you?"

Adrien nodded as he swallowed a bite of his food. "Oh, yeah. Not too hot and not too cold. That's why spring is my favorite season."

"It's also the busiest season for you, I'm sure," Marinette countered with a grin.

"True," Adrien said. He leaned back in his chair. "But it's nice. I get to meet new people and have new experiences, even if it is exhausting sometimes."

A small gust of wind swayed through the café terrace, caressing the red awning that jutted out from the wall and causing leaves to scatter across the pavement. Marinette's face scrunched up as a couple strands of her hair flew into her mouth and she narrowed her eyes as Adrien let out a laugh full of mirth.

"You try having long hair in windy weather," she said. "This is why I never wear it down."

Removing the hair-tie she usually kept on her wrist, Marinette pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, much like how she kept it when she transformed into her alter-ego. It was easier to manage that way and kept it from obstructing her vision.

She didn't catch the way Adrien squinted his eyes at her for just a brief second, or how he cocked his head to the side as if he was feeling some sort of odd recognition…

The waiter came to take their plates once they'd finished their food. Marinette watched as Adrien refilled their water glasses.

"Thanks," she said, taking a sip. She swirled the water around in her cup before asking, "so, has your dad been bugging you about the whole relationship thing at all?"

For some reason, she couldn't meet his eyes once the question fell from her lips.

Adrien shook his head. "Not really. I mean, every now and then he'll ask about you and wonder what you're up to and when we're going to have dinner again, but for the most part he's been pretty quiet. Except for the last few days, that is."

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Reaching back to fiddle with the hairs at his nape, Adrien shrugged. "Yeah. I'm moving out really soon so he's been a little 'concerned' I guess. He just wants to make sure I'm doing the right thing."

Ahh, so he was still moving in with that girl.

"And I know I am," he continued, pausing for only a second to take a drink, "because it feels right, you know? Like, I have this feeling in my gut that this thing is what I'm meant to be doing. It's another step in my life I'm taking so I can move up to where I want to be. And I'm happy I'm doing it."

Wow, he… He put that in words better than Marinette could have herself.

"I feel the same," she said. "My parents are kind of worried about me leaving the house, but… I know I'm doing the right thing. It's time for me to get on with my life and get somewhere."

"And you have been," Adrien told her. A proud gleam shone in his eyes. "You've got yourself a job you deserve now and I know that in no time you'll be moving up the ladder and become one of my dad's lead designers. You've got a lot of talent and so much potential, Marinette. I can't wait to see what you're going to be doing in five, ten years."

Were there tears in her eyes? Marinette felt like there were tears in her eyes. There probably wasn't, but she honestly felt like she could cry from the stuff Adrien was saying. To hear that coming from him, well… She wanted to just leap across the table and shower him with kisses.

Deciding that probably wasn't the best option, Marinette opted to reply with words instead of physical affection. "Thanks, Adrien. That… That means a lot to me."

Adrien's smile was blinding. "It's just the truth, Marinette."

"S-stoooop," she laughed, covering her face as it flushed all the way to her neck and ears. "Quit it, Adrien, you're gonna make me cry."

"I'm sorry," Adrien chuckled. He reached across the table and Marinette nearly squealed at how soft his hands felt as they enveloped her own, pulling them away from her face in such a gentle motion that it felt so- so surreal, like… Like she was dreaming.

"Are you?" Marinette teased.

Adrien grinned. "No, not really. I've gotta show support for my friends, right? I mean, besides Nino, Alya and Chloé, you're one of the only friends from collége and lycée that I've actually kept up with. Er, sort of."

"Sort of" being that five-month period where they hadn't spoken a word to each other.

Speaking of Nino and Alya, that reminded her…

"Since you mentioned Nino," Marinette said, a flicker of anticipation rising up within her chest, "I assume he told you the news?"

The way Adrien's face brightened and how he sat up completely straight told Marinette exactly what she was hoping for. She smiled knowingly.

"What news?" Adrien laughed, placing his hands on the table. "The fact that they're moving back to Paris in a few months, or the other minor detail that they're going to have a baby?"

"It's so crazy!" Marinette exclaimed. "I can't believe Alya's already two months. And that they're coming back to Paris after their baby is born is so- so exciting! I can't wait to see them again. I really can't."

"I kind of wish they were back already," Adrien said. He finished off the last of his water and frowned at the empty pitcher. "But I guess we could always fly up to see them."

"Oh, no doubt," Marinette said. "I've actually been thinking of doing that now that I can afford it. I've never been to America. It should be fun!"

"We should plan a trip, then," Adrien offered. "We could fly up together when we get some time off. Probably after the season is over."

Marinette felt something combust inside of her. "Th-that would be perfect."

The brimming enthusiasm that overtook her every other thought made Marinette fidget in her seat. It was amazing way. So amazing in fact that all she wanted to do was just stand up and scream to the world that her best friend was going to be a mother, to have a baby, and… And it was wonderful! And she and Adrien were going to visit soon!

Alya was going to have a baby and it was wonderful. It really, really was.

Except... It made Marinette kind of sad, in a way. She couldn't be there for Alya while she was going through whatever pains pregnancy brought her. Of course, Nino would be, but… It was different. She was her best friend. She wanted to be there.

(And part of her, just a tiny, itty-bitty little part deep inside of her was feeling the slightest bit of envy that Alya had managed to find someone who loved her so dearly enough to want to marry her, to give her a beautiful engagement ring and have a child with her. And Marinette felt a pit of sorrow in her chest because she was still single at twenty-one without ever having a real successful relationship.

But this wasn't about her. It was about Alya and Nino. And that was what was most important.)

After lunch—which Adrien had paid for no matter how much Marinette insisted he didn't have to—the two of them walked back to work with a peaceful air between them. They bid their goodbyes as they clocked back in, Marinette watching Adrien as he went up to his father's office while she herself stayed downstairs to find the bathroom.

As she stared at her reflection in the long mirrors of one of many of Gabriel's pristine bathrooms, she sighed. The dejected feeling that crawled up her body had certainly been unexpected. As well as the fact that she had found herself—just for a short moment in time—imagining what it would be like for her and Adrien to have a relationship like Nino and Alya did.

"Pull it together," she told herself, tapping her cheeks with a splash of water. "You can't keep getting distracted by pretty boys like Adrien and—"

She caught herself as the name of another boy she knew almost slipped from her tongue.

"—someone else," she finished. Marinette wiped her hands on a paper towel. Well. That was enough thinking for one day.

Once she'd collected her nerves, Marinette left the bathroom with a focus stronger than before and went through the rest of her workday determined to butt out any distractions that came her way.

She was strong. And she had good things to look forward to. Many, many good things.

"On your left!"

Adrien vaulted himself out of the way with his baton as Ladybug zipped past him, red-and-black spotted Lucky Charm in her hand. His transformation was three minutes from falling and the night's akuma—Switchblade, as he liked to call himself—stood fifteen meters above them atop the roof of a two-story ice cream shop. The place had been quaint before the akuma attacked, and it appeared to be family-owned, which was unfortunate because Switchblade had just sliced the building completely in half.

Adrien watched as one side of it crumbled to the street. The red-and-white striped awning bent and tore.

Ah, well. At least it was late and past closing hours.

"What kind of villain just carries around a gigantic blade?" he asked the bronze-coated man, running in step at his Lady's side. He leaned down and cupped his hands together so she could use his palms for leverage to leap into the air. "That's not very knife of you!"

His pun went ignored. What a shame; it was a really good one.

(Haha, "knife of you.")

"Chat Noir, focus!" Ladybug shouted down at him. Once she landed in front of the akuma, she used her Lucky Charm (a stepstool) to trip Switchblade as he lunged to grab her. Ladybug darted out of the way with her yo-yo just as the villain fell to the ground and made quick work to swipe the infected business card from his metal pocket before ripping it in half.

Adrien's eyes widened as the blade Switchblade had been holding came for him. He took two steps to the right, watching with a confident smile as the weapon stuck itself in the sidewalk with a springing sound. Jeez, how lame. The akuma were getting easier and easier to defeat these days. That, or he and Ladybug were just getting even better at their job than they already were.

As Ladybug purified the tell-tale butterfly that flitted out from the shredded remains of the business card, Adrien joined her at the front of the collapsed ice cream parlor and yawned. Man, it was late. Papillon had no business causing an akuma at eleven-thirty at night. What was Switchblade's deal, anyway? Who gets mad that their expensive, custom-made knives weren't selling well at nearly midnight? Shouldn't that have been a problem for like, tomorrow…?

The area was restored as Ladybug heaved the step stool into the air. There wasn't much of a celebration, though, and her obligatory shout of "Miraculous Ladybug" was surprisingly monotone.

After they comforted the akumatized victim and sent him on his way, Adrien patted a hand against Ladybug's back and smiled at her weary expression.

"Rough night?" he asked, chuckling as Ladybug let out a loud, drawn-out groan. "Oof, yeah. Looks like it."

"It's been a long, long day," she said, dragging her gloved hands down her face. "I had just clocked out from a nine- hour shift and was so ready to take a shower and go to bed after packing up the rest of my things and then all of a sudden Papillon decides to be a huge dickhead and screw up my sleeping schedule."

Their Miraculouses beeped in unison. They regarded each other a reluctant frown.

Pointing to his ring, Adrien asked, "Meet up at the Tower in fifteen minutes?"

Ladybug's affirming nod was all he needed. "See you then, chaton."

Adrien used the last minute he had to his transformation to leap over several rooftops until he found himself in an alleyway between a liquor store and a small Italian restaurant. As the flash of green enveloped him, Plagg fizzled out from his ring and plopped into his hands with a high-pitched mewl. His whiskers twitched as he squirmed and complained.

"I'm so hungry," Plagg whined, kicking his feet. "I can't believe I was woken up from a nap for this."

Adrien cupped one hand over the other as a person walked by them on the sidewalk. Poking his head out from the alleyway, he glared down at Plagg once the coast was clear. "Shush," he whispered. "We're in public. We're right next to a restaurant so I'll get you some cheese if you stay quiet."

"It better be good cheese," Plagg hissed.

Rolling his eyes at his kwami's antics, Adrien slipped out from the alleyway and stuffed his hands (and Plagg) in his pockets, ignoring the way the tiny god nibbled at his fingers in resistance. He entered the restaurant with a smile on his face and was thankful it was small so that no paparazzi would follow his tail.

A heavyset woman with thick blonde hair greeted him and told him he could sit wherever he wanted and that she would be with him in a moment, so Adrien gladly took a seat and looked around. It was a nice place with warm lighting, paintings of Venice on the wall and an array of red chairs and booths. The floor was gray tile, and above him, Adrien noticed that each shade covering the lights over tables had a different yet equally as intricate design.

He never had chances to eat out at hole-in-the-wall places like this. If he didn't have plans to meet Ladybug, he might've stopped for dinner.

As he gazed over the menu for a simple cheese appetizer he could give to Plagg, a thought struck him. He sat up with a contemplative grin. If Ladybug had just clocked out from a nine-hour shift, she must be pretty hungry, right?

"Hey Plagg," Adrien whispered towards his pocket, thankful that the place was pretty much dead due to the late hour. He lifted the menu up just in case. "What kind of food do you think Ladybug would like?"

Plagg poked his head out from Adrien's jeans. "You can never go wrong with cheese."

"Does she even like cheese?"

"Who doesn't?"

Adrien frowned. "But she could be lactose intolerant and I would never know."

"Adrien." Plagg gave him a flat look. "Look around. This is an Italian restaurant. A lot of their food has cheese. Just get her something."

With a sigh, Adrien turned away from his kwami to scrutinize the menu. He wanted to get something good; to let her go to bed with a tasty dinner in her stomach and a smile on her face.

He hadn't expected choosing a meal for her to be so hard, though.

"Well, whatever you choose, hurry up," Plagg mumbled from his pocket. "I'm hungry."

Despite his selfishness, Plagg had a point. Adrien had promised he'd be at the Eiffel Tower in fifteen minutes and he still had to wait for whatever food he ordered to be made. Granted, the Tower was only a good five minutes away with his transformation, but he didn't want to keep his Lady waiting. She was the impatient type.

As the waitress asked for his order, he decided on a simple chicken parmesan for them both with a side of garlic knots (and some cheese bread for Plagg.) Ordering it to go, he waited only ten minutes before it was ready and made a quick stop to the liquor store on the way out to pick up some champagne for he and his Lady to share. They needed to celebrate, didn't they? They were taking a big step in their lives together. That warranted a little drinking.

"Here," Adrien said to Plagg as he offered him the cheese bread once they were back in the alleyway. "Eat up. The Lady's waiting."

Plagg gobbled up the appetizer, voice muffled from his mouthful as he said, "Whatever, loverboy."

Adrien was only six minutes late by the time he arrived at their usual meeting spot. At the sight of Ladybug resting against a metal beam with her eyes shut and chest slowly rising and falling, he smiled warmly. Such a tired little 'Bug. He almost didn't want to wake her. But then her food would go to waste, and that would be no good.

Sitting down next to her, Adrien gave her shoulder a gentle nudge with his own. "Buginette," he cooed, giving her a second bump when she didn't stir. "Ladybug. Wakey-wakey."

Ladybug mumbled something under her breath as she scrunched up her face. "What?"

"I brought food. You hungry?"

Blinking open her eyes, Ladybug looked down at the brown paper bag he held in his hand, her stomach responding accordingly. "What? No way!"

Adrien nodded. "Mhm. Want to find somewhere more comfortable to eat? I happen to know of a restaurant terrace that's empty after hours." It was only a few minutes away. He'd stopped there himself a few times to relax after a long day of stress. The atmosphere would be good for them—Ladybug especially.

The place was adorned with string lights that never turned off, and roses as red as wine planted along the terrace railing and seating area. It was behind a taller building so they could happily have their privacy. And, to make things even better, it had a beautiful view of the city skyline. Adrien had never eaten there during its open hours, but he figured it wouldn't do any harm for him and Ladybug to stop by after closing, especially if they weren't going inside. Nobody would even know.

"Come on," he said. "I'd offer to carry you, but my hands are a little full."

Ladybug laughed, but the exhaustion was clear in her voice. "I don't think I'd let you carry me, chaton. I am very capable on my own."

"Aw, even when you're tired?" Adrien's lower lip jutted out in a faux-pout.

"Especially when I'm tired," Ladybug said with a smirk as she stood. "If I fell asleep in your arms, I'd probably be trapped forever. Your hugs are like death-grips."

Adrien produced his baton from his back, extending it to his full height. "Nonsense. My hugs are just extra loving."

Ladybug twirled her yo-yo in her hand and shook her head, her lips curling upwards into a wide grin. She looked around, and Adrien was mesmerized by the way her ponytail swished with each movement of her head. "So," she said, one hand on her hip, "where is this terrace you're taking me to? Better not be too far. I can smell that food from here and it's making me hungry. What did you get?"

"You'll see," Adrien responded. With a tilt of his head to the left, he signaled for her to follow him.

It only took them a few minutes to reach their destination, and as they landed, Adrien had to place a hand on his Lady's waist to keep her from stumbling. Gosh, the poor thing was so exhausted these days. It was like she didn't get much sleep anymore.

"You okay?" he asked.

Ladybug gave a wave of her hand to dismiss it. "Fine," she said. She opened her mouth to say something else but closed it again as she began surveying the area. The blue of her eyes reflected the lights into Adrien's own, and as he pulled out a chair for her to sit at, she was captivated by the sight of the city sparkling over the horizon. "Wow," she breathed. "You know, I've lived in Paris my entire life and you'd think looking at it would eventually get boring. But it doesn't. I still find myself amazed every now and then."

Adrien could understand how she felt. While living in the city was something he was used to, looking at it was something different entirely. Especially when it was just he and Ladybug like this.

His own stomach rumbled as a reminder that he hadn't eaten since two that afternoon. He'd been so busy at work that he hadn't even noticed he'd forgotten dinner. Part of him was thankful he had, or else he might not have been able to share a meal with his favorite person.

(And said "favorite person" was looking so beautiful, as she always did.)

"Alrighty," Adrien said as he took a seat across from her, scooting in the metal chair. "On the menu tonight for one gorgeous Ladybug and her stunning partner, we have two small side salads, a chicken parmesan to share, and an order of garlic knots with some champagne to celebrate. How's that sound?"

Ladybug placed her chin in her palm as she watched him unwrap all their food. "God," she said, voice quiet from weariness. "Marry me."

What.

Eyes darting up to meet his partner's, Adrien felt his heart beating in his throat. He was sure his mouth was hanging open but he felt too numb to confirm whether or not it was. Lady—Ladybug was tired. It was probably just a joke! No, no, it was definitely a joke. There would be no way that Ladybug would actually ask him to marry her—

Ladybug reached across the table to place a hand on his chin, her eyes glowing with something Adrien couldn't decipher. He could feel the heat of her hand through her suit and it was driving him insane. As she smiled at him, his heart melted into a puddle deep within his chest. His stomach felt like it was vibrating, a-and when her thumb stroked his jaw, his whole body tingled.

"Chat," she said, voice like honey.

Adrien swallowed audibly. "Y-yes, Ladybug?"

She pushed his chin up so his mouth would close. "Your mouth was hanging open. You'll catch flies like that."

Adrien's expression crumpled. Of course.

Shrugging it off with a smile—because he was happy to be in his Lady's company nonetheless—he delivered Ladybug her food and placed the side of knots between them, setting his own meal in front of himself. Just as he was about to open the champagne, he frowned, realizing that they had no flutes to drink from. He snorted at the thought of them both just passing the bottle back and forth to take swigs like some drunk teenagers at a lycee party.

"You think the owners of this place would get mad if I snuck in to grab us some glasses?" he asked, pointing backward at the glass doors with his thumb. "Unless you fancy drinking straight from the bottle."

"So long as you wash them, I think it'll be fine," Ladybug chuckled. She poked at her food with her fork. Adrien was thankful that plastic utensils had been placed in the bag for them. "Hurry back though."

"I'll be back in a twitch of a whisker," he said, throwing a smirk back at her as he stood from his chair. He didn't ignore the way Ladybug playfully rolled her eyes at his choice of words.

Slipping inside, Adrien wandered around the tables, thinking it looked quite odd to see all the chairs stacked on top of them in the dark. He made his way to the kitchen, where he glanced around for any sort of cups or glasses. His night vision was a wonderful aid in searching in the dark as it was pitch-black where there were no windows. Fumbling around, he pulled two champagne flutes from their holders and whistled as he walked back out into the light of the terrace.

"I hope I don't get charged for breaking and entering," he said with a laugh.

Ladybug snorted. "I think you'll be fine."

They shared their dinner with a relaxed air about them. The night was quiet as Adrien poured his Lady a glass of champagne, and he grinned as he held up his flute to signal a toast. "To us," he said. "For taking the next step in our lives."

Ladybug gave a soft laugh in response. She clinked her glass against his own. "To us. Bien joue, kitty."

"Bien joue." Adrien took a sip of his drink. It bubbled pleasantly against his mouth. "Three days."

Ladybug's face was full of light. "Three days."

As he watched his partner's ever-so pink lips brush the edge of the cup, Adrien's heart fluttered in his chest. What he'd give to be able to kiss her when she was like this: bathed in moonlight with a sleepy sheen to her eyes, which sparkled underneath the faint yellow glow of the string lights that were hung so delicately above them. He smiled when Ladybug took a sip of the drink and his heart swelled when she—his beautiful, beautiful Lady—rubbed at her heavy eyes with a sigh so sweet that Adrien wanted to capture it with his lips.

He could feel himself falling into a pit. Falling, falling, falling without ever a hope of clawing his way back up. But he wasn't afraid of that. If he fell into the amazing pool that was Ladybug, there'd be no reason to come out. If Ladybug was his fate, then, well… So be it. It would be the gentlest demise he could imagine and he would welcome it—welcome her—with open arms.

"Chat?"

Adrien blinked in surprise as he came out of his stupor. Ladybug was looking at him with a sly grin on her face. He smirked in response. "What?"

"What'cha thinkin' about?" she asked, and the way she placed her head in her palms with such an endearing expression made Adrien shiver.

He could do nothing but offer a shrug in response. His gaze fell to his food. "Definitely not a pretty girl."

"Sure," Ladybug chuckled. She gave his boot a gentle nudge underneath the table. "Let's go with that."

A silence fell over them. It was as calm as it was short, and as their food was finished and most of the bottle of champagne drained, Adrien was finding himself feeling freer and looser, allowing his body to relax into the back of the chair with his stomach full and mind at ease. Across from him, Ladybug was slumping in her seat. Her fringe hung in front of her eyes—which were closed—and her cheek rested against her knuckles, arm propped atop the back of the chair and legs spread in an exhausted (if unladylike) position.

Adrien didn't mind, though. He'd seen Ladybug at her worst and this was far from it.

Welp. By the looks of it, it was time to go home.

There would be more nights to spend with her in the future. In three days, to be exact. Within a mere seventy-two hours, he and Ladybug would be piling boxes of their belongings into their apartment, in their own rooms, where they'd live their lives for the next one, two, five or seven years or even more depending on where life took them.

Heck. Maybe they'd stay there together eternally.

Which… Was a ridiculous thought, really. Because, well, Ladybug had a life and so did he, and if they happened to come across a career opportunity and had to move or fell in love with someone else (although Adrien doubted he would ever fall for someone other than his Lady) there would be hitches in that idea. Big hitches. Like, instead of hitches, there'd be gashes because the idea was so stupid and so absurd that there was no way either of them would end up staying in that tiny apartment forever, right?

(And, even if his dream did come true where he and Ladybug married and had a family and knew each other beneath the masks, they would move to a bigger home eventually, where they would have enough rooms for at least two children and plenty of land for their kids to play in, and perhaps some space for a few cats. But that all would depend on what his Lady wanted.)

Feeling his eyes begin to droop, Adrien caught himself before his head smacked against the table.

Ladybug's laughter came from across him. "I almost just witnessed a casualty."

Through a yawn, Adrien said, "If I died here, you'd be the one cleaning up the mess."

"Psshh." She gave a nonchalant wave of her hand. "I could just Lucky Charm you back to the living. I'm sure I could bend the rules to somehow bring a fellow Miraculous user back from the dead. Tikki could make that work with some type of weird magic shit."

Adrien chuckled. "Wow, my Lady is so talented. Not only is she a famed superhero with awesome powers and devastating good looks, she's also a modern necromancer."

Crossing her legs with a confident grin, Ladybug nodded. "You know it, Chat Noir."

"What if I came back all gross, though? Like, as a rotting cat-zombie." Adrien rested his elbows on the table as he breathed out a laugh. "Like my tail and ears are fused to my head and I have no hair and my hands have fallen off."

"That's okay," Ladybug said. "I'll still live with you so long as you promise not to sneak into my room at night and gnaw on my leg or something. I need legs."

"Fair point."

Ladybug stretched her arms high above her head and sat up straight, piling the trash from their dinner into the brown paper bag the food had come in. Fixing her ponytail, she adjusted her position so she was more comfortable before sitting criss-cross on the seat. "Okay," she said matter-of-factly. "Time to get serious for a moment: I've got everything besides my mattress and like, two pairs of clothes packed. I wanted to let you know that I do have some outfits for us to wear and the masks are ready. So I can give those to you on Tuesday."

"Tuesday," Adrien sighed, his heart beating fast and face warming with excitement, "Tuesday is moving day. Wow. It all feels so fast, but like… A good fast, you know?"

Ladybug nodded. "I do."

They gazed at each other for a moment too long to be completely platonic. Adrien allowed himself to relish in that thought, just for a little bit.

"I'm happy we're doing this," he confessed. "I mean, really. I couldn't imagine myself comfortably living with anyone other than you. I mean, realistically, you're like… My best friend. And I'm really excited to live with you. And I know things are going to be hard and we're going to have some difficult times and may even get tired of seeing each other so much but like… I'm okay with that. I'm okay with us figuring our shit out together and being able to hang out without worrying about our Miraculous running out or an akuma kicking our ass or waiting on patrols just to see each other."

"We don't even patrol," Ladybug laughed. "That's our clever cover-up for chilling together."

"I know," Adrien chuckled, laying a hand on his Lady's, "but I'm serious. I'm really glad we're taking this step together and I'm… I'm happy to know you, okay? I'm glad I know you."

He felt slightly awkward spilling his guts like that, but it was the truth. He loved Ladybug and he loved that they were going to be sharing the same space and learning about each other more than they had ever imagined.

While it was true that Nino was his best friend, Ladybug was… Different. A good different.

"You're such a sap when you've been drinking," Ladybug chuckled. She squeezed his hand within her own and Adrien melted.

"I know," he said, fully admitting to it. "I can't help it though, Buginette. You make me feel stuff."

"'Stuff?'" she asked.

Adrien offered a simple shrug. His cheeks heated to an uncomfortable redness. "Stuff."

Patting his hand, Ladybug smiled, her face bright and eyes full of something so warm and soft that Adrien felt like he could just die. "You're a silly one, minou."

He grinned. But I'm your silly minou.

Oh, if only Ladybug knew what kind of "stuff" he really felt for her…

"I think it's time we both went to bed," Ladybug said. Adrien mourned the loss of contact when she pulled her hand away and stood up from her chair. "You've been such a sweetheart tonight, Chat. Thank you for dinner, I…" Her face grew pink as she smiled. "I appreciate it more than you know."

Adrien rested his head on his forearms. "I appreciate you more than you know."

Ladybug gave a playful roll of her eyes, but he didn't miss the way her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

"Goodnight, Chat Noir," she said with a final finger-brush to his nose, "I'll see you Tuesday morning, bright and early."

Breathing in deeply, Adrien brushed his fingers over her own before ever-so-gently grasping her hand and placing a loving kiss on her knuckles. The fabric of her suit felt smooth underneath his lips and cool against his skin. He smiled against her and practically swooned at how she reached up to comb her fingers through his hair in such a soft, wonderful motion before producing her yo-yo and giving him a wave.

"Tuesday, kitty."

Adrien winked. "Tuesday."

Chapter Text

Moving day was upon them before Marinette could blink.

She woke bright and early that Tuesday morning with a skip in her step and excitement brewing in her chest, her heart beating a tad faster than its normal pace and her head swimming with thought after thought. Already having all of her boxes packed, Marinette joined her parents for breakfast, thankful they kept the conversation short as she was eager to get started. It wasn't every day she moved out of her childhood home, after all. She was anxiously awaiting meeting her partner and settling their new place.

Once she'd finished her meal and helped her family clean, she snuck Tikki a couple cookies from their pantry into her pocket and returned upstairs to change out of her pajamas. She decided to slip on a red sweater and a pair of black leggings as an ode to her alter-ego, all the while trying not to let the nerves eat at her brain. Sure, Marinette was excited beyond belief to finally be moving out of her home, but she was also terrified.

She had been looking forward to this for weeks—no, months—and couldn't wait another minute until she and Chat Noir were finally situated in their apartment. There would be no more rushing around to find each other during akuma attacks, or being unable to talk to each other whenever they wanted. They wouldn't have to worry about whether or not the other was okay or wonder about what they were up to and, most importantly, they could spend time with each other outside of the super-suits, doing whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted to.

Things would be different now. A good different.

Marinette's hands began to tremble as she resealed one of the cardboard boxes that hadn't stuck shut. Picking up the black marker at her side, she labeled it as "stuffed animals" before moving along to the next one.

"I'm kind of nervous," she said to Tikki, stacking the plethora of boxes that sat scattered across her bedroom floor into neat, organized piles. "But I'm also super, super excited. Is that weird? To be nervous and excited at the same time? What would that emotion even be called?"

Tikki laughed at her holder's choice of words. "That's normal, Marinette. Every person is bound to feel a little weird when they're about to move to a new place."

"Is it wrong that I feel a little sad, too?" asked Marinette. She sighed as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail with a red ribbon wrapped around the band. "Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy to be moving in with one of my best friends, but..."

Tikki frowned. "But...?"

"But this is my childhood home," Marinette finished, gesturing around her sunshine-dappled room as she sat on her floor, writing the words "our clothes" onto the special box she planned to open with Chat Noir later. "I've lived here all my life. I'm feeling a little bad about leaving it."

"Oh, that's natural," Tikki replied, a comforting tone in her high-pitched voice. She flitted over to sit on Marinette's shoulder, smiling reassuringly as rays of light beamed through her bedroom windows and washed the wooden panels of her floor with a golden-brown hue. "Of course you're going to feel a little sad. Leaving the house you grew up in to move somewhere else will always come with a melancholy feeling, Marinette. So long as you're not having second thoughts, I think you'll be just fine."

Marinette cocked her head to the side as she considered Tikki's words. After a moment, she nodded, reaching up to scratch under her kwami's chin with a thankful grin. Tikki was right; it would be weird if she wasn't feeling a tad dejected over the thought of leaving her parents behind, even if she was only going to be living twelve minutes away.

It would be odd to wake up and not be met with the delicious aroma of bread baking in the morning, and Marinette knew she would come to miss the sound of her mother humming songs in her native language as she cooked dinner. But, even though the small things she had learned to adore about her home would be gone from her daily life, Marinette knew it was time to move on. Besides, the details that she loved about her house would always be with her, and the fact that her parents loved her dearly would remain in her heart forever—even if she wasn't residing in the same house as them anymore.

Anyway, it wasn't like she couldn't visit her family. Marinette knew she could always go back to her first home to receive one of her father's bear hugs that were bone-crushingly sweet, and she would always be welcome to help her mother do laundry or water the flowers that she kept on her terrace. Just because she was moving away didn't mean she was going away. She would always be there.

"Thanks, Tikki," Marinette said after a long moment. "You're the best."

Tikki's responding giggle reminded her of a happy wind-chime.

As she went downstairs for the second time that morning, Marinette found her mother rifling through the fridge, mumbling some string of words Marinette couldn't quite pick up. It looked like she was searching for something important; had she run out of an ingredient in the bakery and needed to borrow one from their personal fridge for a last-minute order?

"Whatcha looking for, maman?" Marinette asked. She leaned down behind her mother to peer into the fridge.

Sabine turned with a rosy grin on her cheeks, her voice soft as she said, "Oh, nothing. Just a little surprise your father and I whipped up for you and Adrien after you went to bed last night."

Confusion was evident on Marinette's face. She frowned quizzically at her mother's laughter. "Maman, no, you didn't have to make me anything!"

(Especially since she wasn't really moving in with Adrien!)

"I know," Sabine replied. She pulled out a white box from the back of the fridge, which was adorned by a gold trim with the bakery's logo decorating the sides. Her grin was proud as she placed it on the kitchen island. "But we wanted to give you and Adrien a little gift since you're moving into your place today. Go ahead," she said, giving Marinette an encouraging tap on the small of her back, "open it."

Pooching her lips in a sign that her parents really didn't have to be so nice and do this for them, oh my goodness, Marinette placed her pink-painted fingernails on the sides of the box before lifting the top—ever so gently—and gasping at the sight that sat before her, spotted with strawberries and smelling absolutely divine.

"Maman!" Marinette cried, her lips cracking into a wide, jubilated smile. "Oh, mom, you didn't have to- this is so- I can't believe you guys did this for us!"

It had to have been the prettiest strawberry shortcake she'd ever laid her eyes on. The bottom was a deliciously-golden looking sponge that was layered with strawberries and vanilla buttercream, following two small tiers of whole strawberries (the tips cut off, of course) with hard balls of white chocolate atop each tip of the berries. Holding an array of strawberries cut to look like roses was a thin, circular plate of white chocolate, and in the center lay a creamy strawberry frosting, just waiting to be devoured. Instinctively, Marinette licked her lips and her mouth watered.

Chat Noir was going to be over the moon when he saw this, she knew that for sure. She would probably have to hide it in the back of their fridge just to make sure her partner didn't eat the whole damn thing by himself!

(Thankfully, Marinette noted, her mother hadn't written a personal message on top of the cake. No "Good luck Marinette and Adrien!" or, "We love you Marinette!" lie on its surface, which she was secretly grateful for. It would have surely made sharing the cake with Chat Noir awkward and, much to her discomfort, pose some questions she didn't exactly feel like answering.)

"Mommm," Marinette sighed, squeezing her mother in the tightest hug she could manage without hurting her. "You guys outdid yourselves, really. This is awesome."

Sabine chuckled. "We only make the best for our little girl."

Placing a kiss to her mother's fringe, Marinette squeezed her once more before letting go, reaching over to the holder on the wall and grabbing the keys to her brand-new apartment. "Thanks so much. I'll drop by to pick it up later after we get everything moved in."

"Are you sure you don't need help?" Sabine asked, concern lacing her tone. "I know you're capable, honey, but I just want to make sure you two can lift all that heavy furniture on your own. You know your father and I are more than willing to take the day off and—"

"I know, maman." Marinette smiled at her mother. "But Ch- uh, Adrien and I can handle it. You know I'm stronger than I look. Remember how I lifted that hundred-kilo bag of flour the other day?"

Sabine chuckled. "I remember, dear."

Flexing (if only to show off just a little), Marinette patted her arm and grinned proudly. "We've got this."

And she knew they did. She and Chat Noir were more than prepared to move all of their items into the apartment on their own, especially since they had agreed they would do the move transformed, thankful that the suits granted an extra bout of strength they could use to their advantage.

So, after her mother had returned to help her father downstairs in the bakery, Marinette slipped on the handmade Ladybug mask she'd fashioned a week prior and grinned as she looked herself over in her bathroom mirror. She looked like herself, of course, but there was an added flair that made her feel as if she was wearing the suit instead of her regular clothes. By the outfit she'd chosen and the way she'd wore her hair, she was sure Chat Noir wouldn't recognize her as anyone other than Ladybug, not even for a second.

(At least, she hoped with every fiber in her being. That was the whole point of the disguises, anyway.)

Marinette breathed in slowly as she stepped into the stairway of her childhood home. Her fingertips brushed the tips of the doorknob that led to the city outside. Mentally counting to three, she placed a hand to her chest to steady the heavy beating of her heart and flashed Tikki a smile as the kwami hovered by the door.

"Ready to take the next step in our lives, Tikki?" she asked.

Tikki offered a warm smile in return. "Always, Marinette."

With a newfound confidence, Marinette pushed her hair back to reveal her earrings. "Transform me."

Adrien was the first to arrive.

Of course you're the first, he thought bitterly as he stood in the empty living room of the apartment all suited up and ready, you're too early. You weren't supposed to get here until eight.

The time on his baton read six-fifty A.M. Adrien shrugged to himself as he gave their place a good look-around.

Bright, early morning sunshine streamed in through the large windows of the room and splashed across the hardwood floor, washing the entrance of the apartment in a faint yellow glow. It traveled into the kitchen, where an oven and microwave were installed in the wall above a dishwasher next to the black counter-top, where the stove and sink were located. At least those came pre-installed. The same couldn't be said about a washer and a dryer, but Adrien was thankful there was a laundromat not even a five minute walk from their complex.

As he wandered down the hall and into the room that was to be his own, he smiled to himself. It was drastically smaller than what he was used to—though any room would be compared to his old one, really—but he liked it. It was comfortable; cozy, even. The floor was the same wood as the hall, and across from the white walls was a large, floor-to-ceiling mirror that reflected the rest of the room back to him, including the light from the window that bounced off its sheen. There was enough room in the corner for his desk, and as he glanced around, he envisioned where his bookshelf and bed would go, as well as his posters and trophy collection.

Man. It sure did feel nice to have a place of his own.

He checked out the bathroom after he'd briefly glanced into the room that was Ladybug's (which was full of light and warmth and all things her even if she hadn't moved anything into it yet.) The bathroom was small but quaint. With white tiled walls and a bath that doubled as a shower, Adrien ran his clawed fingers lightly down the glass doors, smiling at how smooth it felt underneath the texture of his gloves. The sink was across the shower, and directly next to the bathroom was the toilet in its own separate space, which made Adrien glad. He had never liked the idea of the toilet being in the same room as the shower.

Briefly pausing in the hallway to check the time, Adrien smiled sheepishly to himself as the clock just struck seven, reaching behind his head with his other hand to scratch at the back of his neck in a self-conscious manner. Okay, so he had showed up a little too early. His enthusiasm was the one to blame for that.

(A tiny part of him was saddened that Ladybug hadn't shown up early as well. This was their shared home, after all. He didn't care for the idea of starting the move-in without her.)

It was with a mixture of a sigh and a yawn that he stepped out onto the balcony, the sliding glass door located right next to the kitchen. A cool breeze greeted Adrien as he shut the door behind him, resting his forearms along the dark iron railing as he approached the edge. They were on the highest floor, and he liked it that way. The less people that could spy on them, the happier he and Ladybug were bound to be.

The sky was a wonderful blue as the sun finished its ascent. Puffy white clouds rolled across the open air, not a spot of gray to be seen in the ocean of the world above. Adrien smiled to himself. As he glanced around the balcony, he could envision Ladybug forming a makeshift garden out here with potted plants sitting all around—perhaps she'd even hang a few inside to give their place a more homey feel. He wouldn't mind in the slightest.

Back inside, Adrien opened his baton to check the time once again, his brow furrowing as the numbers reminded him that it was only 7:06. Embarrassed by his own eagerness, he shoved his baton back onto its holder on his belt and let out a long sigh in an attempt to calm his jitters. His nerves were catching up to him again, as they had kept him awake all night; he'd barely slept a wink due to the twitching of his fingers in anticipation as well as the frantic muddle of his thoughts.

The excitement was one thing. Often, thoughts of Ladybug and himself sharing the same space filled Adrien's head, fantasies of the two of them cooking dinner together or relaxing on the couch after a hard day cuddled up and watching a movie becoming commonplace in the middle of his work days. He usually found himself a puddle of happy, lovesick goo once lunch rolled around (much to his own chagrin) and as he attempted to get some rest in his bed at night, the hurried beating of his heart caused his mind to race with all the wonderful, sappy little romantic ideas that kept him reeling with sheer affection for his Lady.

Oh, he loved her. He loved her so much and she didn't even know.

But, as Adrien stood there in the middle of their living room (their living room!) bathed in early morning sunlight, he frowned. It was an odd thing—to frown at such a joyous time—but he did. His lips curled downwards into a small, concerned glower, his eyebrows scrunched together as he mulled over what exact emotion he was feeling at the moment.

He wasn't upset about anything, no. But he was worried.

While it was true there were a lot of positives to moving in with his partner and best friend, Adrien knew there would be some consequences that came along with their shared living space. Something was bound to go wrong. He couldn't help but dwell on the possibilities of what was to come, if seeing each other so often would cause them to fight more, or worse—taint their partnership.

He doubted anything of that nature would happen, as he seldom saw any two people who were as close as they happened to be. But still, the potential of anything going wrong—even something small—ate at his nerves and made his brain race with hundreds of feelings at once.

He was happy, of course. But that didn't mean he wasn't scared as well.

A trickle of anxiety gnawed faintly at Adrien's stomach as he rode the elevator down to the ground floor walked out into the open air of the complex. He ignored the confused gawking of passersby, instead opting to open up the back of the small moving van he'd had his bodyguard drive over thirty minutes earlier, feeling thankful that he had left him to his privacy. Though the civilians on the street were few due to the early hour, Adrien still felt a little awkward having people stare at him as he heaved four boxes into his arms and carried them inside the building.

Adrien sighed as he stepped back into the elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor. Oh, boy. He and Ladybug really needed a better plan, didn't they?

(Unfortunately, this was the only one they really had.)

So, they would get a few people looking at them weird. So what? They could make up an easily-believable lie—even if his Lady hated to tell fibs. Desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

Adrien began setting box after box in a neat stack in his bedroom, which sat empty for the time being. The quiet of the morning hour was peaceful, yet it felt a little odd to him to be loading boxes into an empty apartment in complete silence, so he decided to remove his baton from his back and turn on some energetic music to get himself awake and ready for the day. He left it on the kitchen counter before getting back to work, but as he opened the front door—

—he bumped into red-and-black polka-dots, his brain on autopilot as he quickly scooped up the boxes she had dropped before they collided with the floor.

"Well, good morning!" came the voice Adrien had grown to love so much, her tone bright and cheery and absolutely wonderful. "I didn't expect to see you here so early."

Heaving the heavy boxes into his arms (what the hell was inside of these?!), Adrien offered Ladybug a wide grin. "Yeah, well, I guess I was a little too excited to wait. I woke up at six this morning and wanted to get started right away."

If he hadn't been holding the boxes, he would've fallen into his old habit of scratching behind his neck.

"Understandable," Ladybug chuckled, taking one of the boxes from him to lighten his load. She led him past the kitchen and down the hall into her bedroom, where she set the box on the floor with a loud thud and a blinding smile. "I had a hard time sleeping last night, too. I kept thinking about how hopefully by the end of the night we'll be settled in and I got really happy."

"It's a good feeling." Adrien set the other two boxes on the floor. He placed his hands on his hips, grinning down at Ladybug as she pushed back the curtains in front of her window to gaze out at the city below. "Admiring the view?"

Ladybug shook her head. She gestured with her hand for him to come closer. "No. There's people down there staring at the moving trucks and pointing. They saw me when I was down there getting my things, so I don't doubt a crowd will start forming soon."

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Adrien saw for himself that six stories below, people were beginning to band together on the sidewalk. They pointed up at the complex, waving their arms and talking amongst themselves excitedly, most likely about the fact that they'd seen both Ladybug and Chat Noir moving things from trucks inside of the apartment complex. He slapped a hand to his forehead with a groan.

Ladybug turned to him, concern sparkling in her eyes. "How are we going to get out of this one, kitty?"

Tapping a clawed finger to his chin, Adrien pondered for a moment before he snapped his fingers, an idea striking his mind. "I've got it. It's a simple solution. Let's just go back down there and get some more things and you follow my lead, okay?"

Shaking her head with a smile, Ladybug followed without question.

The confused stares of those in the lobby as it became later in the morning made Adrien want to laugh. As he and Ladybug came out of the elevator and ventured out to the moving trucks, they were met by face after face, people shoving past one another to get close enough to see what was going on. He and Ladybug attempted to push past the people that were surrounding the trucks, but it was to no avail, as cameras and microphones were immediately shoved right into their personal space.

"Ladybug, Chat Noir!" a reporter called. "Can you tell us why it looks like you're moving into this very apartment complex?"

Ladybug shot him a concerned look, but Adrien regarded her with nothing more than a wink. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as he shrugged, telling the reporter, "Simple! We're helping an elderly couple move their things into their new home. You see, they're old and weakened, so they can't lift these heavy things on their own. Ladybug and I, however," he continued, pulling her flush against his side, "we're stronger than normal people, so we're simply moving their stuff in for them so they don't have to exert themselves. Right, Buginette?"

It took his partner a few seconds to come to terms with what he'd said, but after a moment she squeaked out, "O-of course!" Her voice rose an octave. "That is the total truth! Haha, very true. We, um- we're nice. Like that."

He found it hard to suppress his laughter at how terrible of a liar she was. It was quite the convincing tall-tale, if he did say so himself. But still, how Ladybug stuttered her way through that sentence only had him thinking about how damn adorable she was.

The reporters were appeased by his explanation and a couple of praises were thrown here and there, but for the most part they didn't go away. Even as he and Ladybug continued their move-in process, they stuck around, taking photo after photo and filming a plethora of videos that were all entirely unnecessary. It was a tad exhausting to have to lift his couch through a crowd of people with expensive (and very breakable) equipment, but they managed. By the time lunch rolled around, most of them had cleared out, but a few still remained. They were easily ignored, though, which Adrien was grateful for.

The moving process definitely wasn't a short one. From dawn to dusk they worked, heaving box after box, desk after couch after bed after table and chair and everything else within their trucks until they were vacant. Their living room was full of boxes by the time the two of them were finished; Adrien was sure it was going to take him until the next day or more to finish unpacking everything.

For a while he and Ladybug worked separately in their rooms unpacking their things. They put on some music to keep the sound flowing between their rooms, which were directly across from each other, so they could occasionally glance over and see what their partner was up to.

Adrien would throw a joke over his shoulder every now and then. He relished in the sound of Ladybug's laughter and how the sunlight danced off of her smile.

He was happy. Adrien was really, truly happy for the first time in a while. They were doing their own thing, setting up their respective items and making their beds in separate rooms, but things were good. Their doors were open, the other was there to keep them company, and life was right.

Things were going to be looking up from now on. He had no doubt about that.

Adrien heaved a heavy sigh as he flopped onto the couch—his old white one from his bedroom—and felt his bones practically melt into the soft fabric. Ugh, man. He'd never felt so exhausted in his life.

With aching arms, he lifted a hand to brush his bangs out of his face, which were messy and unkempt from how much work he and Ladybug had completed that day. Not only had they moved all of their boxes from both of their respective trucks, but also helped each other move all of their furniture, from beds to bookcases and dressers and desks and- and everything.

As Ladybug plopped down on the couch next to him, Adrien shot her a grin and blinked his eyes at her, which drooped wearily. She looked really cute sitting there with her arms on the back of the couch and head propped up on the cushion, her own eyes falling closed from the sheer amount of work she had done. Her eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she blinked. From sitting in front of the sun most of the day, the light had certainly brought out her freckles. They dusted her skin from the edge of her mask to the tip of her nose; Adrien had to resist the urge to reach out and kiss them.

"Hey," he said, voice soft from how drowsy he felt.

Ladybug smiled in return. "Hey."

Reaching to pat her on the shoulder, Adrien said, "I think we did a good job, huh?"

"You're telling me," Ladybug replied. She turned her head to him with a grin. "I don't think I've ever worked that hard before. Why did we decide to do this all in one day, again?"

Adrien shrugged. "To get it over and done with?"

Snorting a laugh, his partner shook her head as she shifted her attention to the flat-screen TV that sat on the stand in front of them, just behind the coffee table. She motioned towards it with her foot. "Should we set this thing up?"

Humming noncommittally, Adrien adjusted his position on the couch so he was more comfortable, his hands behind his head as he lowered himself deeper into the cushions. "Nah," he said with a brief wave of his hand. "We'll worry about that later. Actually, I'd love some food right about now. How about you, 'Bug?"

Ladybug's stomach growled in reply. She placed a hand to her abdomen with a laugh. "I think you just got your answer."

Grinning as an idea popped into his mind, Adrien offered, "Takeout?"

"You read my mind, kitty."

It was interesting to see his partner ordering Chinese food over her phone. From the way she spoke to how her perfectly pink (and kissable, if he was thinking of other suitable adjectives) lips curved upward into a smile when their order was placed, she was adorable; like a kitten that had received a new toy; like a beautiful girl who was given the key to the world. But, no, it was just Chinese food. And boy did they both love Chinese takeout.

Kicking his feet up on the coffee table as he waited for Ladybug to finish the call—he had ordered a sesame chicken platter and he couldn't wait for it to arrive—he grabbed the remote that sat next to him on the couch, automatically going to turn the TV on but smiling sheepishly at himself as he remembered that it hadn't even been hooked up yet. Ah, well. That was a problem for Future-Chat. Present-Chat just wanted to sit back, relax, and eat some damn good food.

"Food will be here in thirty to forty minutes," Ladybug said, fingers gliding through his hair as she walked behind him. Adrien grinned in response, attempting to reach up to playfully grab her wrist, but she pulled away before he could manage with nothing to offer but a giggle. "Stop."

"Where are you going?" Adrien asked as he watched his partner continue walking down the hallway, his vision upside down since he'd tilted his head off of the back of the couch.

(He didn't look at the way her ponytail swished with her every move, and he didn't imagine himself combing through the dark strands with his clawed hands. He didn't think about how the laugh that rose from her—that gorgeous, delicious laugh—sounded so divine as she disappeared into her bedroom. He absolutely did not even wonder about how nice it would be for her to come back and sit next to him and smother his lips with kisses. No, not at all…)

He didn't realize he had closed his eyes until they snapped open from the sound of something hitting the coffee table. Moving his feet, Adrien sat up straight and examined the box, cocking his head to the side as he read what was written across the cardboard in thick, black sharpie.

"Our clothes?" he asked. He met Ladybug's eyes with a confused blink.

She nodded in confirmation. "Mm-hm."

Using her keys, she cut through the tape and opened the box, proceeding to pull out a couple of specially-made garments. In her hands she held up a black T-shirt with a picture of a bell at the collar—one that looked exactly like the bell he wore with his suit. There were pockets on the front, too, which would be useful, and the fabric looked exceptionally soft. Adrien couldn't help but gasp as he reached out to grab it.

"You made this?" he breathed, gaze sparkling in amazement. "No way! No way. This is so cool! I mean, I know you said you've designed stuff before, but I didn't know you were like… This good." He turned the shirt around in his hands, laughing as he noticed that there was a design of his baton on the back of his shirt, just like where the real one would be. "Oh, wow. You've outdone yourself, my Lady."

"Oh, hush," Ladybug chuckled. She set a folded stack of black-and-green clothing in his lap. "It was nothing. This way we can wear casual clothes around the house and not have to worry about revealing ourselves to each other. It just makes things easier on both of us. See?"

She held up a red-and-black spotted halter top, and Adrien nearly blushed at how adorable he imagined it would look on her. He instinctively buried his head in his hands.

"You're gonna kill me," he said. "You're too nice to me, 'Bug."

Ladybug laughed. She placed her shirt back in the box. "I think I'm a reasonable amount of nice to you."

"Lies," Adrien countered playfully. He held up the shirt again to inspect it a second time. "Can I go put this on?"

At first, she nodded. Then she froze, her eyes widening a fraction before they met his, and a single, silent message was passed between them, floating through the air until it registered in their brains at the exact same moment.

"Do you-" they began in unison. They shared a laugh before trying again. "Should we- Sorry."

Their laughter was nervous that time.

"We're going to have to at some point," Ladybug said, avoiding his gaze as she closed the box back up. Her fingers fiddled with the end of her keys, which had a plastic Ladybug at the end of the chain. It made Adrien smile.

"We could right now," he replied. Pushing himself to a stand, Adrien enveloped her gloved hand in his own. Even through the fabric of her suit, it was so soft. He wondered what it would be like to be able to brush their bare fingers together, or to see her out of the suit with normal clothes and hair and skin all while she wore her signature mask.

His tail swished nervously at his ankles. He wanted that. He wanted that more than anything.

"...Might as well do it now," he finished, looking up from the way his thumb rubbed her knuckles to her blue, blue eyes. "No time better than the present, right?"

Ladybug laughed softly. "Right."

"Right…"

They both swallowed. Then took a breath. Then broke out into a fit of giggles.

Laughing with Ladybug felt so nice. It felt so right and so pure and so- so them. Here they were, beating around the bush of what they needed to do in front of each other, acting like two school kids who were too afraid to ask the other out on a date.

Traffic rolled down the street below outside, and as Adrien glanced out the windows (which had their curtains parted) he took note that the sun was beginning to set. They'd spent all day moving heavy furniture and boxes and unpacking what they could, only pausing once for himself to run out to a deli and get them some lunch. Their Tuesday had been full of grueling work. Adrien knew they both deserved to spend a night relaxed and comfortable, not stuck in tight, form-fitting supersuits.

A pink glow filled their living room—their living room—and wrapped the pair in warm, peaceful ribbons of setting sunlight. The sky outside was a mix of oranges and yellows and reds, and they both watched in silence as the lights of the Eiffel Tower flickered on, flashing the street in a splash of muted gold.

Ladybug's voice caused him to look up. Whatever she had said, Adrien wasn't sure; he was more captivated by the fact that the way the sun shone off of the windows and caused her eyes to sparkle like flakes of opal, and her scarlet suit practically beamed color across the room. Dark shadows were beginning to stretch along the wooden flooring. Paris was definitely beginning to settle down for the night—at least in their apartment, it was.

He was momentarily glad that they were so high up that it would be hard for anyone to see them from down below.

"Sorry," he said after remembering that Ladybug had spoken to him, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "What did you say?"

Snickering behind her hand, Ladybug repeated, "I said, it's getting late."

Adrien nodded. "Yeah," he said breathlessly.

"Our kwamis are probably tired," she continued. She gave him a knowing look. "And they might want to eat by now…"

"Uh-huh," Adrien said.

"Chat Noir." Ladybug buried her face in her palm as she laughed. "We should destransform. I'm wearing my mask underneath my suit, are you?"

"Oh!" Reaching behind his head to scratch at his neck, Adrien nodded furiously, a sheepish chuckle rising from his lips. "Oh, yes, of course! Yes. I'm good. I'm ready. Just, um-" he took a step back to put enough space between them, but in his haste ended up tripping over his own tail, stumbling backwards until he fell onto his rear with a slight thud. "Ow."

Ladybug simply shook her head before pulling him to a stand. "You're silly."

Adrien smirked in amusement. "You call me falling on my ass 'silly?'"

"Most things you do are," she replied with a wink for good measure. "Now stop delaying this and lose your transformation with me before we both chicken out and pay the delivery man wearing our suits."

"Okay, okay." Grinning, Adrien stood with his hands at his sides, breathing in and out slowly. He wasn't sure why, but he found himself letting his eyes slide closed, hands forming into fists and fingernails digging into his gloves just from the sheer nerves he felt about the whole situation. They'd never detransformed in front of each other before. Sure, he'd dreamed about it a hell of a lot, but most days he knew it wouldn't happen… They had a duty to the city, after all…. But still, he did find himself wishing.

And now that wish was coming true.

Swallowing thickly, Adrien murmured, "I'm ready."

"Me, too."

A beat of silence passed between them. Mustering all of his courage, Adrien stood up straight, taking in a breath before he said, "Plagg, destransform me."

He felt the familiar fizzle of his transformation receding, the tell-tale flash of green light seeping through his closed eyelids and wrapping around his form before fading the second it appeared, leaving him as Adrien instead of Chat Noir, without his suit and any sort of protection. Which was okay. Because this was Ladybug and he trusted her and he would give her his all any day of the year if she wanted him to.

A small gasp rose from in front of him, but he kept his eyes closed. It only took another moment for Ladybug to say her own detransformation phrase, and from that point on, Adrien knew things were going to be different.

A very good different.

"You can open your eyes now," Ladybug said. "It's just me."

"It's just me" she said, as if she was "just herself" and not an amazing, wonderful girl that he loved so much and had been waiting years to see the face of—

"I'd like some compensation for how much time you made me hold that transformation," Plagg spat, his outburst causing Adrien to snap open his eyes like shutters. "That was thirteen hours, Adri—"

Adrien swiped Plagg straight out of the air and shoved him right into his pocket before he could accidentally spill his civilian name out like some sort of micro-sized idiot. Stupid Plagg, nearly outing him like that! What was he thinking? Was he even thinking at all?

"You'll eat later," he hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at his pocket. He burned holes into his jeans with his stare for a moment or two so Plagg got the point, then finally, finally allowed himself to look up and see—

See— Ladybug— Oh. Oh. Ohhh no oh god oh goodness oh hell of holy fuck—

She was beautiful. Ethereal. Like a star that had fallen from the sky, or a ray of sunlight that had manifested into their home. (Their home. He'd never get tired of saying that.) She looked so- so radiant and lovely and he swore if she kept smiling at him like that he was going to become a puddle on the floor or- or worse, combust into flames!

"You…" he breathed, swallowing heavily. "You- you're so… so-"

So Ladybug. With her hair pulled up high into a ponytail, thin black strands kissing the edges of her cheeks and her collarbone actually visible and her sweater so red and pants so black she looked like her but different, and it was such a wonderful different that Adrien almost felt like he wanted to cry or scream and hug her so tight that he'd never, ever want to let go.

(But perhaps he was overreacting just a tad. It was only Ladybug, after all. He'd known her for seven years and counting and they were best friends—no need to act so star-struck.)

He briefly wondered what she thought of him, wearing his black V-neck and blue jeans with his dark domino mask she'd made him. Part of him wanted her to think he was cute—attractive, even—but he knew that even if she did, she probably wouldn't voice that opinion out loud.

Instead, he blinked owlishly at her. What was he supposed to say?

"Hey," Ladybug giggled, solving his problem for him. She waved a hand—a bare hand—and blushed, ever so slightly.

"...Hey," he said back.

"You know," she said, stepping closer. "Your eyes, they look weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm so used to them being completely green, but now they're just… White with green irises. And I like that."

Adrien gave a smile. His racing heart felt like it was about to jump right out of his chest. "I thought you said they were weird."

"Yeah," she said. "But a good weird."

She smiled, reaching out her hand slowly, tentatively, and grinned as their fingers—bare fingers—brushed for the very first time without the suits on. Adrien's lips parted in a quiet gasp, the feel of her skin running along his own in light, gentle touches making his chest squeeze in on itself with some sort of hot feeling that made him go all "!!!" inside.

Their fingers entwined, and their bare hands connected. The heat of her skin permeated his own. It was in that moment Adrien knew he was truly home.

"You look cute," Adrien said. He glanced her up and down once more, excitement flaring in his stomach. His lips stretched into a wide smile as he saw a little red kwami poking its head out from behind Ladybug's shoulder. "This is so strange but so cool. I mean, look at you! You're in like, clothes. I'm sorry, that's so weird to say, but it's true! You're- you still look like you, but… Different. You know?"

"I know what you mean," she said. "Your eyes and hair are different. Do you normally style it like this-" she paused to brush her fingers through his bangs, "-and transforming just makes it all go poof? And your eyes, they're so- pretty! And-" she placed a hand on his arm, giggling at how soft his skin felt and the feel of slight muscle underneath. "I like this."

Adrien laughed, "Me too."

Feeling like he was on top of the world, Adrien picked her up by the waist and spun her, laughing and smiling and knowing that everything was just right. They were home. They were with each other and they were home and happy and full of love and light and joy and wow, they were finally settled into their apartment!

Sure, they still had plenty of boxes to unpack and stuff to hook up and put away, and their place was completely devoid of food, but at the moment neither of them cared. They were happy, and that was all that mattered.

"Hellooo? I'm dying down here!" Plagg screeched from Adrien's pocket. "Please, Ladybug, get me some cheese. Your Chat Noir does not treat me with the respect that a god like myself deserves!"

Ugh. Plagg. Of course.

"Well, now, who is this?" Ladybug asked. She leaned down to get a good look at the tiny creature who flitted out from Adrien's pocket. "You're Plagg, right?"

Plagg nodded. His whiskers twitched with the movement. "Yes, that's right. I hope you don't mind the smell of Camembert because I expect it to be stored in every room of this place."

Shooting Adrien a sly grin, Ladybug stood up straight. "He's certainly demanding, isn't he?"

"And adorable!" Plagg added.

"Well, I can't disagree with that," Ladybug said, scratching under his chin with one of her pink-painted fingernails. Plagg (the little heathen that he was) lifted his head up and began to purr.

Adrien gave a playful roll of his eyes. "Don't inflate his ego."

Tikki, Adrien remembered, was the name of Ladybug's kwami. She was soft-spoken and sweet as he was introduced to her, which was the total opposite of Plagg, and her big blue eyes instantly stole Adrien's heart. Oh, she was so cute, just like her holder; he didn't know how Ladybug had never mentioned that before.

They sat on the couch to get to know each others kwamis, and not more than a few minutes after they'd gotten comfortable did their doorbell ring, reminding the pair that their food was hot and ready to be eaten. Ladybug answered the door and gave the delivery man a tip for his trouble, but as she closed the door, she let out a loud, amused laugh, returning to the couch with a wobbly grin on her face.

"What?" Adrien asked.

Ladybug snorted. "You should have seen that poor guy's face when he opened the door and saw me wearing this." She gestured to her mask. "He about fainted. I was afraid he was going to drop our food."

He could picture it now: a seemingly nice delivery guy working the night shift delivering food and having a bland sort of evening, but as soon as he opened the door to what he thought would be another normal customer, was met face-to-face with Ladybug. If that had happened to Adrien, he knew he'd be surprised, too.

"Now, I know we're excited to use our new kitchen table," Ladybug said as she began unpacking their food. "But I'm really just wanting to chill on the couch and watch some TV. But we never set that up, did we?"

Adrien looked to the TV and frowned, shaking his head. "Nope. Guess we're watching static."

"Aw," Ladybug said. But then an idea visibly struck her, and her eyes lit up like the Eiffel Tower itself. "C'mon," she said, motioning for him to follow her into her bedroom, and Adrien was thankful that she hadn't put up any personal photos or identifying items yet lest he unintentionally discover her identity the first night they spent together.

That would have been bad.

"Hold this," she said, shoving the food into his hands. Adrien gripped onto the brown paper bag so he wouldn't drop it.

He watched as Ladybug opened her bedroom window, her hair blowing slightly in the breeze that accompanied the outside air, and as soon as she slipped outside onto the fire escape, Adrien knew exactly what it was she wanted to do. He felt himself smile at her intention.

As she sat on one of the stair steps, Ladybug leaned back and sighed at the sight in front of her. Adrien joined her two steps below. Once he handed Ladybug her food he leaned back, using her lap as a headrest—which she didn't mind—and began to eat, attention captivated by the view the height of their apartment granted them.

They were on the top floor of the complex, so a breathtaking sight before them was a given. Though they weren't directly across from the Eiffel Tower, it was still pretty damn close, which made the sight of the city all the more beautiful. Adrien had grown up in this city, yes. But he'd never be tired of how it looked at night.

Lights in a rainbow of colors danced across the skyline, from neon signs to billboards and cell-phone towers; the sky was decorated by planes and the tops of buildings, all windows lit and awake and so, so bright. The traffic below was endless, but even the red and yellow lights from the cars speeding by were nice to look at, even as the bright blue flash of a police car sped by, racing down the street with its siren blaring across the city.

"Wuh-oh," Adrien chuckled, swallowing his food before continuing. "Glad that's not our job."

He felt rather than saw Ladybug reach down to ruffle his hair. "You bet. I'm happy to just sit here right now and eat and not worry about a thing."

They watched the city in silence as they ate their food. It wasn't long before they both were finished, and as they moved their trash to the windowsill, they sat contentedly on the steps with the breeze blowing through their hair and the sound of the city beginning to lull them both to sleep from their state of relaxation.

"Man, I love this," Adrien sighed. He shut his eyes, relishing in the feeling of getting to lay out in the open air like this with his head in Ladybug's lap, her fingers combing delicately through his hair and causing him to practically purr from the sensation. "We gotta eat like this every night."

Ladybug chuckled. "Yeah, it's nice." Her hands travelled down to his shoulders, where they rubbed aimless circles into the fabric of his shirt. "I'm so glad there wasn't an akuma attack today. That would have really thrown us off of our groove."

"Yeah," Adrien yawned. Stretching his arms up, he grunted, allowing his muscles to completely relax. "I'm too tired to do like, anything else right now. I'd really love to watch a movie and go to bed early, actually."

"Me too," Ladybug said. "I don't think I even want to move."

The akuma alarm began to sound.

Adrien groaned. "Are you kidding me!?"

Marinette was exhausted. Like, exhausted, exhausted. Pretty much "too tired to even move" exhausted.

As she and Chat Noir crawled back through her bedroom window, she immediately dropped her transformation and fell face-first onto her bed, which she was thankful she had made earlier in the day. Her bones felt achy and her arms were like taffy, worn and stretched beyond their normal use, and her legs felt like jello. When Chat Noir (who had just destransformed in front of her for the second time that night and looked so stupidly cute in his V-neck and jeans and hair all styled and ugh) asked her if she was okay, she simply let out a faint, barely-audible grumble and reached blindly around her bed for her laptop.

"Watch a movie with me," she told him. It wasn't a request.

"TV isn't set up, 'Bug, remember?" he asked, but Marinette simply sat up and opened her computer, determined to reach peak relaxation before she drifted off and went back to work the next morning.

"I have Netflix on here," she said. "Go change into your pajamas and I'll have something picked out when you come back."

Rubbing at the hairs on his nape, Chat Noir nodded, his viridian eyes blinking behind his mask. "Oh, um, okay."

She watched as he walked across the hall to his bedroom. The sound of his feet walking across the hardwood floor made Marinette glad they didn't have carpet. Captivated by the way he walked—because he wasn't wearing his suit—she only looked away once he'd shut his bedroom door, presumably to get undressed. Which, admittedly, was not a thought she wanted to dwell on for too long. Really.

She was thankful that their bedrooms were directly across from each other, though. That way they could look at each other and talk to one another, even if they were in their own rooms.

While Chat Noir was changing into his pajamas, she did the same. She switched into the red-and-black polka-dotted sleeping pants she'd designed for herself and threw on a black T-shirt, slipping under her covers with her back supported by her cat pillow once she was situated. She scrolled through Netflix for a few moments before deciding on a particularly funny movie while she waited for her partner to return.

She must have been dozing off, because when Chat Noir knocked on her doorway, her eyes snapped open and she sat up quickly, frowning as he laughed at her.

"Hey, sleepy-head," he said, sitting down on the edge of her bed with his legs crossed. She briefly glanced at his gray sweatpants and black T-shirt before looking back at his face, which wasn't at all attractive, no, not at all, no way.

"Shush," she said playfully. "I'm gonna play this movie and if I fall asleep, please don't wake me."

Chat scooted up so he was lying next to her above the covers. "I promise I won't. I'll just slip off to bed super discrete-like."

Marinette laughed as she pressed play. "Good."

"What's with this pillow?" he asked, poking the ear of her giant cat. "Where do people get these? A friend of mine had one a while ago when we were in collége. I kind of want one."

As she scooted down into her bed with the blanket reaching her chest, Marinette grinned, setting the laptop between them once the movie began to play. "Internet."

"Yeah?" Chat asked. "I'm gonna get one. It's gonna be black with green eyes and be almost as cute as I am."

"Of course you are."

Stretching her arms above her head, Marinette winced slightly as the underwire of her bra began irritating her skin. Normally she slept without wearing one, but since Chat Noir was in her room with her…

Ah, screw it. If he was going to be living with her, he was gonna have to get used to her being as comfortable as she wanted to.

She sat up and reached underneath her shirt, her hands going behind her back to unclasp her bra. One it was unclasped she slid it down and took it off without even lifting up her shirt, opting to just throw the damn thing to the side, ignoring how her partner watched her with wide eyes. She simply laughed and resituated herself into a more comfortable position, feeling slightly embarrassed but for the most part pretty nonchalant about the whole thing.

"What?" she chuckled. "Hey, I live here too. I'm not gonna make myself uncomfortable just for the sake of being polite."

"Hey, I-" he paused to clear his throat, cheeks reddening deeper with every second that passed. "I have no problem with you- you uh, being comfortable. I'm still amazed by how girls manage to take their bras off without taking off their shirts, but I, uh, I digress. You don't need to worry about… All that. Just be you." His voice cracked as he pointed back at the screen. "Anyway, uh, movie?"

It didn't take long for them both to fall into a near-asleep state. Heaving a yawn so powerful it caused tears to prick at her eyes, Marinette reached over to turn off her bedside lamp and rolled onto her side, having forgotten about the movie or even why she had put it on in the first place. She curled up underneath her covers and scooted closer to Chat, whose body heat was certainly tempting to cuddle up to, but she refrained. He would probably get up any moment to head to bed himself, which was fine. She was tired anyway.

"Chat?" she whispered, her voice nothing more than a tired peep. "You going to bed?"

"Hmm…?"

Aw. Poor kitty sounded so tired.

Blinking open one eye, Marinette smiled as her vision focused and found her partner nearly asleep on his side, blonde-stained eyelashes twitching against his cheeks and lips (that weren't at all kissable) parted just slightly. Knowing he would probably get cold, she threw half of her blanket over him and shut her laptop, finally feeling herself completely relax as darkness filled the room.

"Why are the lights off?" he asked, voice gravelly from his exhaustion. "It's so dark in here."

Marinette scooted closer. "It's bedtime."

"Oh," he said. "I'd better get up then. G'night." He stirred and made a move to sit up, but Marinette wrapped an arm around his own, hugging his bicep and pressing her cheek against his skin. "'Bug?"

"Bedtime," Marinette repeated. She practically found it impossible to open her eyes. She was so comfortable here with Chat next to her... He didn't really have to leave, did he…?

Chat Noir certainly wasn't complaining. He hesitated a moment before he wrapped his arms around her middle, and she found that she liked being held by another person. Quite a bit, actually.

(He smelled really nice this close.)

As Marinette lie awake, she enjoyed how quiet it was, save for the faint sound of her partner's breathing. While he was fast asleep, she simply lay there, thinking about how happy she was to finally be settled into their place.

Today had been good. No—today had been great. Spending time with Chat Noir, lifting all the furniture and unpacking their boxes before sharing lunch on the floor before their couch had been dragged in… It was wonderful. Hard work, but wonderful regardless.

Chat Noir was such a great friend. She couldn't wait to experience everything that came with having him as a roommate.

(Even if that meant admitting to herself that she may think he's quite cute.)

Ah, well. Tomorrow was another day—another step in her future. And now she would be able to experience that with her best friend.

Marinette felt content.

Chapter Text

A rapping at the front door caused Marinette to awaken at dawn.

As she lifted her head from her pillow, she groaned, blinking the harsh morning sunlight from her heavy eyes and rubbing at her face in an attempt to rid the remaining bits of sleepiness that still clouded her vision. She stretched her legs out across the mattress, but frowned when she accidentally kicked something that definitely didn't feel like a pillow—before remembering who exactly had fallen asleep in her bed last night and feeling a bit of remorse.

Marinette immediately apologized as her partner stirred. A soft complaint rose from his lips.

"Sorry," she said again, placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it in slow, reassuring circles. "Didn't mean to kick you."

"S'kay," Chat Noir mumbled. He squinted at her for a brief moment and flashed her what looked like a grin, his eyes falling back to a close not a second later. He was still half asleep, so Marinette figured she'd just let him rest.

As he began to drift back off, she absentmindedly ran a hand through his bangs, a happy little feeling rising up in her chest as his lips curled into a barely-there smile, looking so cute (not cute, absolutely not) lying there with her pink sheets over his form, his hair a golden mess and masked face buried in one of her pillows.

With a glance to her alarm clock, Marinette noted that it was barely seven A.M. Which wasn't too early, to be quite honest, but if she had the opportunity to sleep in until nine she surely wouldn't pass it up.

Tikki squeaked out a yawn as she lifted her head from her spot next to Plagg on Chat Noir's pillow. "Who's at the door?"

"Don't know," Marinette said. "But I'm gonna go check."

"Oh, Marinette," Tikki said, eyes wide and voice suddenly alert. "Your ma-"

The knocking on their door came a second time. Marinette sighed as she slung her legs over her bed, bare feet connecting with the cold wood of the floor. She reluctantly came to a stand. With a stretch of her arms above her head and a yawn, she trekked out into the living room, feeling agitation begin to fester once whoever was outside knocked a third time.

It was so early. Who on Earth could possibly be at their front door at this hour?

As she opened the door with the rising sun shining in her eyes through the windows in the hall, she was met by the faces of her parents, their smiles so bright they nearly blinded her. They held a box in their hands—which Marinette recognized as the cake she'd neglected to remember to take home the day before—and greeted her with a warm, loving hug.

In a brief panic she slapped a hand to her cheek, feeling momentarily relieved as she realized her mask was gone, but then falling right back into that oh shit kind of panic when she realized that her mask was gone.

"Marinette!" Sabine cried, squeezing her daughter tightly. "Good morning, honey. How did everything go yesterday? Was your first night okay? Did you sleep well? Eat anything?"

Marinette stiffened at how loudly her mother had shouted her name. "Aha, I'm- I'm okay, maman. I slept great! We've mostly got everything in, but there's still a few things at home I need to get and quite a few boxes to unpack, but um—"

"Oh, we can help you, Marinette!" her father said. "Here, we brought you your cake. We understand that you were probably too tired to pick it up yesterday, so we figured hey, you're usually up early, we'll just bring it right over!"

Sabine poked her head into the doorway, gaze dashing all over the living room as she had a quick look around. "Oh, Marinette, it looks so lovely inside! Is Adrien awake?"

Feeling her heart practically freeze in her chest, Marinette shook her head fiercely. Her voice cracked as she said, "No, no! No! He's not here! I mean—" she quickly glanced back to her bedroom door, which she'd left open like an idiot. If Chat Noir woke up…. "—he is here, but he's not… here. He's asleep. So physically he's here but mentally he's—"

"Oh, that's a shame," her father said, smiling sadly. "We wanted to give this to the both of you together. But I'm sure it'll be fine if we leave it here for you two to eat when he wakes up. Is it okay if we come in for a minute?"

They stepped in without waiting for her response. Marinette sighed. She loved her parents more than anything, but they were so… invasive at times.

"Y-yeah, yeah, just- let me, uh- um. One second." Shutting the door behind her parents, Marinette dashed into the hall and shut her bedroom door and locked it, whispering an apology to her partner under her breath for locking his sleeping self in her room. It would be fine; it was just while her parents were here. He'd probably sleep until after they left… Hopefully…

"Okay," Marinette said as she returned to her living room. She found her parents sitting on Chat's couch—well, their couch, really—and stepped in front of them with a grin that was all too wide to be convincing. "I'm here. Sorry. I just had to… Lock the cat up."

She had to resist the urge to smack a hand to her forehead because what the actual fuck, mouth and brain, you're not supposed to work together without my permission!

"A cat?" her mother asked. Her hand went to lay across Tom's. "You have a pet so soon? Are you sure that's a good idea, Marinette?"

"Of course it is," Tom said. His grin stretched across his face. "Cats are lovely animals! I think it's great that you got a pet, Marinette. I know you've always wanted one. I'm sorry we couldn't have any in the bakery while you were growing up."

Swallowing her scream, Marinette nodded. Her feet shuffled awkwardly on the floor. "Oh, um, yeah. He's great. Actually, I don't-"

"This is such a lovely place." Sabine stood from the couch and walked to the sliding glass door beside the kitchen, letting herself out onto the balcony. Marinette shot a glance to her father. He simply shrugged in response and followed his wife out the door.

The familiar sound of Tikki zipping to her side caused Marinette to turn.

"Marinette," Tikki said, eyes glowing with concern, "I was trying to tell you before. Your mask, it's not on! You must have lost it overnight."

"I know," she responded in a whisper. Worry laced her tone. "I don't know where it went! It's probably in my bed somewhere. Do you think you could look for me while I entertain my parents? I'm sure they'll be gone soon."

Tikki nodded. "Of course, Marinette." She flitted back out of the room and phased through Marinette's bedroom door, presumably to look for her mask. Which she desperately hoped Tikki would find before Chat Noir woke up and tried to get out of her bedroom before realizing he was locked in and yelling her name—not her name, her superhero name—and revealing her alter-ego to her parents and- and oh, god.

Breathe, she reminded herself. Taking in a breath to steady her undying nerves, Marinette stepped onto the balcony with her parents, feeling a cool morning breeze caress her face as she placed her bare feet on the concrete flooring. The sun was already making its ascent up the sky. Thin white clouds trailed lazily behind the plethora of buildings that decorated the city. The shadows that cast along the roads below were purple in hue, and as Marinette stood next to her mother by the one chair Chat Noir had brought out yesterday, she noticed that a flock of pigeons were gathering in front of the sandwich shop six stories underneath them.

The morning really was peaceful. She was a little glad her parents had woken her just as the sun had risen. At least this way she had some extra time before she had to be at work, and seeing her mother and father was always a plus. Despite her morning grumpiness, she really did love them.

"You really do have a beautiful place here," her father said as he patted her back, coming to stand at her side. "It's a lot smaller than what I'm sure you're used to, but do you think you'll like it?"

There was no hesitation on Marinette's part. "I already love it. It's great so far."

"We're so happy for you," Sabine cooed. She wrapped her arms around her daughter's waist and smiled. "But we are going to miss you at home. It's going to be different to not have you around anymore."

"I know," Marinette said. She offered a slight frown, but it quickly faded from her cheeks as her parents both placed kisses upon them. "It's gonna be weird for me, too. And I'm sure I'm going to miss you guys a lot. But I'm only a phone call away, remember?"

"And the same goes for us," Tom said. "If you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let us know, sweetheart. We'll always be there for you, okay?"

Marinette's smile was so wide it made the sides of her face hurt. "I know. Thank you, maman, and thank you, papa. You really are the best parents in the world."

A quiet tapping at the glass door made Marinette turn her head. Tikki floated in the air, the Ladybug mask clasped in her tiny paws and her expression one of concern. She motioned with her head for Marinette to come inside, and by the look on her face, Marinette could tell that there was something indoors that required her immediate attention.

At least her parents hadn't noticed the knocking on the glass.

"You know what?" Marinette said, voice raising an octave as she took a step back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tikki fly out of the her of sight in a blur of red. "I'm gonna go get us something to drink!"

"That would be lovely," her mother said. "What do you have?"

"We have…" Marinette swallowed. "Water."

Tom and Sabine share a look. Then (with a stifled laugh) her father said, "Water's fine, hon."

"Great! I'll be right back."

Turning on her heel, Marinette nearly tripped on her way back inside, making sure to close the glass door behind her as she rounded the kitchen and met Tikki in the hallway, who still held her mask in her paws. As the kwami opened her mouth to speak, however, she was quickly cut off by her charge's roommate knocking on her bedroom door.

"Bugineeeeette," he whined, a playful whimper in his voice. "Help me! I'm stuck. The door locked itself and now I'm trapped in here forever."

Huffing out a sigh, Marinette took the mask from her kwami and slipped it back on her face, unlocking the bedroom door and bursting in with a hand over her partner's mouth. "Shush," she hissed, stumbling over her own feet. "My parents are here. You have to be quiet."

Chat Noir's eyes bulged with excitement. "Parents?" he whispered, gently removing her hand which was cupped over his mouth. "You parents are here? I thought I heard voices. I bet they're so nice! Can I meet them?"

"No!" she shouted, but then quickly realized her blunder and lowered her voice. "No. Sorry, kitty, but you might know who they are and I can't risk that. You know we can't. I know this is your place too, but can you maybe hide until they leave? They shouldn't be here too much longer."

Chat gave a nod. "Of course, my Lady. I'll just hop in the shower, then." He added a wink for good measure before stepping out of her bedroom and walking across the hall to his own, where he gathered some clothes from his dresser and opened one of the boxes on the floor to pull out a bright green towel. Her eyes followed his sleep-rumpled form as he shut the bathroom door behind him, and her cheeks certainly did not become a few shades deeper as she heard the shower turn on.

Well. At least that problem was solved. For now.

Breathe, she told herself once more, the word an endless mantra in her head. Marinette clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides as she attempted to compose herself. The anxiety of having her parents over and both them and Chat Noir being a little too close to discovering her secret was more nerve-wracking than she expected it would be. Still, though she had known the whole "living with her superhero partner" idea would be quite risky, now that it was a reality it was making her feel more than a little anxious.

Not scared enough to call it off, of course, but… she still did worry.

"I love my parents," she said to Tikki. "But they kind of need to leave right now before I'm late for work."

A smudge of black zipped past Marinette's field of vision before settling in front of her face, leaving a very grumpy-looking Plagg in its place. "So kick them out."

Marinette frowned. "I can't do that. They're my parents. They just wanted to pop in to say hi."

"And they've overstayed their welcome, by the looks of it," Plagg said. He drifted lazily through the air and towards the kitchen, Marinette trailing behind. "Tell them to leave so you and Adr- I mean, Chat, can have some peace on your first morning in this place. And by you two, I also mean me." He phased into the refrigerator, his voice muffled from the chilled walls. "No cheese? No cheese? What kind of heathens are you? Who can live in a place without cheese!?"

Tikki rolled her eyes. "Hush now, Plagg. Be respectful. I'm sure they'll get food some other time."

"They'd better," Plagg said.

With a brief giggle, Marinette made her way back out to the porch, but not before Tikki reminded her to take her mask back off. Thank goodness for her.

"There you are," Sabine said as she returned. "You doing okay, honey? Your face is red."

Marinette rubbed at her cheek. She didn't meet the gaze of her mother. "I'm fine."

They didn't question her after that, or ask where their supposed glasses of water had gone.

Her parents stayed for fifteen more minutes until they decided to depart. They wished her goodbye with hugs and kisses before heading out; Marinette watched them walk down the corridor until they disappeared around a corner, shutting and locking the door once they were gone. While she was a little sad to see her parents go, she couldn't say she wasn't thankful that they had left. She had to be to work by ten, and if she still wanted to shower and put some makeup on, she had to get ready soon.

It didn't help that it was nearing eight in the morning and she still hadn't even brushed her hair (or teeth for that matter.)

Leaning against the door with a heavy sigh, Marinette slid down until her rear hit the floor, hand placed over her racing heart. Oh, man. If her parents—or even friends—made showing up unannounced a regular thing, the whole secret-identity thing was going to a bust. A real big bust.

She heard the shower shut off. Her heart did not still its beating.

Well, that was certainly enough anxiety for one day. She slipped her mask back on without another complaint.

Her attention was captivated as the bathroom door opened, however, and she stood from the floor as steam clouded out into the hall before her partner stepped through the doorway. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and white jeans, feet bare and sticking to the hardwood floor as he walked since his skin was still slick. The green towel he'd chosen earlier was being ruffled against his mop of golden hair, which dangled from the plush fabric and dripped droplets of water onto the rug. His mask was still on his face—of course it would be—and his cheeks were a barely-there shade of red, most likely heated from the temperature of the shower.

He sauntered out as if he wasn't the most beautiful damn thing Marinette had ever seen.

Because he wasn't. He wasn't, right? There's no way he was prettier than Adrien. Nobody ever was.

(But if he kept that up—whatever it was he was doing—Adrien might have some real stiff competition.)

She… Needed some water.

"Enjoying the view?" Chat Noir teased, momentarily sticking his head back in the bathroom to hang up the wet towel.

Marinette stuck out her tongue as she approached him. (He smelled really nice—like mint and ginger.) "No," she said, bumping her hip against his as she passed him in the hallway. "I'm just relieved you're finally out of the shower so I can take my own."

"Ah," Chat said. "Well, it's free now. All warmed up for you."

She could feel his eyes on her as she grabbed a towel from the closet in her room.

Walking back to the bathroom, Marinette said, "Good." She shut the door behind her, the heat of the previous shower curling around her skin as she began to undress out of her pajamas. "By the way, there's cake in the fridge if you want some. My parents brought it over."

The pitch of Chat Noir's voice rose as the words left her lips. "Cake? For me?"

"For us," she laughed. She could smell Chat Noir's cologne in the misty air. "Don't eat it all."

"Did they make it?"

"I can't answer that. But rest assured knowing they got it from the best bakery in Paris."

"Oh, hell yeah."

Chat Noir's footsteps thudded down the hallway. Marinette grinned at her partner's eagerness.

With a stretch of her arms, she removed her mask and hung her clothing on one of the wooden hooks and let her hair down, feeling at peace in the heat of the bathroom. The mirror was still completely fogged up, and a few puddles remained on the bottom of the tub. It was warm to the touch as she toed in. She twisted the handle to the shower and waited a few moments for it to get up to temperature before she stepped underneath its spray.

The water felt nice and hot against her back, relaxing the remnants of the nerves she'd felt earlier. There was rarely anything more calming than a nice shower—except for a long bath, of course…

Marinette made a mental note to take one the next time she had a night off.

Once she was showered and clean, she dried herself with her towel and blow-dried her hair before sticking her head outside the door to check for her partner. The chill of the hallway caused her to shiver. "Chat?" she called, reaching for her mask (which she'd left on the sink.) "Where are you?"

"In the kitchen, eating some of this bomb-ass cake," he called. "Why?"

Marinette felt her cheeks redden. "Because I need to make a dash to my bedroom for clothes and all I have is this towel."

There was a beat of silence. "O-oh, um, yeah. Go ahead. Not looking."

"Thanks!"

The dart across the hall was as cold as a mid-winter morning.

Thankful to be in her room with the door shut, Marinette dressed herself in a black pencil skirt and a white button-up blouse, throwing her hair up in a bun before sitting at her vanity—which had been a bitch to pull up the elevator yesterday, by the way—and putting on some makeup. She fluffed up her eyelashes with mascara, lined her eyes with a thin black, and filled in her lips with a red lipstick. She really did feel quite pretty. 

Marinette unplugged her phone from its charger on her nightstand and checked the time. It was nearing nine—she would have to leave soon if she was going to be walking to work. A small part of her considered asking Chat Noir for a ride, but then that would cause a whole lot of other issues where he discovered where she worked, and then she would have to discreetly take off her mask before going in and… Yeah.

She really needed a car. Or a bike. 

But walking or taking the metro was fine.

Slipping on some flats, Marinette threw her mask back on her face before making her way back into the kitchen, where her partner was arguing with his kwami. An empty plate sat in front of him. His fork was pushed to the side. Seeing him sitting there relaxed in one of their kitchen chairs, his head in his palms and fingers carding through his hair in frustration, Marinette couldn't help but let loose a laugh.

"What did I miss?" she asked, watching as Plagg crossed his arms with an indignant huff.

"Chat Noir here is being difficult," the kwami hissed. His tail flicked back and forth. "We need a separate fridge for my cheese. I had a mini-fridge at our old place full of Camembert and I need one now. I can't go on with my day until I've eaten at least three wheels for breakfast!"

Chat groaned. "You don't need that much cheese, Plagg. You just want an unnecessary amount. It's an expensive habit of yours that needs to be toned down now that we don't live with my dad anymore."

Turning away from his holder, Plagg squinted at Marinette with disgust in his gaze. "He starves me. I'm not treated with respect here, you see? I bet Tikki gets to eat as much as she wants."

"Hey," Tikki said from across the table, turning her attention from the small piece of cake she was eating. "Don't involve me in this."

"Tikki likes cookies," Marinette said. She pulled out a chair at the table and chuckled behind her hand. "I can buy a family-sized pack for four euros at the grocery store. How much does one wheel of camembert cost, again?"

"Don't answer that," Chat cut in.

Plagg scoffed.

As Chat Noir finally broke his heated stare-down with his kwami, his lips parted in a silent gasp, pupils dilating just slightly as his eyes met her own. Marinette blinked, feeling her cheeks heat under his gaze, especially as it flicked up and down from her face to her shirt (and then back to her face.) He was looking at her like… Like he'd never seen her before, like—

"You're beautiful," he blurted. He glanced at her lips before his eyes retreated to his hands. "Sorry. I don't know why I said that."

Marinette grinned sheepishly. At least the compliment was nice. "Oh, um. Thanks, kitty."

A beat of silence passed between them.

"Well!" She stood from her chair abruptly. It was hard to ignore how the tips of her ears burned. "I have to get going before I'm late. Are you working today?"

Chat nodded. He still wouldn't look at her. "No. Why?"

"Great," Marinette said. She grabbed her purse from the counter (where she had apparently left it last night) and slipped her phone in, checking the clock one last time before she did so. "Do you think you could go grocery shopping today? While eating takeout is nice, I don't think it's healthy for us to do that every night."

Her partner dipped his head backward over the backrest of the chair to grin at her, having apparently gotten over his momentary embarrassment. "Sure, 'Bug. What should I get?"

She was going to be tardy if she didn't leave now. "Anything you want. I don't care. I'll see you after seven, okay?"

"Alright." Chat Noir stood from his chair. His fingers brushed hers as he opened the door for her. "Have a good day, Ladybug."

Marinette smiled. "I'll try."

As the door shut behind her, she had a feeling today was going to be great.

Grocery shopping was not as easy as most people made it out to be.

Adrien was learning that the hard way.

He… Hadn't really realized that eating food and buying food were two entirely different things. Sure, he knew sorts of foods that went together and he knew that there were vegetables and fruits that people usually enjoyed, but… He didn't know where to find them or even how to start looking, or what to start looking for.

Instead, he sat at the front of the Carrefour grocery store, hands squeezing the handle of the cart until his knuckles turned white and eyes darting back and forth across each end of the store. Okay, so the produce section was to the right, and the dairy aisle was to the left… And in front of him was the frozen aisle, as well as the plethora of registers that decorated the checkout area. And he had his cart. Which was good. He was off to an okay start.

Adrien sighed. If only he hadn't grown up rich enough where his father had someone do even their grocery shopping for them. He only had a vague idea of how this whole process worked.

He really wished Ladybug had left him a list…

"Plagg," he hissed to the pocket of his jacket, glancing up to make sure nobody was watching, "what do I do?"

Plagg poked his head out from hiding. "Simple. Just get the cheese and then go home."

Frowning, Adrien said, "Be serious, Plagg. We need food too."

The tiny god gave a roll of his eyes. "Fine. Just pick a side of the store and make your way down each aisle until you reach the end. Get stuff you think looks good. Like cookies or cheese." He let out a yawn before retreating back into his pocket, snuggling up on the inside. "Now let me nap. A cat as handsome as I am needs his beauty sleep."

"...Right."

Okay. So, all he had to do was start at one end and make his way to the next. Seemed simple enough.

Produce. Produce was a good place to start.

He rolled his cart down to the produce section, which was brightly lit with an array of all sorts of fruits and vegetables lining the walls. There were wooden bins with apples and oranges, and all around him the scent of citrus filled the air. As he approached a display of potatoes, Adrien picked one up and weighed it in his hands. Potatoes were good. Everyone likes potatoes, right?

But… How many did he need? What was a good amount? Six? Ten? A dozen? Two dozen?

God, he was about to have a fucking existential crisis over damn potatoes. People were starting to stare. Feeling his cheeks begin to redden, he grabbed a five-kilo bag and stuffed it in his cart before strolling on his way.

He picked up vegetables he'd usually seen made in meals at his home, like carrots and broccoli and asparagus, as well as a selection of fruits (like strawberries and apples and others) for snacks. He roamed the green vegetables; lettuce and green beans were a good choice. Maybe some salad bags?

Ugh, this was so hard. How did he know what to get when he didn't know the first thing about cooking? He'd only ever had food prepared for him—he'd never made anything himself. He didn't know any recipes or even where to start.

(Again, he really wished he had a list, but he could do this himself. Ladybug had asked him to. They might just have to, uh… Improvise for dinner.)

Adrien travelled up and down each aisle, tossing things he thought would be a good addition to their fridge or pantry into his cart. He decided he would pick up fresh baked bread from a bakery and get meat from a butcher, so he only needed a few things here at the store. As he walked down a particularly brightly colored aisle, however, his attention was captivated by the sickeningly sweet smell that drifted into the air, and his senses were on high alert over the fact that there was definitely sugar somewhere close. Very close.

Ohhhh boy. This was heaven. This was a dangerous territory. Didn't bright colors in nature mean something was bad? Something that could kill you?

But yet he was drawn to the colors, the scents, the enticing idea of stuffing his face with junk food. From everything he had been taught as a child—"don't eat that, that's bad for you, Adrien"—all he wanted to do right now was indulge.

No, he shouldn't. He really shouldn't. With a sigh, he turned his cart and prepared to walk away.

But then his eyes locked on the blue-colored packages of Oreo cookies. His nose was drawn to the scent of pre-made brownies. His hands—

Oh, no. His hands had just grabbed three boxes of popcorn.

Oh- oh. And now they had thrown all three of those boxes into the cart.

Silly me, he thought as he gazed at the Doritos. We don't need this stuff.

Yet the bag of chips ended up in his cart.

I should be responsible.

He wondered how many chocolate-chip cookies he could eat before he made himself sick as he slid a family-sized package on top of a box of uncooked pasta.

Ladybug might not be happy to find me coming home with all this junk, he told himself, eyeing a bag of marshmallows—a treat he'd never eaten before. They bounced as they fell into his cart. I should stop while I'm ahead.

Despite himself, he kept browsing.

By the time he mustered up the will to leave the aisle, his cart was piled halfway with all sorts of things that tasted great but were bad for the body. An inkling of guilt began to rise up within him as he gathered seasonings. Ladybug had told him to get whatever he wanted, right? And he'd never had the opportunity to eat anything he desired before. Sure, he wasn't starved as a child nor was he deprived of sweets every now and then, but… He was a model, and a model has a certain physique to keep. That did hinder him from splurging as a teenager—especially when he'd always wanted it.

So, he had gone a little overboard. Whatever. He was done with the unhealthy food for now.

His hips swayed to the generic pop music on the radio as he dropped four boxes of Pop Tarts into his cart.

After collecting some cereal, milk, eggs and coffee, Adrien was almost certain he was finished.

Until his phone buzzed with a text from Nino, and he realized he'd been in the damn store for an hour and a half and hadn't even gotten anything that could make a single meal. Heaving a sigh, Adrien pondered his dilemma for a moment before he dialed up his best friend with a frustrated groan.

As Nino picked up, Adrien began rambling. "Nino, you've gotta help me. My roommate sent me to the grocery store and I don't know what I'm doing. I've got so much stuff in my cart and I don't even know how much it's gonna cost me but I've got a ton of fruit and vegetables and some kinds of pasta and eggs and coffee and a lot of okay stuff and I think I'm spending over a hundred euros on snacks. What kind of stuff        am I supposed to buy? I've never done this before!"

The loud outburst of Nino's guffaw on the other end caused Adrien to tear his phone away from his ear with a wince.

"Don't laugh," Adrien whined.

He could practically hear Nino wheezing.

"I'm sorry, man," Nino said. "This is just so funny. You've never been grocery shopping before? Ever?"

Adrien was silent for a few seconds longer than what was comfortable. He pouted, "...No."

"That's crazy."

"Can you just help me out?" Adrien sighed, running a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Give me some recipes or something. I need something to work with. What kind of spices do I need? I have salt and pepper and garlic but what else?"

"Oh, boy," Nino said, laughter in his tone. "Alright. Buckle up, Agreste. We're gonna be here a while."

By the time he'd left the store, it was already nearing twelve-thirty in the afternoon.

He made a quick stop to the butchery to pick up some fresh meat, and hit up Plagg's favorite cheese spot to grab a couple wheels of Camembert, as well as some Brie for he and his Lady to eat on the crackers he'd bought earlier. On a whim he stopped at the chocolatier's shop next door and purchased a gift for Ladybug, and he couldn't help but spoil Tikki with a special set of fancy cookies.

His bill wasn't as hefty as he had expected, but he supposed that was due to Alya's talent of being frugal, who had also laughed in the background when Nino had mentioned Adrien had never been grocery shopping before. It was an embarrassment he'd learned to get over rather quickly, because ultimately he did what he'd needed to: get food for Ladybug and himself.

Now all he had to worry about was getting bread from a bakery. And he knew exactly where to go.

As he stepped through the familiar glass doors of T&S Bakery, he was met with the delicious aroma of fresh bread and pastries, the pleasantly buttery scent of the two combined filling the room and making his stomach rumble with the desire for food. As the smell drifted into his nose, Adrien's heart flipped in his chest from a bittersweet sort of nostalgia from when he was a teenager in lycée.

The bakery had always been a central meeting place for he and his group of friends; Marinette's house was just so warm and welcoming that Nino, Alya and himself had always found themselves winding up there after school hours for an evening of snacks and video games. They'd relax on her couch, tell jokes and call each other names in a friendly sort of teasing, and more often than not Marinette's parents would invite them to stay over for dinner. And, even though Adrien hadn't been allowed to prolong his visit most of the time—he thanked his dick of a father for that—he still enjoyed his time spent with his three best friends. Excluding Ladybug, of course.

(The memory from just a few weeks ago of he and Marinette half-drunk and sleep-deprived at her kitchen table, drinking coffee and laughing at themselves resurfaced within his mind, and the reminder that he had unintentionally asked her on a date rose back up to smack him in the face. He still needed to call her about that… If she still wanted to go to dinner with him, that is. He hoped she did. She was so nice and pretty and such a great friend.)

"Adrien!" a voice cried. Adrien looked up to see Marinette's mother approaching him from behind the register. She removed her apron and set it on the counter before wrapping him in a tight hug. "How are you? We missed you this morning!"

Missed him? This… Morning? What?

"Oh, um." He returned the hug lightly. Physical affection (from anyone other than Ladybug, at least) was still something he wasn't quite used to. "This morning? Where was I?"

Sabine pulled back from the embrace with a confused quirk of her eyebrow. "Marinette said you were asleep when we visited. We wanted to give you your cake together, but she had to get ready for work, so we didn't get to see you. Did you get a chance to eat it yet?"

"Cake?" Puzzled, Adrien frowned. He hadn't eaten any cake this morning, or seen one for that matter… Had he? His day had been such a mess of running all over town that he couldn't recall. "...Yes?" he lied. He didn't want to hurt her feelings over an uneaten cake—especially if she and Tom had gone to such lengths to prepare one for him and Marinette. Wherever the cake in question had gone...

Was he supposed to have met Marinette somewhere this morning and forgot?

Sabine's face lit up like the city at night. "Oh! That's wonderful, honey! How did you like it?"

Adrien scratched at the back of his neck. "It was… Good. I liked it."

"I'm so glad." Sabine smiled as she went to serve a customer at the register. "Strawberry has always been Marinette's favorite flavor, especially in cakes."

"It's one of mine, too," Adrien said. He stepped in line behind two other customers, as business had started trickling in once more. He did come here for bread, after all. "Though my favorite of all time is probably vanilla."

Sabine grinned. "Good to know."

After picking up a couple baguettes and a package of sliced bread (as well as some pain au chocolat for his Lady), Adrien placed the last of his items into his car—borrowed from his father, of course, since he couldn't load groceries on his motorcycle—and made his way home. He felt the familiar joy of twisting his keys in the lock to the door that was now his, and even as he struggled to heft the bags of groceries from his car, to the elevator and to the kitchen, he felt happy. Overjoyed, even.

He set the food down on the counter with a huff. It didn't take him too long to unload the groceries into the fridge. It was practically filled with food once he was near finished, which was a good sight to see.

As he was sliding in a jug of milk, however, his eyes landed on the beautifully decorated box from Tom and Sabine's bakery, and the memory of the delicious cake he'd eaten this morning resurfaced back into his mind…

Huh… Was that the cake Sabine had been talking about? She'd given it to him, not Marinette… But how would she even get inside? Marinette's parents didn't know Ladybug. Did they leave it on the doorstep? Is that who had been at the door this morning?

But he'd heard voices. And Ladybug had said her parents had visited. Unless…

"Give me my cheese," Plagg demanded. He rifled through the brown paper grocery bags, tossing a bunch of carrots over his shoulder as he searched for his precious Camembert. "Where is it? Where?"

Adrien sighed. "It's not in there," he said, plucking Plagg out of the bag by his tail. Plagg squirmed in his grasp. "It's in the plastic bag with the cheese logo. You know the one."

With a gasp, Plagg zipped out from his holder's clutches, diving into the bag and ripping a wheel out of its package. A putrid odor hit the air; Adrien had to stifle a gag as he pinched his nostrils shut.

"Could you at least eat that outside?" he asked, voice nasally as he breathed out of his mouth. "It's going to stink the whole apartment up."

Plagg stuck out his tongue. "Fine," he said, holding up his head like the high-and-mighty god that he thought he was, "I like the sunshine, anyway."

It was with a breath of relief that Adrien resumed putting away their groceries. With Plagg outside eating his wretched, wretched cheese, he was once again free to breathe and smell like a normal human being.

Camembert… So nasty. It both smelled and tasted awful.

He stacked all of the sweets (the excessive amount that there was) into the cabinets above the sink, his cheeks momentarily heating at what he imagined his partner would say when she came home to find that the pantry was stuffed to the brim with snacks. Shrugging it off as a problem for later, he made himself a sandwich for lunch and hooked up the television before plugging in his game console.

It was one-thirty. Five and a half hours until Ladybug would be off of work. Wherever she worked, that is… But that was none of his business. He shouldn't wonder about things that didn't involve him.

Adrien spent the remainder of his time alone playing a few video games, unpacking the rest of his boxes that still loitered in his room, and ringing up Nino on a video call, who apparently had the day off and was perfectly fine with spending his morning talking to his best friend.

Being nine hours ahead of California made talking with him difficult, but Adrien made do. Especially when Nino was going to become a father within the next seven months—they could use all the time they could get right now to see each other. Even if it was over a computer screen.

He woke up from an unintentional nap around six. As he sat up from his uncomfortable position on the couch, Adrien winced, rubbing at the back of his neck to ease the soreness and pressing his knuckles into his spine to give it a crack. Oof. He felt like he'd slept like a rock. Or on one, for that matter.

It was nice to be able to fall asleep during the day without worry, though; usually, at his childhood home someone was bound to wake him and usher him out of his bed to do something, whether it was model work or practicing piano or whatever other daily duties he'd been given on his schedule. But right now he was alone. In his apartment. And it was nice.

Still, he did feel bored. He'd already done everything he could find to do on his own for the day. Now all he could do was wait on Ladybug to return.

...Who was probably going to be both tired and hungry when she arrived home after working a nine hour shift.

"I should make dinner," he said, sitting up suddenly. "Plagg, I should make Ladybug dinner."

Plagg yawned in annoyance from his spot on the opposite end of the couch, where he too had fallen asleep. "You don't know how to cook."

"No," Adrien agreed. "But Nino did give me a bunch of recipes. I could use one of those."

Plagg simply stretched out his legs and rolled his eyes. "Good luck, loverboy."

Well, he hadn't burnt anything. Or caught the apartment on fire. Those were two upsides to, uh… Whatever he had made.

It was pasta with an Alfredo sauce that Nino had given him instructions how to make over the phone when he'd called him for the third time that day, panicking over what he should cook. It had broccoli mixed in it, and as Adrien took a bite to test the flavor, he was pleasantly surprised to find how nice it tasted.

Huh. If recipes were that easy to follow, he'd surely be cooking for his Lady more often.

He had just finished setting the table as he heard the door unlock. Turning his head like an excited puppy, Adrien slipped on his mask a split-second before the door opened and grinned as he saw Ladybug walk through the door, kicking off her shoes as soon as she'd shut it behind her. She looked tired; her bun was a mess and falling out at the ends, and even with the mask he could see the bags that hung heavily underneath her eyes. Her blouse was untucked from her skirt on one side. She walked towards him with a weary slump.

Adrien felt for her. Her job must be pretty hard. He wondered if it would be wrong to ask her for a vague idea of what she did, just so he could make things easier for her when she got home. Maybe he'd give her a back massage, if she wanted it. Or he could even get a bath running for her. Whatever she needed to relax.

"What smells so good?" she asked through a yawn. Her voice was low and raspy; like she was about to fall asleep upright.

Adrien pulled out a chair for her at the table. "I tried cooking."

He beamed at the way Ladybug's face lit up at the sight of food prepared for her. "You made this? For me?"

"Well, for us," he said, grinning sheepishly. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he grabbed a bottle of wine he'd picked up earlier from its holder above the fridge and poured them two glasses. "I think it tastes pretty good, but I don't really ever cook, so you'll have to be the judge of that."

"We'll see," Ladybug said. She sat at the table with a huff, her back practically melting into the seat. She used one of the other chairs at the table to prop her legs up. "I honestly don't even care how it tastes right now. I'm so hungry. I… Sort of forgot to eat lunch today."

Adrien frowned as he plated food for Ladybug and then himself. "What? Why?"

"Too busy," she said. "I had a lot of deadlines to meet that my boss is really strict about. He's kind of an ass."

He felt a blush tinge his cheeks as she reached up to let her hair down. Black tresses cascaded over her freckled shoulders; Adrien had to resist the urge to think about kissing the milky patches of skin where they lie.

"Buginette, please take care of yourself. I care about you." He frowned at what she'd told him. Her boss sounded like a dickhead. Sliding her plate towards her, Adrien said, "Here, eat up. You need it. And then we can have dessert."

"Dessert?" Ladybug's eyes met his as she twirled the noodles around her fork. "What did you get?"

Adrien stilled. He scratched at the hairs on the nape of his neck and pointedly avoided his partner's gaze. "...Stuff."

Ladybug paused her movements, the fork that held the bite she was about to take resting back on her plate. "Stuff…?"

He instinctively glanced to the pantry.

"Chat," Ladybug sighed, hands reaching forward to rub at her temples. "What did you buy today?"

Adrien was beginning to sweat. "Now, Ladybug," he said, a wobbly smile appearing on his face. "You know I'd never lie to you…"

The look Ladybug regarded him with was flat.

Adrien froze as she stood from her chair. His eyes widened as she approached the pantry, and he felt like he was about to have a damn heart attack when she opened up the cabinets and the same bag of Doritos he'd told himself he didn't need fell out onto the counter, as well as the bags of popcorn and the package of Oreos and the Pop-Tarts and oh, god, he'd really overstuffed the pantry.

...Shit.

Ladybug was quiet.

Too quiet.

After a moment of deafening silence, his partner sighed, shut the cabinet, and placed her head in her palms.

"...Okay," he said, standing from his chair with his hands hovering over her shoulders. "I know you're probably mad, but—"

"You're so funny," Ladybug said. Laughed. Her voice wavered and her body shook as she burst into a fit of chortles. "You're so- oh my god, Chat Noir. This is- I don't- why?"

Though he couldn't say he wasn't surprised by his Lady's reaction, her laughter was ultimately contagious as he joined in on her giggles. It went on for what seemed like ages; Adrien clutched his stomach as his muscles began to hurt from the constant strain. His fingers curled around the edge of the counter to steady himself before he lost his breath and toppled over to the floor. Ladybug's legs wobbled—his hands went to her waist as she nearly lost her balance.

"You idiot," she wheezed as she stood upright. "Why would you get all that stuff?"

"I have no self control!" he said, wiping his eyes from the tears that had began to form from his laughter. "I saw all the good stuff and I dunno, I panicked. I wanted it all and I couldn't stop myself."

"You're so—" Ladybug gave him a friendly jab on the shoulder. "You're so silly."

Adrien smirked, sitting back down at the table. "Oh, come on. You know that's the best thing about me."

With a roll of her eyes, Ladybug ruffled his hair and made her way to the refrigerator. "Why would you buy all that stuff when we still have this cake?"

"Cake?" Adrien asked. He swallowed a bite of his food.

"The strawberry one in our fridge from my parents?" Ladybug reminded him. She lifted the box to show him, the golden T&S logo shining in the light of the kitchen. "You had a piece this morning."

Oh. Oh. Ohhhhhhh.

Oh… Oh, wait. Wait- fuck. Fuck? What?

"Strawberry cake…?" he breathed. His thoughts were beginning to scramble as he rose another forkful of pasta to his lips.

"Yeah. I'm surprised you don't remember." She put the box back in the fridge, head momentarily disappearing behind the door before she shut it and sat back at the table. "You know, strawberry has always been my favorite flavor, especially in cakes."

Adrien nearly choked on his food.

Chapter Text

It took Adrien a moment to breathe again.

What had Ladybug said? Something about strawberry and cakes?

The back of his throat burned from the strain of coughing. That noodle had really fought its way down his windpipe. Dabbing at his eyes with a napkin—which had watered as soon as he'd began choking on his dinner—Adrien breathed in, his chest fluttering as he came back down from his state of near-death.

(Okay, so he hadn't nearly died. But where's the fun in not being dramatic?)

His head pounded. He couldn't even remember what had been going on before he'd lost the ability to take air in like a normal person.

"Are you alright?" Ladybug asked from across the table, blue eyes wide and hand outstretched in a curious motion. "Do you need some water?"

Adrien swallowed painfully. "Fine," he wheezed. "I'm fine. I just, uh"—oh, man, his mind was a mess—"I kind of breathed in wrong and then everything went bad."

Strawberry. Her favorite flavor was strawberry… Especially in cakes… Hadn't he heard that somewhere before? Isn't that what Marinette's parents had said? No, they had said vanilla—or had that been what he'd said? He didn't know.

Maybe it was just a coincidence. A really weird coincidence.

It had been such a long day.

"Let me get you a drink." Ladybug stood from the table without a word, her bare feet padding across the wooden floor as she made her way to the kitchen sink. She grabbed a cup from one of the cabinets and poured him a glass of water. Her expression was tight with concern as she returned to his side, one of her hands rubbing his shoulder in slow, soothing circles while the other offered him the beverage.

Her fingernails were painted pink.

Turning his eyes away from that minor detail, Adrien took the cup without a moment of hesitation. The drink felt cool as he downed it.

Didn't someone else he knew always have pink-painted fingernails…?

"Thanks, Buginette," he said hoarsely, throwing her a smile. "I don't know what happened back there."

He really didn't.

They finished their dinner without commotion. Ladybug was pleasantly surprised with how tasty the meal he'd prepared was; Adrien couldn't stifle his laugh when her face had visibly brightened in excitement, eyes blown wide and lips parted in a smile. The wine from their glasses had been drained, the glow of the sun faded from the windows and gave way to the yellow lights of the city, and it was with a yawn that his partner closed the curtains around the apartment as he washed the dishes.

"Do you want me to start a bath for you?" Adrien asked as he watched her slump onto the couch, exhaustion clear in the bags underneath her eyes. He stacked the clean plates in their designated cabinet. "Or do you want me to just let you sleep?"

"It's only eight-fifteen," she said. Her arms rested on the back of the couch, eyes drooping as she fought the urge to drift off into slumber. "I can't go to bed yet."

He dried his hands before turning off the kitchen light. "Why not?"

"It's too early."

"So?"

"I don't want to sleep yet," Ladybug said, though her eyelids were shut and her voice held a weary tone. "I just got home. I want to play a game or read a book or something, not go to bed."

A game, she said? Well, he could help with that. It's not like he owned hundreds of video games or anything…

(Deep within his mind a memory of his friends during lycée poked at his gut, causing him to think—for just a moment—about all those times Marinette had wiped the floor with him and the others because of her substantial skills in gaming. He'd never been able to beat her, no matter how he had tried. Hours and hours they had spent lazing on her family's couch, stuffing their faces with chips and cookies into the wee hours of the morning, playing match after match…

But that was a thought for another time. Right?)

Shaking the idea from his mind, Adrien sat next to Ladybug on the couch. The cushions bounced with his sudden weight. "Then let's play a game," he offered. "I brought all of mine from home. What do you want to play? I've got all three Mecha Strikes, racing games, shooter games, flying games, and even farming games. Your pick."

A laugh rose from his partner, confident and cocky. "You could never beat me in any of the Mecha Strike games."

Something stirred within him.

"Is that a challenge, my Lady?" he goaded. His eyebrows wiggled up and down as he nudged her side. "Because if you're challenging me, I say we make it a bet."

"Oh, yeah?" Ladybug's expression was nothing but pure self-assurance. There was a familiar gleam in her eye, one he'd seen somewhere before… At least, he thought so… "I'd like to see you try, kitty-boy. Best two out of three?"

Adrien smirked and stood, grabbing the third version of the Ultimate Mecha Strike series and popping it in his game system before handing his Lady a controller. "You're on. What do you want if you win?"

Tapping her chin, Ladybug pondered for a moment before snapping her fingers. "You have to make dinner all week. You could use the practice."

"Hey!" he laughed at her comment. "I thought I did good, tonight."

She crossed her arms with a grin. "Oh, you did. But that doesn't mean you can't do better."

"Alright, Miss Bossypants," he said. "Fine. If you win, I'll make dinner every night for the next week. But it's not my fault if I burn this place down."

With a playful roll of her eyes, Ladybug asked, "What do you want if, for some unfathomable reason, you win?"

There was no hesitation on his part. "A smooch."

"I'm not kissing you."

Ah, well. He knew that was a little far-fetched, even if he was joking, anyway. Still, it didn't stop his insides from wilting a little bit.

"Then…" he hummed, mulling it over. "How about you bake me some cookies?"

Ladybug snorted with laughter. "Do you not remember all the snacks you bought today?"

"Oh, right." He scratched at the nape of his neck. "Okay, I know what I want, and you can't say no to this one. Deal?"

"That depends on what it is," Ladybug said, lips curling upward as she stretched her legs out on the couch.

Adrien turned to face her once their game started up. "I want you to watch an hour of cat videos with me."

"Oh, my god."

"I'm serious."

"I know," Ladybug laughed. "You know what? Fine. Now get up here so we can play."

He complied without a complaint. Ladybug's legs rested atop his thighs as she got comfortable on her side, and Adrien took notice that her toenails were painted in the same shade of pastel pink that decorated the tips of her fingers. A grin graced his lips; he almost felt bad that he was going to beat her in every match of their game.

(If she wasn't the girl he was beginning to suspect she was.)

"Prepare to be destroyed," he said, selecting the cat-themed robot on the character screen. "I'll have you know that I've never been beaten by more than one person at this game, Buginette. So good luck."

Ladybug blew her fringe out of her face as she rolled her eyes, choosing the ladybug-spotted robot as her own. "Well, now that number is going to become two. Just don't cry too hard when you lose every match, okay?"

"No promises," Adrien laughed.

He quickly learned that Ladybug did not fuck around when it came to video games. In three matches that each had three rounds, he was pummeled into the ground by her stellar moves and expert handling of the controller. She mashed buttons like a pro, her tongue poking out of her perfectly rosy lips and her shoulders scrunching when she made just the right move. She had won every game. Every single game… With mannerisms that were so alike someone else he knew, he almost caught himself saying her name.

Her name.

(Almost.)

"I won!" she exclaimed as her name came up as the winner for the final match. Her hands rose into the air with her victorious shout. "So, who's making dinner all week, now?"

Giving a good-humored roll of his eyes, Adrien pointed his thumb towards himself. "This cat."

"That's right," she said. "But, hey, if you manage to win just one round, I'll watch some cat videos with you."

"An hour of cat videos?"

"No. Just a few," Ladybug laughed. She shook her head, re-adjusting her position so that she was lying on her back. She looked really cute like that, relaxing there with her head propped up on one of the throw pillows, black hair spilling over the arm of the couch, the collar of her blouse rumpled and the top two buttons undone…

(He glanced away before he could take notice of the blue lace of her brassiere that was just barely peeking up from the thin fabric of her shirt, his cheeks heating with shame that he'd even let his eyes wander.)

"Fine," he replied after a moment too long, his gaze focused on the floor, "Let's keep playing, then. I'm getting those cat videos no matter what."

A snort of disbelief rose from his partner. "Oh, we'll see."

By the end of the fourth match, her confidence was spilling over in waves, and when she'd won her fifth, sixth, and even seventh round, Adrien had given up. He thumped his head against the back of the couch with a sigh. Despite his losses, he still wore a smile on his face. "What did you say about not crying too hard when I lose?"

"Don't tell me you're about to cry, Chaton." Ladybug placed her controller on her stomach as she blinked up at him through her lashes. "I'll have to go buy tissues."

Considering he really was a little disappointed his Lady wasn't going to watch funny cat videos with him, Adrien upped the dramatic flair, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead as he let out a long whine. "I'm so hurt," he faux-cried. "Oh, I'm moving out. I can't deal with this kind of abuse. I'm wounded, truly! Do you hear that? That's the sound of my heart breaking."

"Chat Noir," Ladybug sighed, sounding fonder than she should have at that moment. "You are the most impossible—"

"Um, you mean impawssible—"

"—impossible," she corrected, mirth in her tone as she continued, "person to play video games with. If you're gonna whine because I happen to be better than you at fighting giant robots—"

"I call a rematch!"

"We've had seven rematches, kitty."

"One more," he pleaded. His head rolled to the side as he gazed at her with an exceptionally cute gleam in his eyes. "Just one more game. C'mon, Buginette, aren't you having fun?"

He saw her try (and fail) to resist the smile that spread across her face. She flipped her hair back over her shoulders, hands clasping the edges of the controller and legs crossing over his own as she settled back into the couch. Her eyes gleamed with determination. "One more. Then I'm taking a bath and going to bed."

"It's a deal."

The one round came and went within minutes. Ladybug, the reigning champion of the evening, had ceremoniously defeated him with every match they'd played, but even after Adrien lost the eighth, he still had faith in himself. They played a ninth, and tenth, and even an eleventh until the clock struck fifteen minutes shy of eleven-thirty and they were both exhausted from devoting all their remaining energy into their heated robot battles.

He'd managed to win one match. Just one. But that was enough to salvage his self-confidence for the night.

Adrien ran his hands down his face as they finally (finally) shut down the game. "You've trained with professionals."

"I am the professional," she quipped. The smirk she displayed was a challenge in itself. Sitting up (and removing her legs from his lap), Ladybug stretched her arms out in front of her with a crack of her knuckles, hands going to her back afterwards to rub it with an added wince.

"Rough day?"

"Huh?"

"You're exhausted," he said. He scooted closer to press his hand into her spine with a gentle movement. "Are you sure you don't want to go to bed?"

Ladybug's shoulders slumped as she allowed herself to relax. "I do now. But my back is killing me from sitting at a damn desk all day long. I don't know if I'll be able to sleep."

A desk? Hmm… She must work in an office or something. Or if he wanted to get a little more specific, a designer's desk at his dad's work.

But that wasn't for him to know.

Nope, nope. Her identity was a secret—her secret—and he had no place to be wracking his mind for information.

(Even if she'd mentioned something about strawberries and cakes and it being her favorite flavor.)

"I'll be right back," she said as she stood, making her way towards the hall. "I've gotta take all this makeup off."

The rest of the night was uneventful.

After he'd nearly choked on his dinner, Adrien's head was full of thoughts nagging at his mind. The video games had helped distract him for a while, but now that he sat on the couch as he waited for Ladybug to finish in the bathroom, well…

His stomach was tying itself in knots.

He couldn't have figured it out, not this early. Not like that. He'd never wanted to discover her identity without her consent. They weren't supposed to know; they were supposed to have kept it a secret! That's what the rules were, what Plagg and Tikki had drilled into their heads since day one when she had been gifted the earrings and he'd slipped the ring on his finger for the first time.

Hands running down his face, Adrien sighed as he held his head in his palms.

A passing thought of Marinette at only fourteen years old returning to her bedroom to find a little red box containing a special kind of jewelry made his heart thump in his chest and oh, god, he couldn't have figured this out, not now, not when they'd just moved in together—

The feel of his partner's arms wrapping around his shoulders caused him to jump. Ladybug chuckled at his minor scare and apologized, but he still felt too- too weird to do much of anything else besides just sit there like a moron.

"I'm getting in the bath," she said, ruffling his hair as she made her way to the bathroom. "You going to bed?"

Adrien shook his head. His voice felt barely-there as he said, "No."

"Okay."

Tonight she'd thanked him for dinner; hugged him; told him she had appreciated what he'd done for her. And here he was thinking about who she was under the mask. It almost felt like he was betraying her a little bit… So he needed to stop. Right now.

The hours of the night had flown by like the buzz of Ladybug's yo-yo. As Adrien walked to his bedroom like a zombie and lay back on his bed, he thought of how soft her hands were, and how the touch of her skin to his own was so nice as he was enveloped in her arms was a memory he'd never forget.

While she soaked in the tub, all he could do was sit on his bed and think.

His mind had been a muddled mess since he'd woken up that morning. The voices—the familiar yet not so familiar voices—that had travelled throughout the apartment in the early hours had been haunting him, racing in his head and reminding him that he'd heard those voices before, somewhere… But where?

(He knew where. He knew, but he didn't want to admit it.)

This was confusing.

Ladybug's parents, the cake, the white blouse his partner wore that he'd sworn he'd seen somewhere before, it- it was all so- so confusing!

He tripped over his own feet as he attempted to put his pajama pants on. Grunting as he hit the floor with a thud, Adrien groaned, rubbing at his chin after it had collided with the wood. His temples throbbed with a piercing headache.

"Fuck," he cursed.

Ladybug called from the bathroom, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he responded as he came to a stand. His pants slipped on easily that time. "Just tripped."

"You tripped?" there was laughter in her tone. "On what?"

"Pants," he said. Despite himself, the corners of his lips cracked up into a smile.

The sound of the tub draining signaled that she'd be coming out in a minute. Adrien felt his heartbeat begin to quicken.

(Sudden anxiety would never be considered a friend of his.)

He didn't know what to think. One minute he had been enjoying a nice dinner with his Lady, and then she'd gone and…

No. This wasn't her fault. She had just been making conversation. It was him who was standing in his bedroom trying to figure out something that she didn't want him to know—something they weren't supposed to know at all.

He swallowed back his nerves and slipped a pajama shirt over his head. His eyes stayed trained on the floor as the sound of the bathroom door opening came from the hall, and even as he heard footsteps cross into the room opposite his, he didn't look. He didn't know if he could.

No, no, no. He needed to relax. Relaxing was good. It was all just a coincidence, right? Because there's no way they would go and mess things up this early. Not after only a day of living with each other. Not so soon… They had promised they wouldn't pry about each others identities. They had made a promise, and here he was going and breaking that—breaking Ladybug's trust.

This was too much.

He should have never stepped foot in that damn bakery this morning...

Throwing himself onto his bed, Adrien breathed out a heavy sigh. He draped his forearm over his eyes to shield the light that shined into his gaze. Man, his head was throbbing. Though normally he considered himself a night-owl—or night-cat, he supposed—he kind of wanted to turn into bed early just to end the day and rid his mind of frustration.

(But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. He would be up all night with his thoughts racing about Ladybug and her parents and Marinette—)

"Are you okay?"

Adrien lifted his arm away from his eyes before they landed on his partner standing in his doorway, her brows knit together in concern. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, and the dusting of freckles on her shoulders was prominent with the white spaghetti-strap nightgown she was wearing. It was short—just above her knees—which made Adrien glance away lest his eyes wandered.

(Though he knew he'd never let them.)

He cleared his throat before he spoke. "I'm fine," he said, sitting up against the headboard of his bed. "Just tired. It's been a long day."

Ladybug's lips turned upward into a smile. She stepped into his room and placed herself on the edge of his bed. "You, too?"

She'd had a long day? Well, that was far more important than how his went.

His attention was immediately captivated by her as he scooted closer, his feet hitting the chill of the floor once he was directly next to her. One of his hands rested on her shoulder (which was bare and warm and full of tiny little brown dots that looked like adorable galaxies as far as he was concerned.) He gave it a squeeze. "Want to talk about it?"

The blue eyes he'd come to love shone bright as she turned her head to face him. She tilted her head to the side; her hair smelled of strawberries.

Adrien had to swallow back the scream he wanted to emit because he wasn't thinking about that right now.

"I guess I could," Ladybug decided after a moment, and Adrien caught the way her gaze flicked down to his shirt for a moment before it met his. "Nice outfit, by the way." Her grin widened as she snorted in an attempt to hold back a laugh.

He looked down. His heart skipped a beat and his cheeks flushed.

This… Was not his proudest shirt. No, definitely not one he'd intended to put on when Ladybug was home. He had planned to keep this one secret. It was only in his dresser because he'd bought it for laughs, but he had been so out of it when he'd grabbed a pajama shirt that he hadn't even noticed that the Ladybug sitting next to him was the very same Ladybug that was covering his entire torso in an array of polka-dots and hearts.

"Now, come on," she said, voice wavering as she tried (and failed) to stop herself from laughing. "I thought I was the one that was supposed to be wearing the spots in this relationship."

Adrien shook his head, flashing his Lady a sheepish smile. "Well, now it's both of us."

"That's fine," Ladybug said. "Just don't come running to me when Plagg starts crying because you gave him up so easily."

The kwami's voice rose distantly from the kitchen as he shouted, "What!?"

"Nah, I'm not giving him up. I'll just ask him to redo the Chat Noir costume in red instead of all black," Adrien chuckled.

Ladybug straitened to retort, but she winced as one of her hands connected to her upper back. "Ugh," she groaned, the pleasant atmosphere of the room dulling. "Sorry, I just- It's my back. I love my job, but I can't stand sitting for eight hours straight. It's killing me."

With a tint of red to his cheeks, Adrien offered, "Need a back rub?"

Ladybug's responding smile was all the confirmation he needed.

She laid on her stomach over his sheets. The blush on his face remained as he sat between her legs and began to massage out the kinks in her spine. Like a cat kneading a blanket, he worked at her sore spots, focusing on a particular area every now and then as she let out soft, pleased hums that were like music to his ears. With every press of his fingers into her clothed skin, he smiled, and every time a mewl rose from her lips he thrived.

It felt nice to be able to help her like this, especially in their own apartment.

(Their own space. Alone. Together.

Even if he was between her legs while she was on his bed in a thin little nightgown—

Okay! That was enough.)

"B-better?" he asked, hoarse as he swallowed. His cheeks burned from the heat of his flush while his fingers worked.

Ladybug stretched her arms out in front of her, body adjusting and back arching as she became more comfortable. "Not quite," she sighed, eyes half-lidded, "there's a spot on my middle lower back that's been bothering me for days."

Middle… Lower back. Okay. Okay! This was fine. Everything was fine. He'd be okay. She wanted him to help her; needed him to. He wouldn't disappoint her by being too shy to touch his partner in a place he'd probably touched her before.

It was different now, though. During battles they had no fear of getting into each others personal space because they had to, but now, with the two of them alone in their own apartment, on top of his bed… with her nightgown riding up the back of her thighs...

"You're okay with that?" he asked, surprising himself.

Ladybug's response was a quiet laugh. "Why wouldn't I be? It's just my back, Chat Noir. No need to be so modest. It's not like you're touching my—" She cut herself off with a contented sigh as his hands began to work on the particular area that was bugging her. "Mhm. Right there."

His eyes widened as a sound that he could have sworn was a moan rose from his Lady.

Voice caught in his throat, Adrien wheezed, "H-how are you d-doing?"

Ladybug hummed. She turned her head to look up at him with those gorgeous eyes. "Much better. Thank you."

Was it fifty degrees hotter in here, or was that just him?

Squeezing his eyes shut to stop himself from thinking, Adrien massaged at her back with skilled hands, used to the motions of helping her de-stress. He'd given her plenty of massages before. This was nothing new to him. Though normally they were suited up outside on top of buildings in public, not alone in their pajamas in his bedroom. It was a little hard to contain his inner embarrassment.

He worked at her kinks for a while. An inkling of concern began to rise in his chest when she went completely silent save for the gentle rise and fall of her back that signaled she was at least alive, much to his relief, but as he called her name, there was no response.

"Ladybug?" he tried again.

Nothing.

Leaning over to get a glimpse of her face, Adrien's lips quirked upward as he noticed his partner had fallen fast asleep.

"I suppose that's a job well done, then," he whispered, unable to suppress his grin. He got off of the bed—careful not to stir the sleeping beauty—and pulled his blanket over her before switching off the light and walking out of the room. It's a shame he wasn't anywhere near tired yet. He wouldn't have minded lying next to his Lady for a while…

But she needed her rest. He'd let her stay there as long as she wanted. Even if she slept there all night, he would stay on the couch so she could have all the room she wanted.

(He only hoped his bed was comfortable enough for her.)

The apartment was a bit of a mess after his frantic cooking earlier. It was time to clean up, Adrien decided, thankful he'd already done the dishes and could now work on making the rest of the place look bright and beautiful, much like the girl who lay in his bed.

He wiped off the countertops in the kitchen, fixed the placemats on the dining table, pushed in the chairs and tidied up the living room. There were a few things he'd left on the floor while unpacking earlier, like a couple socks and books, so he set them to the side to put away tomorrow instead of placing them in his room, just to be sure he wouldn't wake Ladybug.

The television they'd left on was turned off, the remote sitting in front of it on the coffee table. In his hands Adrien held a blanket that he'd grabbed from the hall closet, and as he shut off every light in the apartment and settled onto the couch, he sighed. The moon was shining brightly behind him, even through the white curtains that hung in front of the window.

The blue light of his phone screen caused him to squint as he checked the time. It was past midnight—definitely late enough to get some sleep. But, still… His thoughts nagged at him, and his stomach felt so twisted and wrong that Adrien knew getting an ounce of shut-eye tonight would be hard to come by. It'd be a blessing just to take a nap.

...Was he avoiding the elephant in the room?

"Turn that light off," Plagg 's voice rang from the opposite end of the couch. Adrien laid his phone screen-side down on his chest, taking notice of the two kwamis snuggled up together on top of a throw pillow. "It hurts my eyes."

He felt himself smile at the sight. "Sorry, Plagg. I'm just having a lot of trouble relaxing."

Plagg wasn't the one who responded.

"Why?" Tikki asked. She lifted her head from its spot on the pillow. "Not tired?"

The chuckle he emitted was devoid of humor. "You could say that."

Nudging the kwami at her side, Tikki said to Plagg, "Why don't you take him for a run? That usually helps my Ladybug calm down when she can't sleep."

A grumble rose from the lump of black fur on the couch.

"Plagg, help the boy out," she sighed.

No response.

Tikki frowned. "Please? For me?"

"Ugh, fine," he hissed, stretching out his front legs, his tail twitching as he yawned. He paused a moment to clean his whiskers and scratch at the back of his head with his leg. "But let's make it quick, okay? You may not be tired, Chat Noir, but I am."

So, Adrien found himself slipping out the window of his bedroom clad in his transformation, careful not to disturb his sleeping partner even as he shut the glass behind him. He used his baton to leap from rooftop to rooftop, masterfully scaling the sides of buildings with his claws, his heart racing in his chest and his mind silent for once as he felt the city air fill his lungs and course through his veins. The night was cool, refreshing; like a bucket of cold water that had been tossed upon him to startle his thoughts.

Adrien felt at peace like this. With his boots clicking on the paneled roofing of the city's apartments he felt free, like a bird whose wings had never been clipped, or a cat who had never known the feel of a collar. No, he didn't belong to anyone—the city was his and his alone at this moment, and he'd never felt more at home.

(Except, of course, when he had first set his foot in his and Ladybug's apartment. That felt more like home than any place ever could.)

Oh, Ladybug… She was giving him quite a bit to think about, wasn't she?

He hadn't spoken to Marinette in person in a few days. The last he had seen her was at work, when she had rushed in to fix a torn pocket on a vest that was about to be photographed, and she had been so frazzled from the amount of deadlines she had to meet that he'd barely gotten a word out of her. Just a promise to get together for lunch again another time, and that was all.

But this morning…

This morning he had entered her parent's bakery and then everything had become a mess from there. He was so stupid, he never should have—

Frustrated with himself, Adrien gave the chimney pot he stood next to a swift punch, feeling the negativity bleed out of him in the form of dented metal. At least the old chimneys were no longer useful—then he might have had an angry citizen to deal with.

Ah, well. At least the suit granted him an extra layer of protection so the meager amount of pain that rose from his knuckles didn't bother him. Instead, relief welcomed him as he vaulted himself away from the rooftop he'd previously stood upon, internally deciding to just keep running until he couldn't anymore.

Whenever that would be.

Adrien's head pounded by the time he began to make his way back. He knew he had to come to terms with what was going on—even if he didn't want to.

So, Marinette could be Ladybug. Alright. There. He'd said it. He had.

There was a high chance Marinette was Ladybug and he was living with her and he had slept next to her last night and oh man he had practically been on top of Marinette—Marinette—while he'd massaged her back and wow, okay, that also meant Mari had been Ladybug since the beginning, which means he'd fallen for her first before he'd fallen for her in lycée and never found the courage to admit anything before the crush had faded and- and-

His feet shuffled awkwardly on the gravel of the teashop roof across their apartment complex, and his heart threatened to leap out of his ribcage. Adrien had to cup a clawed hand to his chest to calm its frantic racing.

"Okay, okay," he breathed. He squeezed his eyes shut as the light of the moon bathed his suit in white. "Okay."

Ladybug's secret identity was Marinette. Her secret identity that he wasn't supposed to know. She was Marinette. Marinette, his first friend, his old crush from lycée, and the girl he'd stopped talking to for five months after they'd both gotten a little too drunk at a Christmas party. Marinette was also the girl that he had a little bit of a soft spot for still even after graduation, and she was his ever-so talented coworker who many (like himself) depended on to make their day bright.

Oh, hell.

Marinette was Ladybug. Ladybug was Marinette. Marinette was—

...Was walking into the late-night teashop below him, hair tied up in a bun and a sweater over her shoulders, very much not in his bed right now where he thought she was.

"...Mari?" he whispered to himself as he watched her sit down at a table outside and begin fiddling with her phone, cup of steaming tea in hand.

So… If Marinette was down there, and Ladybug was up in their apartment safely snuggled away in his bed… Then that must mean he was wrong. That he'd been overreacting the whole time, overthinking the entire situation.

Because it really was just a simple coincidence, right?

Anybody can like strawberry cakes.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Still, he wasn't sure if he was entirely convinced. Though Adrien knew it would be weird for his friend to see Chat Noir of all people coming down to greet her, he couldn't help but want answers. Especially since he really didn't want to have discovered his partner's identity without her consent.

(Though, admittedly a faint disappointment nagged at the pit of his stomach and made him feel sad. If Marinette had been Ladybug, man, he'd… He would have been the happiest guy on the planet.)

But he couldn't dwell on that.

He watched. Waited. His tail twitched as Marinette took a sip of her tea and jolted backwards as if her tongue had been burned.

The laugh that rose from his lips couldn't have been suppressed.

So, without waiting any longer, he leaped down to say hello.

When she had woken up, Chat Noir was gone.

It was startling, really, to rise up from his covers in the dark with her arms outstretched in search of a warm body to hug only to find that the other side of his bed was cold and empty. Marinette's heart had ached for a moment—just one—before she'd called his name.

It was eerie to receive no reply.

He had been there just a little while ago, clad in his pajamas and placed behind her on his bed with his fingers working at her sore spots. Her peace at the hands of her partner had caused her to fall asleep. She hadn't expected to drift off so easily, but she had been so tired, and he had made her feel so relaxed…

She couldn't sleep not knowing where he had gone.

Dragging her fatigued body out of his bed, she wandered out into the kitchen for a glass of water to refresh her parched lips, eyes scanning the dark room in search of her kwami. She found her curled up on the couch, Plagg absent from the apartment—which made Marinette realize that her partner must have transformed and was out god knows where at this hour.

She considered transforming herself, but decided that she would rather let Tikki save her energy and grab something hot to drink to help her rest.

If Chat Noir wanted to go out, fine. That was his business. Even if she was a little concerned that he had left without warning.

At least with a brief check of her phone she confirmed there were no akumas attacking. That allowed her nerves to calm, even if a little bit.

Marinette threw on a sweater and some leggings before she crouched down next to Tikki by the couch. "Hey," she whispered in the dark. "Want to go get some tea with me?"

The squeaky yawn Tikki let out was adorable, to say the least. "Sure, Marinette."

Her keys jingled in her hand as she locked their place up.

Once down the elevator and outside, Marinette shivered at the brisk night air, wishing for the heat of summer to return. Cars rolled down the street beside her, and across the road the faint yellow glow from the teashop's windows cast over her, enveloping her in a warmth that pulled her closer to its doors.

Thank goodness this place was open so late.

After she'd ordered herself some tea (and grabbed a straw for Tikki to sip from), Marinette sat herself outside at one of the iron wicker tables, her pink-painted fingernails lazily tracing circles into the ceramic cup as she waited for it to cool.

A breeze blew through the air. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blinked.

Her phone buzzed beside her with a text from Alya, but Marinette avoided checking lest she notice the time. She didn't want to know how late it was—she had to work the next morning, and knowing if it was past midnight would only cause her stress to increase in magnitude.

So, without bothering to even glance at her phone, she boldly sipped at her tea—only to recoil at the temperature, her tongue burning from the fierce heat of her drink.

(She could have sworn she'd heard someone laugh, but she was too tired to care.)

It was too late for anything. Marinette sighed, resting her head in her palm as she closed her eyes. She should have just stayed in bed and waited on her partner to get home instead of worrying, but…

The familiar thud of metal-tipped boots caused her to blink open her eyes in surprise. Her drink sloshed in her cup as she startled.

"Chat Noir?" she breathed, surprised to find her partner standing in front of her at the damn teashop across the street from their apartment, of all places. Especially when she wasn't transformed. "Wh-what are you, uh…"

"Doing here?" he supplied, shrugging his armored shoulders with a sheepish grin across his face. "Couldn't sleep. Mind if I pull up a chair?"

Marinette shook her head, still a little breathless from his sudden appearance. "No, no, uh… Go ahead. I don't mind at all."

So he sat. And things were awkwardly quiet.

After a few moments too long to be comfortable, Chat Noir cleared his throat and asked, "What about you?"

Marinette paused as she cautiously sipped at her tea. "Huh?"

"Why are you up?"

"Oh." She set her cup down as she swallowed, eyes falling to the brown liquid that swirled lazily in its hold. "I couldn't sleep, either."

Chat Noir rested his head on his forearms. His eyelids drooped as he gazed at her cup. "That's a shame," he said. The moonlight shone brightly off of his halo of golden hair. "I'm at that point where I'm tired, but I just can't sleep."

Taking another drink of her tea, Marinette asked, "Why's that?"

"Too much on my mind." He didn't meet her eye as he spoke.

Oh. Well… What in the world could be bothering him? They had only just moved in together. It surely couldn't have been something she did, right?

Marinette swallowed her tea a little thicker that time.

"Like what?" she asked.

Chat Noir breathed out a sigh, his shoulders rising and falling with the gentle release of his breath. "I thought I found out something I shouldn't know, and it was making me feel pretty awful. Not because of what I found out, but because I wasn't supposed to know it. But now I realize that I was just being ridiculous and I was wrong the whole time, anyway."

"Oh," she said. Her voice was quieter than she would have liked, her mind trying to piece together what exactly he'd meant and whether or not it concerned her superhero identity. "Well, whatever it was—" she paused to finish her tea, "—I'm sure it wasn't ridiculous. We all have our reasons to worry. Even if the worries can get a little out of hand."

The grin that graced his face made her smile in turn. "I guess you're right."

The sound of music from down the street filled the air, and the scent of her tea remained.

Things were quiet. A good quiet. It was surely past midnight and most civilians were tucked away in bed, leaving the city in a sleepy sort of silence save for the faint noise of parties and bars.

She felt nice. As she watched the blinking lights of a plane fly above, Marinette finally began to feel herself relax.

"Well," she said, pushing her chair back with a smile once she'd stood, "I guess I'd better be getting back home. It is pretty late, isn't it?"

"It's nearly one-thirty in the morning," Chat Noir said, much to Marinette's chagrin. "Goodnight, Mari."

She momentarily froze at the familiar nickname before brushing it off as a simple mistake on her end. It was too late in the night; she was just hearing things. "Goodnight, Chat Noir."

He smiled at her before she left. Just to be sure he wouldn't discover her by watching her walk into their complex, she turned and headed down the sidewalk instead of crossing the street, glancing behind her shoulder after a moment to be sure he was gone. Then, she ducked behind an alleyway and transformed, quickly flinging herself up to the sixth floor and through his bedroom window, where she slipped her mask on and practically tossed her pajamas back on her body after she'd thrown her other clothes across the hall into her own bedroom.

She was back in his bed just as the digital clock on his nightstand struck one-thirty-five.

Her eyes felt like stones. It was too late—or, well early—for her to be awake. She had never considered herself a night person, not when growing up in a bakery. The latest she ever woke up was nine.

Chat Noir wasn't back for a while. Marinette did her best to stay awake as long as she could, really, but she was just so tired. It had been such a long day and she had only gotten a little bit of sleep before her partner's absence had startled her.

She didn't expect him to be gone for so long. So much for rushing to get back in bed, it seemed. Where was he?

Sleep was easily beginning to take hold of her. It would be so nice to get some rest…

Opening her heavy eyes was a chore. She just… Couldn't stay awake anymore…

She had drifted off before she felt the familiar weight of her partner settle beside her.

"You're back," she breathed, voice raspy from lack of sleep and a yawn forcing its way out of her body. "Where'd you go?"

His voice came from behind her, as her back was facing him. "Out for a stroll. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Yeah," she said. Her hair fell in her face as she turned her body to face him. "But that's okay."

He yawned in response to her own. "Sorry, 'Bug. I just needed to go for a run."

"Why?"

"A lot on my mind."

Marinette's eyes fell closed again. "Like what?"

"Don't worry about it, my Lady," he said, his voice full of nothing but love and care for herself. "You need to get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

"Do you want me to move to my bed?" She scooted closer to him even after she asked, hoping her would say no because god damn was his bed comfortable. He must own a memory foam mattress or something, the rich bastard…

"No," he replied. "I mean, no, you don't have to, but… You can if you'd like to."

She hummed in thought. Marinette could feel how soft his skin was as she placed her head on his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his warmth.

...Nah. Too comfortable.

"I'll stay," she whispered. "I'll stay."

As his arm wrapped around her waist, Marinette could have sworn that she'd never felt more at home.

Chapter Text

The first month flew by like a breeze in the summer air.

Things had been going smoothly, more or less. So far there hadn't been any hiccups—at least not any Marinette could remember—and while they were both away at work most of the time with schedules that didn't line up, she found herself immensely enjoying everything that came with living with a friend.

Being roommates with someone like Chat Noir—whose bedroom happened to be right across her own—made life a lot more interesting to say the least. Perhaps a little too interesting at times.

"Interesting" like forcing herself out of her bed to convince him to go to sleep at a reasonable hour instead of two in the morning, or teaching him how to put a clean sheet on his mattress like he was some sort of idiot. There were times where she had to tell him to shut up because he was on the phone while she was trying to rest and others, when it was early in the morning and she had risen for work before dawn with her alarm blaring, he would drag his half-asleep body across the hall—clad proudly in his Ladybug pajamas—and turn it off himself with a slap of his hand and an irritated grunt.

...But she digressed.

Things had been going well.

Marinette woke up before him in the mornings and was already at work by the time he rose out of bed, and while she got home earlier in the evenings, Chat Noir was usually gone until the sun had long past set. During workweeks they seldom saw each other except to have dinner and say goodnight, and though it worked for them, Marinette did find herself feeling a tad lonely every now and then. Well… Maybe more than a tad.

If she was being honest with herself, she missed him being home. Some days they only saw each other during the occasional akuma attack, and even then they couldn't talk. All they could manage was to defeat the latest villain and go back to their jobs.

It sucked to be apart from him after she'd only recently became used to seeing him every day. It had always been like this before, sure, but… Now that they lived together, she longed for his presence more than she ever thought she would.

(Only because she was accustomed to having him around. Not for any other reason, of course.)

As orange sunlight began trickling down the sidewalk, Marinette noticed it was getting late—nearing eight o' clock—and the city was beginning to calm. Walking down the street with her laundry basket pressed firmly against her hip, she let her eyes wander, gaze following the setting sun, a sigh blowing her fringe from her forehead at the way it cast a purple-hued shadow over the sides of buildings. How pretty of a sight it was; a reminder of how she and Chat Noir used to patrol as kids, heading out just as the sun began to descend behind the city's horizon and going their separate ways once it hit ten. Back then, they both were still in school, so the late nights they spent together didn't become a usual rendezvous until after they had graduated lycée.

With the sun beating on her back, Marinette's heart swelled in her chest as she passed the place they first met. Those were different times, when her clumsiness had gotten the better of her and she'd ended up tangled around her new partner, feelings of friendship blossoming from the moment they put their feet back on the ground.

For a moment it hit her hard, knowing that it was such a long time ago—seven years, in fact—and warmth spread in her chest just from the thought alone. It was a sentimental feeling; one that made the corners of her lips turn upward into a grin. Her eyes trailed the rooftops as if she expected Chat to pop his head out any second, eyes bright with a playful greeting and an invitation to join him for a moonlit stroll through the weaving chimney pots.

It was so different when they were kids. Her eyes fell from the building toward her feet.

Wow, she really did miss him these days… Especially when she got caught up at work and stayed overtime. It didn't feel right to go to bed in an empty apartment without his laughter filling the rooms, and it certainly felt weird to fall asleep without telling him goodnight… But he mentioned he was getting time off soon. It was just a busy season—whatever that meant for wherever he worked—so hopefully they would be able to hang out again within the next month.

(Maybe they could even take that camping trip they had joked about. But, she had a job to worry about too, and with the summer line coming up in just a few weeks, she knew getting a minute of free time was damn near impossible.)

A stray pebble bounced down the sidewalk as she kicked it. Being a responsible adult sucks, she thought bitterly.

Heaving a sigh, Marinette held her laundry basket in both hands as the door to the laundromat closed behind her, its bell ringing in a way that reminded her of her partner's suit. She smiled softly at the sound.

Inside, it was at an evening lull. Ttwo other people meandered around the machines, watching their clothes spin to their heart's content while they waited, looking awfully bored. There was another woman about her age standing with her hands on her hips in front of a washer, and an older man having a bit of trouble staying awake as his clothes dried.

Laundromats weren't supposed to be fun. What with all the standing around for two or three hours waiting on loads of clothing to finish their cleaning, Marinette had come to dislike her weekly visits. She longed for the days where she would have a laundry room at home, able to sit on her couch and pass the time by playing video games or filling her sketchbook. Now, she had to sit in hard plastic chairs surrounded by strangers, which made her especially uncomfortable when it came to washing her undergarments.

But it couldn't be helped. Clothes needed to be cleaned, after all.

Setting her basket on the floor next to the wall of washing machines, she pulled out a few fifty-cent coins from her purse and popped them in their designated slot, feeling the evening sunlight warm her side as it streamed in through the large glass windows at the front. She watched her clothes spin around in the washer with a blank expression upon her face. It really wasn't until times like this she found herself missing the ease of having her own washer and dryer at home.

When the heat of the sun began to bake her bare legs, Marinette knew she was going to be here a while.

She was bored. Too bored.

Fiddling with her phone to pass the time, she sat on one of the plastic chairs that were placed in rows of four, her leg jiggling mindlessly as strands of her hair began to fall from her ponytail and into her face from the heat. Summer had surely settled into the city by now, and with a quick scan of the room, Marinette could tell it was already beginning to affect the citizens of Paris.

The few people that mingled in the laundromat were in shorts and T-shirts, and the girl in the corner was in nothing but a sports bra and athletic bottoms. Hell, even Marinette herself was in a halter top and faded jean shorts, wiping her brow as the heat from the dryers combined with the sun shining from the window began to cause her to sweat.

She could really go for some lemonade right about now…

The bell to the laundromat chimed. Marinette didn't bother looking up from her phone.

She heard the stranger shuffle around the machines, their movements quiet save for the sound of clothes being mechanically washed and the faint music on the radio that played above, and Marinette pressed a hand to her mouth as she let out a yawn.

It was already eight-thirty. She wondered if Chat Noir had arrived home yet. If he had, she knew he'd probably take a shower and grab some dinner—some leftovers or fast food (which he ate far too often), since he still wasn't all that great of a cook—before settling down on the couch for the night in his pajamas with his macbook on his lap.

Marinette wanted to go home, too. She had only gotten off of work an hour ago, having stayed late to help a coworker finish stitching a dress, and had rushed off to the laundromat as soon as she had grabbed her basket from home.

She briefly wondered if Chat was worrying about why she wasn't home yet. Oh, she hoped he wouldn't wait up for her… Having each others phone numbers or a texting app would be great for situations like this, wouldn't it?

"Marinette?"

Startled from the sound of his voice, she dropped her phone from her hands, watching as it plummeted to the tile floor screen-face down. A noise of despair immediately rose from her throat. As she went to grab it, her fingers brushed along someone's knuckles and her eyes flicked upward to meet those of her friend and coworker, Adrien Agreste.

Marinette swallowed.

"I am so sorry," Adrien said, holding out her cracked phone with an apologetic look in his eyes, "I'll pay to get that fixed. I promise."

Too tired to argue, Marinette sighed, her lips stretching into a thankful (yet weary) smile. "It's, uh- it's okay." She glanced up from her phone to find him scratching at the back of his head, his eyes refusing to meet her own. "So, uh… What are you doing here?"

"Me?" he asked, voice cracking as one of his eyebrows quirked up in amusement. "I'm doing laundry."

Oh. Well, that should have been obvious from the basket of dirty clothes by his feet and the way he was donned in nothing but sweatpants and a T-shirt.

"Right," she said, looking up as her clothes finished their wash cycle. She stood from the chair and popped a coin into a dryer at the end of the line. "No clean clothes?"

Adrien's cheeks turned a shade pinker. "Haha, nope. I didn't realize until I had nothing left but this," he said as he gestured to himself, "and I can't go out in public in my pajamas."

Grabbing heaps of wet clothing and stuffing it into the dryer, Marinette let out a laugh, shutting the lid of the machine before pressing the start button. She wiped her hands on her shorts to rid the remaining dampness. "I mean, you could. But I can't promise you the press wouldn't have a field day."

"Oh, I'm sure," he said in reply, shaking his head with a grin. He seemed to want to load his own laundry into the washing machine, but after a moment of staring at the dials he took a seat next to her on one of the plastic chairs. "I bet they'd love to catch me walking down the street in my Ladybug-spotted pajama pants."

Marinette snorted. She tried to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat at the idea that he had clothes inspired by her. "Why am I not surprised you own Ladybug pants?"

Flipping through his phone, Adrien shot her a wink, the dimples on his cheeks prominent as he smirked. "Because you know I'm a weeb."

She brushed her bangs out of her face as they began to stick to her forehead from sweat. "I'm not going to confirm or deny that."

"Oh, I'm confirming it," Adrien said. He slipped his phone back in his pocket, and as he looked at her he must have taken notice of how hot she was, because it wasn't a moment later that his eyes glanced down from her brow and he asked, "Do you want anything to drink from across the street?"

There was a little convenience store just across the laundromat. It was small and quaint, with a selection of a few drinks and snacks and cigarettes, and also a sugary-sweet pink lemonade Marinette had found herself coming to enjoy every now and then after work. The thought of something cold against her tongue made her mouth feel like sand. She wet her lips. It was with a nod that she said, "That'd be great, thanks."

"What would'ya like?" he asked, standing from his chair. "I'm in the mood for a soda. I don't usually drink it, but today is a good day for a cherry coke, don't you agree?

"Any day as hot as this is good for anything cold, really," Marinette replied. She could feel her shirt sticking to her back as she adjusted her position in her seat, her bare thighs clinging against the plastic. "Just a pink lemonade will be fine. Anything to help cool off in this weather."

Adrien nodded. "I'll be back." With a wave of his hand, he slipped out the door, the bell jingling as it shut behind him. Marinette watched him cross the street from the window—his face hidden behind the lettering on the outside of the glass—before he entered the shop on the opposite side of the road.

Oh, man. Sweatpants were a good look on him.

The way her cheeks flushed at her own thoughts caused a trickle of embarrassment to seep down her spine. Get a hold of yourself, she scolded her inner voice, ignoring the way her mouth felt dry. That lemonade would certainly do some good to help quench her thirst… From the heat! The thirst that had been bothering her because of the heat!

She wanted to smack herself.

It didn't take him long. Five minutes and he was back with a can of coke in one hand and her bottle of lemonade in the other, the bell of the door singing after him as he handed her the drink. She took it gratefully, twisting open the cap and downing half of it in one swig. It felt like relief in the form of sugar. As a stray drop began to slide down her chin, she wiped it with a grin gestured toward her friend.

Huh. He still hadn't put his clothes in the wash...

"Thanks," she breathed. She noticed a few strands of his hair were sticking to his forehead, and there was a sheen of sweat glistening on his neck as the sun hit his skin just right.

Her face felt hot as she looked away. The second sip of lemonade that washed down her throat was one that felt a little less satisfying.

Adrien nodded, his smile almost as bright as the sunset itself. He pressed his unopened can of soda against the tip of his spine to counteract a fraction of the heat. "You're welcome," he said. "Man, I can't remember the last time it was so hot at this time of day. Makes me want to go swimming."

"That sounds nice," Marinette said. She allowed her head to rest on her palm as she dreamed of taking a dip in the pool back at their complex. Maybe if they went late at night, she and Chat Noir could go together in their masks. That would be fun.

"Doesn't it?" Sitting back down next to her, Adrien snapped open his coke and took a sip before turning his attention to her. "So, um. Weird question. Please don't laugh at me. How exactly do you work one of these things?"

As he gestured back to the washing machines behind him, Marinette glanced back and forth between her friend and the cycling appliances, baffled by what he had said. "What?" she asked in a tone that was full of amusement, halfway convinced that he was pulling her leg for some sort of weird joke, but when he didn't join in on her laughter, well…

She realized he was dead serious, and her smile diminished.

Adrien didn't meet her gaze. His hand instinctively wound back to scratch at the hairs on his nape. His voice was quiet as he said, "I may or may not know how to use a washing machine."

"Oh," Marinette said, intelligently. "It's not hard. You want me to show you?"

Her friend's cheeks were burning. "If- if it's not too much trouble."

"It's not," she said.

(It was better to spare the jokes, she knew, because in reality Adrien had grown up sheltered, like a prisoner in his own home—he couldn't help that he had never been taught how to do simple household chores.)

They spent the next ten minutes going over how to use a washing machine. For normal non-curious people, that time should have been cut in half, but Adrien was the type that asked a lot of questions. Especially when she had asked him how big of load of laundry he had and he replied with, "Does that matter?"

It did. It did matter, because he was washing a month's worth of laundry, and it all definitely wouldn't fit in a single machine.

(Marinette resisted the urge to slap her palm to her forehead.)

"Okay," she said as he put his first load in. "Do you have any fifty-cent coins?"

Adrien produced his wallet and pulled out a fifty-euro note. "I have this."

That time, she didn't bother stopping her hand before it connected to her face with a sting. "I have extra coins. We can use those."

Adrien gave an embarrassed laugh.

Once his clothes were running in the wash, they returned to their seats and leaned back, enjoying the quiet of the (now empty) laundromat that was full of the sound of gentle-rolling machines. It was already nearing nine, and Marinette had work the next morning—she knew come six when her alarm went off she'd be threatening to beat it to a pulp with her pillow.

Her eyelids began to pull downward. She couldn't wait to go home and see her partner and curl up in bed. (Her own bed, of course. Because they hadn't developed a habit of falling asleep in each others beds while watching movies and they certainly hadn't gotten used to dozing off on the couch together after a few rounds of video games.)

She wanted to text him. To tell him she would be home soon and that he didn't need to wait up for her, even though he usually went to bed around midnight. Marinette wanted to call him and let him know she was just doing some laundry and that he could eat without her because she wouldn't be home for dinner until later and she didn't want him to be hungry.

A sigh blew from her nose. Why was she thinking about him so much these days? Why did she always seem to wonder where he was and what he was doing? They were only friends, nothing more. Just friends.

Friends who lived together and fought crime together and occasionally cuddled on their couch—

Okay! That was enough!

Was Adrien like that with his roommate?

As if he could read her thoughts, Adrien broke her out of her clouded mind by saying, "Mari, tell me: how are things with the roommate?"

Swallowing some of her lemonade, Marinette twisted the cap back on the bottle and shrugged, mulling over how exactly she'd answer his question without giving too much away. "Things are good," she said. "It's only been a month, but so far everything's been really nice. We don't see each other too often because of our work schedules, and we're usually really tired when we get time together, but… He respects my space and I respect his. He's a good friend."

Adrien smiled at that. "Sounds nice."

"I only have one complaint, actually," Marinette laughed, looking to her friend with a wobbly grin. "And that's the fact that he's really bad at keeping his room clean. He's kind of all over the place, so it's a little hard to remind him to clean up after himself, but other than that… He's great. He does a lot for me."

He really does.

From cooking dinner to vacuuming the floors and sweeping the kitchen, and even making her bed for her on the mornings she had to rush out to work, Chat Noir was always there with simple surprises that made her days just a little brighter. Sometimes when she'd get home from a particularly long day at Gabriel and he was still gone, there would be something sweet left on the table for her with a note that had a pun written on it, and other times, on the days he was off or the rare occasion he arrived home earlier than she did, he would have dinner ready on the table for her with a warm bath awaiting her just down the hall.

Chat Noir cared about her so much. She needed to do something really nice for him one of these days.

"I'm glad to hear that," Adrien said. He finished his drink and crushed the can between his hands. "It's nice to know that things are going well for you."

"Thank you," Marinette said. She nudged him gently with her elbow. "What about you, huh? How are things at your place?"

Adrien tossed his empty can across the room and into the trash can. His face immediately lit up at the question. "Things are great! My roommate, she's… Wow. She's everything I've ever wanted in a roommate, you know? Understanding, clean, loves my favorite video games and is good at them, and she's teaching me how to cook. She's really good at that too. But she hogs the bathroom sometimes." He snorted at that. "But that's not really a complaint, since I understand how long it can take to get ready in the mornings. I don't wake up this pretty, you know."

Marinette laughed. "What? You're kidding."

"I'm serious," Adrien replied, humor lacing his tone. "Be glad you don't see me in the mornings, Marinette. My bedhead could rival a sheepdog's. My roommate's made a habit of handing me a brush as soon as I wake up on the weekends just because she knows."

"Is that so?" she asked, crossing her legs as she laid her arms on the back of their seats. "My roommate is the same. I can't even see his face when he wakes up in the morning. It's like a mop sat on his head."

Not that she could see his face any other time, anyway. His mask effectively prevented that.

(Even if she still did wonder who exactly it was she was living with.)

Adrien laughed in response. They spent the remaining time it took for her clothes to dry sharing details about their respective roommates, telling tales of hilarity and experiences they've had while living with their friends, and before Marinette knew it, it was already dark outside.

She began folding her clothes as Adrien loaded his into the dryer—which she also had to teach him how to use. He offered to help her with her clothing, and she gratefully accepted, her exhaustion from the day finally beginning to settle on her muscles. Her back was sore; the bandages on her fingers from accidental pricks of needles were beginning to fall off, and god, her feet ached.

"Watch out for underwear," she warned him as he began folding her clothing.

Adrien gave a playful roll of his eyes. "Marinette, I'm a model. I get paid to work around bras and underwear. It doesn't bother me. Does it bother you? Because I won't look if you don't want me to—"

Marinette laughed. "It's fine."

He still didn't touch them out of respect, though.

"My dad's been asking about you, by the way," Adrien said after an elongated silence. He folded one of her skirts and placed it in the basket that sat on the floor behind them. "He's wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner again."

Marinette stifled a yawn as she placed a pair of jeans in the basket. "Really? That's nice of him."

"Mhmm," Adrien hummed as he picked up a pair of leggings and folded one leg over the other. "I think he wants an update on our relationship or something. You know, the fact that we're 'dating' and all. That or he just likes you a lot. Which is different, because he's never liked any of my friends."

Although that was a sad fact to know, she couldn't suppress her pleased giggle. "Well, I guess I'm special, then."

"Yeah," Adrien replied. He briefly glanced at her as he folded a shirt, a smile gracing his lips. "You are."

Marinette felt her cheeks burn at that.

They folded her clothes in silence, and by the time the basket was nearly finished, the weariness that had been seeping through her bones finally inhabited deep inside of her, and it was with a yawn that caused her eyes to prick with tears that Marinette realized it was time for her to go home and relax.

The thought of curling up in her bed after a hot shower comforted her. Maybe she would put on a movie on her desktop computer and fall asleep to the light of her screen; maybe she would sit on her and Chat Noir's couch and play a peaceful farming game to help her unwind after a stressful day; or maybe she would take a bath with her favorite lavender soaps and soak all her troubles away. Every option seemed equally as enticing.

Perhaps she could coerce Chat into making her some tea… Wouldn't that be nice…

Adrien's laughter startled her out of her half-asleep state. "Why is it every time we hang out, you end up falling asleep on me?"

"I'm sorry," Marinette replied, amusement in her voice. "I've had a really long day. You wouldn't believe what I had to deal with at work today. Your father and his employees are running me ragged, I swear. He's like a tyrant sometimes, always telling me what to do and giving me deadlines that are impossible to meet so that I can't take breaks and I- oh." She placed a hand to her mouth, eyes widening a fraction. "I probably shouldn't say that stuff in front of you, huh?"

"Hey, we're not on the clock," Adrien chuckled. He gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "Besides, you're my friend and fake girlfriend. I'm not going to rat you out to my dad. I bitch more about him that anyone else does so I don't really have the right to."

She laughed at that. A pair of balled up socks were tossed into her basket.

"He's not giving you breaks?" Adrien asked after a moment, brows furrowing in concern. "Don't you work like, eight or nine hour shifts?"

Marinette looked away, hands stilling on the pants she held. It took her a moment to find her words. "He does," she said, slowly. "I'm allowed to take them any time I want. But the problem is, uh…" Oh boy. She really didn't like the idea that she was complaining about her boss to his son of all people. "It's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

"Marinette," Adrien said. "Tell me what's going on."

Ugh. He was looking at her with those kind green eyes and such care in his gaze that she couldn't not tell him the truth.

He wasn't folding anymore—his attention was undividedly upon her.

She cupped her elbow in her palm, fingers fidgeting against her skin and heartbeat quickening faster than its normal pace. "Well, you know the summer line is coming up soon. And how I recently got promoted to junior designer. Which is great! I'm super happy. But the closer the deadline for the line gets the longer my work days become, and I've been working anywhere from nine to thirteen hour shifts these days without having time to take my breaks. I can, and I'm allowed to, but if I don't get my job done in time…" She sighed. "I don't know. I know your dad won't fire me. But there are other bosses below him that are in control of me and it's just a lot of stress. I've been having a hard time."

Adrien's face visibly softened, and the empathy he felt could clearly be heard in his voice. "So that's why we haven't had lunch together since you got promoted. I had no idea. You're not thinking of quitting, are you?"

"No!" she exclaimed. She cleared her throat and blushed at the sudden rise of pitch in her voice. "No. I'd never quit. Designing is my passion, and being at your dad's company is like a dream come true. I knew long before going into the fashion business that it wasn't going to be easy. I was prepared for this. I can handle it, honestly, Adrien. But I do appreciate the concern."

"I know you can handle it," Adrien said. "I'm not doubting your ability to work long hours, Marinette. I'm just concerned for your mental and physical health. What you're having to do can't be good for you. Have you eaten today?"

Marinette glanced away, embarrassed. She had been losing weight… Even Chat Noir had made a gentle comment about it the other day. "Not since breakfast," she said.

"What?" Adrien asked incredulously. He shook his head, the skin underneath his eyes creasing from the force of his frown. "Oh, my god. I'm taking you out to eat tonight—"

"Wha—? No, Adrien, that's okay—"

"—and then I'm calling my dad to talk to him about making sure you get your breaks."

"It's fine!" Marinette said, voice cracking. She raised her hands to wave off the issue, lips forcefully curling upward as she plastered a fake smile across her cheeks. "Don't worry about it. I don't want to aggravate him. Please."

Adrien didn't respond after that. Instead, he sighed, his head turning to the side as his gaze focused on the spinning pool of laundry in the washing machine. His fingers tapped on the side of the dryer; he was thinking. Thinking for a long while.

Then, he turned back to look at her with a smile, his hand giving her a (soft, oh so soft) squeeze on her bare shoulder. "I promise I won't say anything that'll aggravate him," he said. "But please, Mari, let me get you some dinner. It's the least I can do."

"What have I done to deserve it?" she asked, half-joking.

Adrien placed an unfolded garment back down in front of him before he held up three fingers and counted them off one-by-one as he said, "Well, you're my friend, so that's one reason. Two, you said hi to me at work today and that was nice. And three, you taught me how to use a washing machine and a dryer. I think that gives me enough permission to take you out, doesn't it? Besides, I remember we had already planned to go out for some food and haven't yet, so here we are."

Marinette was genuinely touched he wanted to do something so kind for her, but she wasn't at all surprised. Kindness was in Adrien's nature—in his blood—it was just who he happened to be, inside and out. He was kind to his core.

Giving a laugh and a playful roll of her eyes, Marinette nodded in acceptance, placing another folded shirt into her basket of clean laundry. "Fine. Food does sound really great right now."

As if it could hear her, her stomach groaned in response.

"Great!" His smile blinded her. "We'll go anywhere you want."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

It was peaceful. Still, but pleasant. But that's how things with Adrien usually were.

He was such a nice person to spend time with… And so supportive and caring… Man, she really hadn't outgrown that stupid old crush, huh?

(Or maybe she just had a thing for tall, gentle boys.)

As the basket became full with her folded clothing, Adrien picked up the last shirt from the pile of dried clothes—a white tee with the Ladybug-themed Mecha Strike character on the center of the chest—and smiled, holding it up so he could see it better. "Hey, my roommate has a shirt just like this. I swear she wore it just the other day."

"Oh, yeah?" Marinette asked through a yawn. "It's a pretty popular game. Though that one is limited edition. I splurged and bought it the moment it went on sale."

"Funny," he said. "So did she."

The beep of the dryer next to hers sounded, signaling that Adrien's clothes were done as well.

The laundromat was dead. Being that they were the only two people in there, Marinette felt comfortable. It wasn't often she and Adrien got together outside of work, and even though they were simply just doing their laundry, it still felt nice to spend some time alone with him. Having him help her fold her clothes had been a plus, too.

The radio was faint as it played a slow pop song. A single fluorescent light flickered above the dryers now and again. It was quiet—full of nothing but the sound of Adrien removing his clothing from the dryer and the shuffling of fabric as he began to fold his own garments. A clock ticked on the wall across the room.

Marinette had never thought of laundromats to be anything near the definition of tranquil, but tonight it certainly felt like that title fit.

Her hand brushed Adrien's side as she approached him, fingers momentarily running over the cotton fabric of his T-shirt. "It's my turn to help you, now."

"Lucky me."

They folded his clothes together in a contented silence. The TV in the upper corner of the room played a news station in the background, the voice of the reporter mumbled and out of Marinette's mind. There hadn't been any akuma attacks today—they seemed to occur less and less often these days—so she paid no mind to its useless noise. Instead she focused on the more important matters at mind, like folding her friend's clothing, or where she'd like to go to get some food.

(From the way her stomach growled, she figured anywhere that served something hot would suffice.)

The night passed on. Once Adrien's laundry had been folded and placed in his basket, Marinette was practically falling asleep on her feet, but she couldn't blow Adrien off to go home and rest, and she absolutely could not slip into bed from exhaustion without eating dinner again.

Adrien's questioning smile was all she needed to choose a destination. They decided they would go out for pizza, since it was a simple meal and there was a pizza joint nearby, and it was with a pleading stomach that Marinette told Adrien she would meet him there, right after she dropped her clothes off at home in her bedroom.

He mentioned he would just keep his in his car—well, not his car, just the one he had been borrowing from his dad to drive to work in—and that he would grab them a table so she didn't have to wait. It was a small gesture, but a kind one that she appreciated.

Marinette's disappointment at finding Chat Noir absent from their apartment once she arrived home was overwhelming. Man, after a bad day, all she had really wanted to do was at least say hello to him before she went to bed… Damn.

(The way her heart ached was a familiar pain, though she elected to ignore it.)

Dinner with Adrien was nice. They shared a cheese pizza and an order of breadsticks. Marinette had laughed when a glob of cheese dripped from the crust of his slice and splattered itself on his sweatpants. It hadn't been as funny when it had happened to her as well, though, even if Adrien had gotten a kick out of it.

They talked about work and Alya and Nino's upcoming baby, about when they thought their friends would be coming for a visit, and even discussed the topic of what their own futures would be like, as well.

It was nice to know Adrien wanted kids. Three was a good number.

By the time it reached ten, Marinette felt dead. She didn't bother refusing Adrien's offer to drive her home, far too tired to deal with her own independency, practically falling asleep on the short ride to her complex. In fact, she was so out of it that she hadn't even noticed that her friend had opened the car door for her once they'd arrived in front of her building, her legs stumbling in her attempt to walk out onto the sidewalk. Luckily, Adrien caught her before she stumbled and broke her neck.

"You didn't tell me you lived here," Adrien said. He righted her to a stand, yet his hand still remained on the small of her back. "That's crazy. You live in this building?"

She smiled sleepily in response. "Mhm. Why?"

The yellow streetlamp they stood underneath illuminated the green of Adrien's eyes as they crinkled from his grin. "I do, too! How have we been living in the same complex this entire time and never noticed?"

Marinette's heart skipped not one, but multiple beats at his response. "Oh, wow! Um… Probably because of our work schedules? You know I get there early."

"Right..." Adrien was silent for a moment after that, his eyebrows furrowing and mouth still. It was almost like… Like he was staring at her, studying her face for some reason… What was he looking at? Did she have something on her face?

Oh, no, was there tomato sauce on her cheek? Why hadn't he said anything!?

She scrubbed at her skin to rid any food that might've strayed there, but even as she made sure nothing remained on her face, he was still looking at her, almost as if he was searching for something he couldn't find. As if he thought she was... Someone else…

"Adrien?" she asked, voice practically a whisper. "Everything okay?"

He blinked as if he had been startled, eyes widening for a brief moment before he shook his head and replaced the puzzled expression with a smile. "Y-yeah," he said, gaze darting to the side. "I'm—I'm fine. Sorry."

"It's okay," she said.

His hand retreated to the back of his neck, as it always did when he was nervous. "I had a nice time tonight, Marinette. You're good company. I'm—" his eyes met hers that time, and she felt a rush of something warm flow to her heart, "—I'm really glad you're my friend. Take care of yourself, okay? People care about you. I—I care about you."

It was difficult to find the words that had become so lost in her throat. All she could do was swallow and nod.

He bid her goodnight after that. She didn't miss the way his fingers just barely grazed the tips of her knuckles, or how his eyes lingered on her for longer than necessary as he walked himself inside their complex.

Her legs felt like she had just run a marathon. She… She needed to sit down.

How many minutes she sat outside by the pool, she had no idea. Her feet swished in the water as its low blue light danced over her skin, cold (yet calming) to the touch. It was past her bedtime; she really needed to be heading back up to her apartment—there was no doubt Chat Noir was home by now—yet she found peace in sitting by the poolside, legs rocking back and forth underneath the sparkling cover of pool water.

It felt nice.

Today had been nice.

Adrien was such a kind soul. Though she dearly loved her partner as her best friend, Marinette couldn't help but let the wandering thought of how it would have been having Adrien as a roommate pass through her mind, and as her heart began to swell with whatever it was that made her feel so damn happy, she felt like she was going to explode.

Her finger swirled circles into the water. She watched as it rippled out along the surface, creating a conga line of circles that flowed around the pool as if some unseen being was dancing atop its reflective sheen.

She didn't know what time it was when she finally stepped through the front door of their apartment. Half expecting to find her partner lazed about on the couch, Marinette felt saddened to see that he was in his bedroom with the door shut, no indication that he was home other than the light that filtered through the cracks in his doorway.

"Chat?" she called, voice raspy from exhaustion. "I'm home."

"Buginette's back!" he called from his room, tone cheery in contrast to her weariness. "Just give me a minute, my Lady, I'm getting dressed."

A yawn caused her to pause. "That's okay. I'm getting in the shower."

It felt freeing to finally undress after a long day of work. As she stepped in the shower and felt the warmth of the flowing water douse her back, she nearly collapsed. Her hand instinctively went to the wall to prevent herself from slipping out of the tub and cracking her head on the floor.

She was only in there for a few minutes when there came a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" she asked.

Chat Noir was barely audible over the roar of the cascading droplets. "Can I come in for a sec? I just need my makeup remover wipes. Last time I slept in a face full of concealer, my pillow was peach."

She gave a noise in affirmation, a weak chuckle rising from her lips at his comment. At this point in their relationship, their levels of comfort with each other had exceeded whatever it had ever been before they started living together. She'd seen her partner walk around their place in his boxers far too many times for her to worry about being modest, and she definitely had her fair share of wearing only T-shirts and underwear on the weekends. Besides, the shower curtain was opaque—he wouldn't see anything. Even if she was too tired to care whether or not he did at this hour.

The bathroom door opened and closed, and Chat Noir's voice followed. "How was your day, Ladybug?"

With a hum, Marinette smiled despite herself. "Really, really good."

She heard the bathroom cabinet opening, and some type of shuffling below. "That's great," Chat said. "I'm glad to hear that!"

"Mhm." The fruity scent of her shampoo filled the room as she began to scrub it into her hair. "And you?"

"Equally as good," he responded. "Aha! Here they are. Found the wipes."

"Good," she said. She squeezed her hair, washing the rest of the shampoo out. The conditioner squirted onto her palm. "You heading to bed?"

He hummed. "Nah, not yet. Just getting comfortable."

Aw. What a shame. She had almost considered letting him lay in bed with her while she talked about her day…

"I'm too tired to even finish showering," she said through a yawn. The wall of the shower was cold as she leaned back into it.

Chat Noir laughed. The sound of the cabinet opening and closing filtered through the curtain once again. "I mean, you could sleep there, but that'd be pretty uncomfortable."

"Don't tell me how to live my life," she joked.

She could practically feel her partner giving a playful roll of his eyes. "Okay, Buginette, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Oh my god," she said, voice wavering from a laugh. "Get out so I can dry off and go to bed, you peeping tom."

"I was taking my makeup off!"

She shook her head. The smile that graced her face was genuine. "Get out of here and make me some tea, pleeease."

"I'm going, I'm going. Love you, bossy."

She nearly poked her head out of the shower to stick her tongue out at him, but by the time she remembered she wasn't wearing a mask, he was gone, sounds of clinking dishes in the kitchen signaling that he was indeed making her a hot beverage.

Well, at least the end of her day had been nice. Spending time with Adrien had lifted her spirits to the moon, but coming home to Chat Noir, having him joke with her and be his all-around sweet self… She was happy. Really, really happy.

Yeah. Things had definitely been going well.

Chapter Text

He woke up at noon.

Sunlight streamed through his open eyelids as he blinked at the harsh yellow rays. Rubbing at his eyes, Adrien sat up with a yawn, his back cracking with the force of his stretch as he rose from his bed. The wooden floor underneath his feet was cool to the touch. With his green pajama pants falling past his ankles, he allowed his body to slump as his bangs fell in front of his gaze.

Ugh. He really needed to stop sleeping so late. But with the freedom of living on his own, it became harder and harder to maintain multiple aspects in his life, including his sleep schedule and the types of foods he ate—among other things.

Adrien placed his palm to his forehead with a grimace. A headache creeped up the back of his neck.

The entire first month living with Ladybug had been a rush. At first things had been awkward—it took them a good week or two to get comfortable with sharing a living space and adjusting to each other's lifestyle—but overall, it had gone by smoothly. Better than that in Adrien's opinion, actually. Living with Ladybug had been so much fun.

He barely remembered this past month other than the fact that he'd been having the time of his life. Despite being unable to control himself at times, living on his own was fantastic! He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to do it, and nobody could stop him. Eat cake for dinner? Sure! Sleep until one? No problem! Wear nothing but boxer shorts around the house? Hell yes.

Ladybug didn't care. Ladybug had her own life to live and let him do whatever he wanted. And he loved having that freedom.

When it came down to it, Ladybug didn't mind how he lived.

Except, of course, when the mess in his room left little to no space for anyone to walk through, and when his laundry became a mountain in the corner, and his stomach started curling in on itself from the constant fast food and quick meals since he hadn't exactly perfected his cooking skills quite yet. Or when he realized he hadn't eaten an actual vegetable in two weeks and his sleep schedule was absolutely screwed because he stayed up until four in the morning and slept until nearly one in the afternoon.

It had only taken one comment from Ladybug about how his room looked like a tornado hit it for him to get off his ass and clean it.

He had really taken the cleaners at his childhood home for granted… Who knew that maintaining a pristine living space was hard when he didn't have someone to clean up after himself?

Thankful that he had a partner like Ladybug to help keep him from sitting on his lazy ass, Adrien smiled, glancing around his recently-cleaned bedroom as rays of afternoon sunlight trickled through his curtains and onto the rumbled sheets of his bed. The heat of the sun was comfortable against his back, but Adrien resisted the urge to curl back up on top of his blankets and instead forced himself up to a stand, where he crossed the hall to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.

He needed to get ready for a relaxing day off.

After he'd gotten out, he changed into a black T-shirt and jeans, made himself a quick sandwich for lunch and checked his work email, reading through boring message after message about some stupid meeting coming up or a staff dinner night—which sounded boring too, save for the fact that a staff party might mean Marinette and Chloé would be attending—and it was after ten minutes of reading and replying to various emails that he got a text from a number that was all too familiar, sending a smile to his face.

Nino had sent him a picture. Which, by all means was a normal thing this far into their friendship, but this particular photo was different. Special, in a way—a particular type of special that caused Adrien to nearly choke on his own spit, a cough rising from his blocked airway as he hacked and took in a gulp of air to steady his breathing.

It was a selfie of Nino standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, two fingers held up in an innocent peace sign with a smile that practically put a halo above his signature red baseball cap.

"That asshole," Adrien snickered. He slapped a palm to his forehead in disbelief and quickly hit the dial button, not wasting a moment as his best friend picked up the phone. "Dude, what are you doing? Where are you? You jerk, you didn't tell me you were visiting!"

Nino's responding laughter on the other line had Adrien grinning like a fool. "That's called a surprise, Adrien!"

"You're both here?"

"Of course," Nino said. "I'm not leaving my girl all the way across the ocean, are you kidding me? I'd miss her too much."

Ah, well, he could understand that. Now that they were living together, if he had to leave Ladybug behind while he visited a far away place… He'd be sad enough to cry.

(Perhaps he was a little too attached.)

"I had a question," Nino continued. "Do you have plans tonight? The four of us should go out to dinner. Besides, I've been dying to have some of Marinette's pastries again, so tell her to bring some."

Adrien gave a playful roll of his eyes. "Her parents' pastries, you mean."

"Same thing. Anyway," Nino said, the sound of wind in the background distorting his voice a bit. "Do you work today? What time does Marinette get off if she's working too? We wanna know what would be a good time and place to meet up for dinner."

"I've got the day off," Adrien said. "I think Marinette gets off at seven."

He could hear Alya's voice in the background as Nino said, "Alright. I'll see if Alya can let her know we'll be coming—"

"Or you could keep it a surprise," Adrien offered, lying his head back against the armrest of the couch. "You know, have me tell Mari that it's just us two going out, and have her see you guys waiting outside for her. That'd make her day, I'm sure."

Nino's tone brightened. "Good idea."

They'd decided they would go out to a restaurant they'd visited not long before Nino and Alya had left for California. It was a quaint place with good food, a rooftop terrace that held a live band and seats, and cylindrical fish tanks that adorned the interior. It was a little on the pricier side, but Adrien didn't mind. He was happy to take his friends out for a tasty meal and drinks any night.

(Even if Alya couldn't indulge in a night of drinking due to her being pregnant, he supposed.)

He spent the remainder of the day cleaning the apartment. He knew Ladybug would be tired by the time she got home, since his father was pushing deadlines on his employees as the mid-summer months began rolling in, and the last thing he wanted her to have to deal with was coming home to a dirty living space.

The kitchen counters were wiped, the wooden floors swept and vacuumed, the bathroom was organized and living room cleared of clutter. He fluffed the couch cushions and, after hearing Plagg incessantly complain for cheese, even went out to buy some groceries for he and Ladybug to share, as well as other household necessities like toilet paper and soap.

"I should probably call Marinette," Adrien said as he parked back home and began to unload the paper bags from his car. "I need to let her know that we're going out."

Plagg poked his head out from the bag that contained his cheese, voice muffled from the food in his mouth. "Taking your girlfriend on a date?"

Rolling his eyes with a smile, Adrien shook his head. "No, unfortunately. But we are meeting up with Alya and Nino tonight for dinner. If you're good, I might even order a cheese appetizer to go, so don't cause trouble."

He winked at his kwami, whose eyes began to sparkle with delight. The little god licked his lips as he began to salivate. "Trouble? Me? That's unheard of!"

"Yeah, sure." Adrien scratched under Plagg's chin, who responded with a purr. "Let's get these groceries inside."

As soon as he'd gone up to his apartment and set the bags on the counter, Plagg zipped out from the cover of a box of pasta noodles and dove into another bag, tossing things out as he searched for whatever it was he was looking for. "Where are they?" he asked, burrowing a hole into the neatly bagged groceries (that were now in a pile of disarray on the counter.) "Where are Tikki's cookies? You bought her some, right? It better have been chocolate chip. Those are her favorite."

Adrien grabbed the bag of dry goods that sat to the side and pulled out a container of twenty-four chocolate chunk cookies, placing it on the counter in front of his kwami. "These?"

"Perfect." Without waiting for Adrien to put them in the pantry himself, Plagg picked up the plastic container and zipped off to the windowsill next to the couch, where the two kwami had made a makeshift nest of fabrics and cotton for them to rest in. Plagg busied at the nest as he landed in it, paws brushing the soft materials around—as if he was trying to perfect it before his other half came home. He opened the pack of cookies and placed one on the side closest to the window where Tikki usually enjoyed spending her nights.

It was a funny thing to see Plagg so caught up in making their own little spot in the apartment grand enough for Ladybug's kwami. The usual sarcastic, playful nature of Plagg was reserved only for humans it seemed, because when it came to Tikki, well…

He was different. Different in a way Adrien could understand. He was the same with his partner, after all.

After putting away all of the groceries and stocking the bathroom and kitchen with the household items they'd needed, Adrien checked the time displayed on the oven. It was already three-thirty; Marinette was probably on her lunch by now, unless she'd taken it early.

He thought of her leaving her sketchbook at her desk and sitting in the breakroom, relaxing in one of the chairs and listening to the radio, mindlessly playing on her phone as she ate.

Adrien wondered what she was eating. He hoped it was something she liked, like something sweet, or perhaps a favorite meal of hers.

(But to be honest, he hoped she was at least eating at this point, knowing full well that she'd been skipping one too many lunch breaks to meet her ridiculous deadlines…

He'd tried talking to his father about it. He had. But the old grump hadn't wanted to hear it.)

So, because his stomach was starting to feel sick with worry over whether or not she had eaten enough for the day, he wasted no time in picking up his phone and dialing her number.

Marinette had just clocked out for her lunch break when her phone began ringing.

Not bothering to read the caller's name, she picked up, holding her phone in one hand and reaching into the break room fridge with the other. "Hello?" she asked, pulling out her salad and sitting at one of the tables. She opened the plastic container and poured the cup of dressing over the spinach leaves.

Adrien's voice came from the other line. "Hey, Marinette. Have you eaten yet?"

Fork in mouth, Marinette hummed in response. "Uh… Working on it."

"Good," he said. She heard shuffling come from his end. "Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner tonight. My treat."

She dropped her plastic fork on top of her food in surprise, nearly losing her phone—which Adrien had just paid to get fixed—in the process. Heartbeat quickening, she nodded before realizing that he couldn't see her, and said (a little breathlessly), "Yeah! Yeah. I'd love that. What's, um—what's the occasion?"

Of all the things he could do, Adrien giggled. "Oh, no occasion. I just remembered that I had promised to take you out one night, hadn't I?"

Marinette swallowed a bite of her salad. "You just did last week when we went out for pizza."

"Yeah, but that wasn't fancy," he said. "I want to take you somewhere fancy."

"Why?" she found herself asking, because she was genuinely confused. Unless… He was asking her on a date, then somewhere fancy would be reasonable, but… Was he asking her on a date?

Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

He had been acting more affectionate towards her lately… And she had caught him staring at her a lot as of late...

She could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he responded, "What, a friend can't take another friend out somewhere fancy and expensive?"

"I- I don't know, probably?"

Adrien laughed. "If you want to, meet me at the corner of Varenne and Vaneau at eight. I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Marinette cocked a brow in question. "For me? What is it?"

More importantly, what did she do to deserve it?

"You'll see," Adrien chuckled. "But I promise you'll like it."

The rest of her work day went by slowly after that. She went through her tasks distracted yet determined to get her work done, scolding herself every time she caught her thoughts wandering and only allowing herself to to focus on what she needed to get done for the day.

By the time seven rolled around she was exhausted—covered in cuts from accidental pricks of her sewing needles and the tips of her fingers smudged black from her pencils. Her hair was a mess and she felt hot, desperately wishing she could take a shower when she arrived home but knowing she didn't have the time.

Marinette arrived home by seven-fifteen and barely remembered to slip her mask back on before she walked through the door. It was quiet inside. With Chat Noir in his bedroom, she called his name to let him know that she was home and, after shutting her bedroom door, changed into an outfit that didn't smell like sweat (and was considerably less wrinkled, as well.)

She donned herself in a wine-red dress that had long sleeves of lace and a ruffled skirt that flowed when she walked. It reached down to mid-thigh, its neckline just below her collarbones, which gave her space to put on one of her favorite necklaces—a golden chain with a spotted ladybug charm.

Running a brush through her hair—which needed to be cut, as it was getting longer than she liked—she pulled her black tresses up into a messy bun, allowing a few strands to frame her face. Her makeup was fine; she didn't need to fix it. With black heels and a final spritz of perfume, she admired herself in her floor-length mirror and grinned, proud of how pretty she looked.

She checked her phone for the time. It was seven-forty. Time to go, Marinette decided.

Her mask stayed on her face as she knocked on Chat Noir's door. "You decent?"

He opened it not a moment later, dressed in nothing but jeans and dress socks as if he had been in the middle of changing as well, a casual grin on his face until he stopped and looked at her. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as his gaze darted from her face to her feet. He took a moment to admire her outfit before his eyes met her own, face reddening all the way down to his neck. "You- you, ah, uh, you are- my Lady!"

She laughed behind her hand. "What?" Despite how her cheeks burned at his reaction, she didn't mind the way he lost his words at her appearance. It felt nice to be thought as attractive, especially by someone who was equally as attractive as she was.

Chat ran his hands down his masked face. He groaned, "You're killing me, Ladybug. You're really killing me."

Marinette gave a playful roll of her eyes. "Oh, hush. I just wanted to let you know I'm going out for the night and that I might not be back till later tonight, so don't wait up, okay? I think there's a phone number for pizza delivery on the fridge, so—"

"Don't worry about me," Chat Noir said. "You go have fun, okay?"

Giving him a brief hug—unfazed by his shirtless state, as this was normal by now—she turned and left, grabbing her purse off of the counter as she made her way out.

"Enjoy your dinner!" Chat Noir called after her just before she shut the door.

Marinette froze in the hallway.

Dinner…? How had he known she was going out to dinner?

Huh. That was strange. Puzzled, Marinette slipped her mask into her purse and stepped inside the elevator, figuring he just assumed she was going out to eat and guessed correctly. No matter—she had somewhere to be, and a certain boy to look forward to meeting up with. There was no reason to dwell on the one she lived with.

The walk to the restaurant was short. It took her all but fifteen minutes to arrive, and the evening summer air was cool enough to where she hadn't been bothered by any sort of heat. It was a perfect night for a date, she thought.

(Her palms were sweating, and her mind was running a million miles a minute, but she wasn't thinking about it.)

Marinette's pulse quickened as she approached the front doors, but something stopped her. There was a feminine voice she swore she'd heard over her computer just a few days ago; a voice she'd never forget. One that she'd talked to nearly every day ever since the owner had left her on a flight to California less than a year ago. A voice that belonged to—

"Surprise!"

Marinette screamed. Sounds of pure joy burst from her lips as her eyes set sight on her best friend, who had apparently travelled all the way from California and was somehow standing in front of her outside the restaurant she had planned to meet Adrien at. Her heart was pounding. She couldn't contain her excitement as she propelled herself into Alya, her muddled feelings of glee and anger for not being told that she was visiting overflowing her tiny body and sending her eyes to water with a bucket of tears.

Oh, great. There went the waterworks.

Alya smelled of lavender and honey. Her rounded stomach pressed into Marinette's own as they held each other for the first time in what felt like eons, Alya's lips connecting to her cheek in a friendly greeting that made Marinette's throat tighten with the threat of a sob.

It felt so nice to be able to see her best friend again. To be able to hold her, feel her and look at her, as if they hadn't properly spoken to each other in years; as if this was a dream she never wanted to wake from. Alya was back. Alya was home. And, as her friend's hands rubbed up and down her arms, Marinette felt as if this night couldn't possibly get any better.

That is, until she glanced over Alya's shoulder and saw Nino smiling at her tear-streaked face, his hand outstretched in a wave.

"Oh my god," she cried, squeezing Alya in a tight hold. A thought flashed in her mind that caused her to pull back, however, and she hastily apologized as she remembered that she was currently carrying a tiny human inside of her. "I'm sorry! Did I hug you too tight? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"

Alya laughed, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "I'm fine, 'Nette. I'm only pregnant, not dying."

Marinette sighed in relief.

Wow… Alya was positively glowing. She looked stunning; her red hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, thick locks draping over her bare shoulders and falling nearly down to her chest. Her hair was getting long—it looked like she hadn't cut it in months. Marinette found she liked that, though. It really worked for her.

Her dress was knee length, black with off-the-shoulder long sleeves. Around her neck was a silver necklace, a matching pair of earrings dangling from her ears. She wasn't wearing heels, Marinette noticed—probably due to the fact that her feet were swollen from pregnancy.

Her baby-bump was just noticeable. Marinette had to repress the urge to cry uncontrollably for how happy she was for her best friend. Her hands reached forward momentarily but she hesitated and pulled back, terribly wanting to feel for any sort of life that might be stirring within her friend, but also respecting her personal boundaries. Although there had never really been any between the two of them in the first place.

Still, it didn't hurt to ask. "C-can I—?"

"Of course," Alya chuckled.

It was weird to feel her friend's swollen belly, knowing full well that there was a growing child inside. Though there were no kicks or any movement to be felt, Marinette smiled still, finding the whole situation overwhelming. Sure, it was a little surreal to know that her best friend since college was going to have a baby when she herself hadn't had much luck in the romance department, but it was nice, too. Nice to know that soon she'd have a little niece or nephew to look after—because while she and Alya weren't related, there was no way in hell she would let her friend's kid go without calling her "Aunt Marinette."

"You're so mean," she said, a smirk gracing her lips as she teased Alya, removing her hands from her stomach and meeting her eyes. "You flew all the way here without even telling me, you ass! I would have gotten you guys gifts and baby stuff if I had known!"

Nino stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as he let out a laugh. "Be mad at Adrien," he said. "He's the one who wanted to make this a surprise."

Jaw dropping, Marinette leaned forward, eyes bulging. "Adrien knew!?"

"Knew what?"

Turning around so fast she swore she'd given herself whiplash, Marinette's face reddened at the simple sight of Adrien. Though "simple" wasn't the best choice of words, because he looked anything but simple—with his lean frame dressed in a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his just above his elbows, black jeans and a leather belt to match, he looked good. No, better than that—he looked hot!

She swallowed. Her throat felt dry.

(Could they go inside so she could order a glass of water?)

"A-Adrien," she breathed. Standing up straight, she gave an awkward wave.

It was amazing how one cute guy could make her entire brain malfunction.

Adrien stood next to her, the thin fabric of his shirt brushing against her bare arm. His expression was soft as he gazed at her outfit, his head tilting to the side in a way that was endearing. His eyes glowed with affection as he said, "I like that dress. You look pretty, Marinette."

"Oh, thanks," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice. "You look pretty too."

Adrien's responding smile was one that could light up the sky. "Thank you!"

"Marinette didn't like the surprise," Nino joked, throwing his arms around his best friend and wrapping him in a tight bear-hug. "She's mad that you wanted to keep our visit a secret."

Squeezing Nino in his hold, Adrien laughed. "But I only found out today when you were already in the city!"

"Because we were trying to surprise both of you! But Nino had to send a picture." Alya stepped over to the two tallest of the group and shoved herself between her fiancé and his best friend for a well-deserved group hug. "Marinette, get on in here. We're having a bonding moment."

Unwilling to be left out, Marinette's cheeks hurt from how wide her smile spread as her friends opened their arms to her, squeezing herself into their hold. It was warm; full of love and laughter and joy; a feeling that made her heart beat with the unmistakable memory of home. This was her happy place—here with her friends—and it had been too long since she'd last felt the comforting embrace of their arms and the heat that radiated off of their entwined bodies.

"I love you guys," Marinette said. Her eyes began to water a second time. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you both, too," Adrien added. Marinette felt the arm he held around her tighten. "How long are you staying for?"

Pulling away from the hug, Alya and Nino shared a glance before Alya gestured with her hand towards the glass restaurant doors. "Let's get our table, and then we'll talk."

Marinette couldn't ignore the way Adrien kept his hand against the small of her back as they walked inside the dimly-lit restaurant. Her pulse raced, fingers clenching on the strap her her purse and eyes trained on the floor.

Could he just keep his hand there? Forever?

They were seated in the back at a booth in front of one of the restaurant's many fish tanks that dotted the interior. The light from the water illuminated the surface of the table, its wooden finish glowing a faint blue. While Alya and Nino sat on one side, Adrien joined Marinette on the other, and the four of them glanced over their menus as they chatted.

His hand momentarily brushed her own as he lifted his menu. The cool metal of his ring grazed her fingers. "So, how long are you guys here for?" he asked, directing his attention to their visitors. "And where are you staying?"

Hands intertwining, Alya and Nino smiled in unison.

"Just two weeks, for now," Alya said. Her hazel eyes sparkled in excitement. "We're actually looking for houses—"

"—so we can move back not long after the baby's born," Nino finished, shooting an apologetic look to his fiancée for interrupting her. Alya gave a playful roll of her eyes and patted his hand.

"We would have liked to find a place before she arrived," she said. Her thumb moved in circles over her partner's skin, caressing his hand like it was her favorite thing to hold. "But time isn't exactly on our side, and while we're not short on money, we—"

"Wait, wait," Marinette said. She lifted up a hand to stop her friend in her tracks. "'She?' You're having a girl?!"

Adrien chimed in. "How far along are you, now?" he asked, placing his reading glasses on the collar of his shirt, as it seemed he had already decided what he was ordering as his entrée.

What a shame. She'd always loved how he looked when he wore those things…

(Funny. Those glasses looked almost identical to Chat Noir's, now that she thought about it…)

"Eighteen weeks," Alya replied. A hand went to her stomach. "So… A little over four months."

"Wow," Marinette breathed. "It's still hard to believe, to be honest."

"For us, too," Nino said. "But we're excited."

The waiter came to take their orders, politely interrupting their conversation. He held a bottle of wine in his hands with an offer to fill their glasses, and immediately all eyes went to Alya.

She laughed. "Hey, don't worry about me. You guys have your fun. I'm only here for the food."

The wine was a familiar bitterness on her tongue as Marinette placed her lips to the rim of her glass.

"So, where were you guys thinking of moving?" Adrien asked as he sipped his wine. "Somewhere close or more towards the suburbs?"

Nino shot a text before pocketing his phone, eyes bright as he replied, "Well, we were hoping for a house with a yard, but anything that's available is either just outside city limits or too far away from where we grew up. So we're actually scouting for some larger apartments with two or three floors. Kind of like the home you grew up in, Marinette."

Smiling at that, she swirled her wine around in her glass. It was a red—one of her favorites—and she had tomorrow off, so there was no harm in doing a little drinking.

"I hope you guys find some place nice," she said. "Hopefully somewhere close to us. I'm always up for babysitting, you know."

Alya snickered. "Baby's not even born yet and my girl is already trying to steal her away."

"I'm just saying," Marinette laughed, finishing her glass. "That if you need baby help, don't be afraid to ask."

"Oh, I won't. Trust me." Alya smirked. "If this kid starts driving me insane you bet you're watching her for a week while I take a vacation in the Bahamas."

Nino placed his hands on his fiancée's stomach, grinning. "Don't listen to your mom, kid. We love you!"

The waiter returned shortly after to bring them their food, and they took a moment's silence to begin eating. It wasn't long before they were talking again, and after Nino had told the group a story about a surprise streaker at one of his recent shows, Marinette had found herself laughing, immensely enjoying her time out with her best friends for the first time in what felt like ages.

She was glad to see that Adrien was having a good time, too. He'd been working almost as much as she had as of late, and all she'd wanted for him these past few weeks was for him to find an opportunity to wind down and be his goofy self rather than stiffly posing for the camera for hours on end.

Adrien's eyes met hers. Caught staring, she sipped at her second (third?) glass of wine and looked away.

"Hey," Adrien said, turning his attention back to his other friends, "I bet I can guess what you guys missed most about Paris while you were gone."

Nino poured himself another glass of wine. "Besides the food and decent gun laws?"

With a laugh, Adrien said, "The akuma attacks."

Alya tapped him on the arm. "Oh, fuck you. I'm so glad that we don't have to deal with those anymore. But I'll be honest, I miss seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir in person. They're still so cool, and watching online footage isn't enough, you know? I have to be there for the real deal. I have to be the one to film it."

Though she'd given up the Ladyblog long ago to pursue her career in journalism, Alya had never lost her passion for capturing photos of the elusive superheroes. Marinette made a mental note to say hi to her in costume the next time Alya was taking a stroll through the city. Maybe she could coerce Chat into dropping in as well...

Her mouth tasted like alcohol as the night carried on. Licking her lips, Marinette poured herself another glass of wine, her eyes captivated by the way the red liquid spilled from the bottle. It swirled and splashed into the bowl of her glass until it was filled just a little over halfway, and her hands felt as if they were moving in slow motion as she set the bottle down with a soft clink against the table.

Was this her fourth glass? Fifth? She didn't know.

Adrien was talking. She wasn't sure what he was saying, but all she knew was that she loved the sound of his voice. If he could just keep talking… That would be nice. Shifting her gaze towards him, her lips curled into a wide smile, cheeks hurting from the force of her grin. He was making conversation with Nino, who—judging by the look on his face—had drank a little more than he had expected to. But it was the same in her case, anyway.

Adrien looked so… So good, so- so nice. He looked so nice sitting there with his hair brushed and his bangs combed to the side, green eyes radiating warmth like a summer's afternoon when the sun had reached its peak in the sky. He looked so nice with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, white sleeves rolled up to above his elbows and lips moving as he spoke, that soft, gorgeous voice resonating deep within her very soul…

Oh, wow.

She felt good. Adrien looked good. Tonight was good.

Everything was really bubbly and happy and Marinette just loved the way his mouth parted when he talked, how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his drink—yes, the same one he'd been nursing since the waiter had first offered them a glass—and she adored how his face lit up as he laughed, his dimples prominent with every smile. She wanted to kiss them, those cute little things—she wanted to kiss them and his lips and just him in general. She wanted to kiss him so bad.

...Was she drunk?

Oh, god, she lamented internally. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Adrien caught her staring for the thousandth time that night. She quickly averted her eyes. I'm drunk and he knows I'm drunk.

Time to crawl in a hole and die!

"Marinette?" Adrien asked, his voice like honeyed silk. "Hey, Mari, you okay?"

"I have to pee," she said, intelligently allowing that statement to pass her lips against her better judgement, which had flown out the window ever since she'd first popped open the wine bottle.

Adrien's lips twitched into a slight grin, clearly amused. "Oh, sorry. Let me let you out." He slid from the booth, standing out of her path as she scooched down the seat, legs wobbly as her feet touched the floor.

Ugh. Did she really have to wear heels tonight? Did she really? Wasn't she fine just being short? Shortness was fine. Shortness was cute. She was cute as hell, short legs and all.

Oh, fuck. She had to pee.

"I'll be right back," she murmured, brushing past Adrien as she made her way to the restrooms. Adrien grabbed hold of her hand, however, steadying her feet as she stumbled.

He squeezed her knuckles. His eyes were velvet as he gazed down at her. "Hey, woah, slow down. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she insisted. She wasn't. But she was, damn it. "Just… Really gotta pee."

"Let me walk you."

Well. Alright. No way in hell she'd refuse a walk with him.

Adrien led her down the hallway, the pad of his thumb rubbing slow, gentle circles into her skin. The world felt dizzy as she followed his lead down a fuzzy sort of path that was the hallway to the restroom, and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her as Adrien told her he'd wait outside for her, the concern in his gaze oddly familiar yet not unwelcome.

Marinette wasn't sure how long she was in there. All she knew was that she was tired and that she felt a little sick, and her face burned with the heat of her blush as she realized that the last time Adrien had seen her drunk was Christmas—which, albeit many months ago, was worse than the state she was in currently—and it was just so embarrassing, because oh, she was such an emotional drunk, and now that she was alone in the bathroom thinking about how sweet and kind of a person he was, and how selfless he was to get up from his friends he hadn't seen in months to look after her of all people had her eyes welling up with tears.

She could feel Tikki's comforting touch against her arm as the little god emerged from her purse. "Are you okay?" she asked, tone delicate. "What happened, Marinette?"

"I'm okay, Tikki," she said. "I'm… I'm alright."

Was she?

Ugh. She hated feelings. She hated that she was so in love with Adrien's dumb face (it wasn't dumb, no, no) and she hated that she was staring at herself in the bathroom mirror with reddened eyes and a headache, wishing she could go home with him and curl up into his bed and kiss him all over, his roommate be damned.

Marinette wanted to kiss him so much.

"'Nette? You in here?"

Alya's voice broke her out of her stupor. Tikki zipped back into her purse in a blur of red.

Turning her head, Marinette sighed as her friend entered the bathroom, making quick work to wipe at the budding tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. Her mind felt thick with mist. "I'm h-here," she murmured, voice cracked and slurred. "I'm… fine." She had to place a hand on the counter to steady herself.

The look Alya shot her was one of disbelief. "No you're not," she said, approaching her with an arm draping around her waist. "You're crying. Why?"

Marinette shook her head. "I… I don't know."

"Are you sure?" Producing a tissue from her purse, Alya stood in front of her best friend and began to dab at her damp cheeks, brushing a strand of hair that hung loosely from her bun behind her ear. "You know you can talk to me, Marinette. Just because this is my first full day back in Paris doesn't mean that I'm not going to be here for you. You're my bestie, remember?"

Another sigh shuddered from Marinette's body. She placed her head on Alya's shoulder, her forehead pressed into the warmth of her neck. The scent of her perfume was strong and inviting. "I'm drunk."

"Well, that part was obvious," Alya laughed. She wrapped her arms around her. "Nino is, too. I'm surprised Adrien is still sober, but he did drive here, so…"

A whine rose from Marinette's lips. "Ugh, Adrien… Why's he gotta be so cute, Alya? Why do I have to like him so much… I thought for the longest time I was—I was done with that boy. But now, I…" Her thoughts were a muddled mess of emotions. "I don't know. I don't know! I'm so mad at him."

Why was she crying?

Why am I crying!?

Alya's voice was gentle. "Why are you mad? You guys are living together still, right? Did he do something?"

"No," Marinette said. "No... n... he'd never. He'd never be bad to me…"

"Then what's going on?"

Truth be told, Marinette was a little envious. Here Alya was, twenty-two and four months pregnant with a gorgeous ring on her finger, happily in love in a successful, long-term relationship. Alya was lucky. Alya had everything Marinette could have ever wanted in a relationship. Of course she was elated that her best friend was so happy, and she couldn't have been prouder that Alya was going to get married and be a mom, but…

At the same time, Marinette wanted that, too. Not kids—no, not yet—but she was lonely… Really lonely.

Oh, if only she'd had the courage to confess to Adrien when they were younger… Maybe they would be at the same point Alya and Nino were at, now…

(Or perhaps, if Adrien hadn't felt the same way, things would have grown increasingly awkward, and their friendship might have suffered… So maybe it was best this way.)

"I'm mad that he's so cute, and so great, and I can't have him," she bemoaned. Alya was practically holding her up at this point. "And I'm- I'm mad that he's got this crush on someone else but he acts like he's crushing on me, too, and all this past week at work he's been looking at me as if I'm someone else, like he- he recognizes another person... in me. And I'm dying inside because every time he says hi to me in the halls I just want to pull him into a closet and take off his shirt and—"

"Woah!" Alya laughed, pushing Marinette back a bit to gaze into her eyes with amusement. "Down, girl. You know, if you're so desperate to climb up that tree, why don't you just tell him how you feel? I'm sure Adrien would—"

Marinette whined. She leaned against the counter, staring down into the drain of the sink as if the answer to all of her life's problems would magically pop out of the pipes. She felt nauseous. Frustrated, she resisted the urge to bang her head against the mirror. "Can't," she mumbled. "I can't, Alya. I'm no- no good with relationships… I've never even been with anyone before in that way, I wouldn't know what to—"

"So what?" Alya asked. She stood behind her, letting Marinette's hair loose and brushing it out before fixing her bun. "There's no shame in being a virgin. You'll get there when you get there, and that's nobody's business but your own. Don't feel embarrassed about it. Some people have those experiences at younger ages and some don't. It's fine."

Still, Marinette's cheeks burned as the world floated around her.

"C'mon," encouraged Alya, giving her a pat on the back. "Let's fix your makeup and go back out to our boys. They're probably wondering where we are."

When Marinette came back out of the bathroom, Adrien noticed the edges of her eyes were stained a light red. His heart dropped a few inches in his chest when she refused to meet his gaze, walking past him with Alya at her side.

"Hey," he said, speaking as softly as he could as he approached her from behind. Instinctively his hand brushed her own—it felt like a breath of fresh air as she welcomed his touch, allowing their fingers to thread together as if that's how they were made to be. "Hey, Mari… What's going on?"

"She's fine," Alya said. She gave him a reassuring look. "She's just tired and very, very drunk."

Well, he knew that. But it didn't stop him from feeling concerned for her well being. What if she was feeling sick, or- or she needed to lie down somewhere? What if her feet hurt from those heels?

He should take her home. He wanted to take her home and let her rest and tell her that things were going to be okay in the morning. He wanted to let her sleep in for once, and when she rose out of her bed he wanted to present her with a plate of her favorite breakfast foods (though he wasn't that great of a cook) like he'd often found her making on the mornings he woke up early enough to steal a taste.

"I'm f-fine…" Marinette told him. She swayed as she walked, her balance inhibited from the alcohol. "Hey, Adrien?"

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name. "Yeah?"

"I want cake really bad. Do they have cake here?"

"They do," Adrien said, cocking a brow in amusement. "Do you want some?"

Alya laughed. "We can order dessert."

With a slice of chocolate cake in front of her, Marinette's mood had considerably brightened. In fact, she was feeling so up in spirits that every time he looked at her she smiled so big, and every time he spoke to her he could see light sparkle in her eyes, the way her cheeks dusted pink with a blush, and how happy she became just from a simple sentence being directed at her. It was adorable, to be honest, and Adrien knew that for a fact. Her smile was too blinding for him to not find it endearing.

Alya and Nino left to the bathroom after a while, so for a few minutes it was just Marinette and himself. She was out of it, yes, but her laughter was enough to keep him entertained. Sure, her speech was a little slurred and she was acting much like she had on Christmas when he'd last seen her drunk, but it was a refreshing sight to see her out and having fun instead of being stuck at a desk all day, working herself to death at a job that didn't pay her enough for the amount of passion she carried.

(He seriously needed to have his dad give her a promotion or a raise or something.)

"You're beautiful," Marinette said suddenly, causing Adrien to give a flattered blink of surprise.

"Oh. Thank you," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. His voice wavered as he replied, "S-so are you, Mari."

She scooted closer to him, fingers running down the skin of his arm as she placed her cheek on his bicep. "Adrien," she breathed, voice quiet, face nuzzling against his arm. He could smell the wine on her breath. "If I asked you a question, would you answer?"

"Of course," he said.

"Would... It be a good answer?"

Those big blue eyes met his own, and Adrien swore he was going to melt. "It depends on the question, I guess," he said.

There was a pause. Then, with her gaze trained on her empty plate, she whispered, "If I told you that… That I wanted to kiss you, would you? Kiss me?"

He looked at her lips.

His heart felt like it had just jumped into his throat. He wanted to say, "yes." He wanted to tell her that he'd been in love with her for years—ever since she'd first introduced herself by trapping them suspended in the air and calling herself clumsy—and that he'd do anything just to know she felt the same way. He wanted to scoop her up and kiss her cheeks and lips and face and tell her that he'd never say no to that question, ever, not once in his life.

But she was drunk. And she wasn't herself.

Instead, he smiled. Placing one of his hands over her own and giving it a gentle squeeze, he said, "Ask me that question again when you're sober, and then we'll see."

She seemed content with that response.

The night went on, the four of them sharing laughs and stories of how their lives had been while living across the ocean from each other, and at one point Nino had spilled his glass of wine on the table, which Marinette had found hilarious. The two of them both had consumed a little too much wine, but so long as they got home safety, Adrien didn't mind. It was actually pretty entertaining to see Marinette and Nino laughing over every little thing someone said or did, and if he hadn't needed to drive home, he might've joined them in their drinking.

Adrien began to feel the beginnings of sleep clutch at the back of his mind. He remained at the table, though, watching Marinette's eyes droop as she swayed. His shoulder had become her pillow at this point—that is, until he had made a quick trip to the bathroom and came back to find Alya combing her fingers through the hair of her best friend, who had fallen asleep with her head propped up on her arms.

It was then Adrien knew that it was time to go home.

With the bill paid and an apology to the restaurant staff for staying so long, Adrien watched as Alya attempted to wake their sleeping friend. Maris only groaned and grumbled in resistance as she urged her to get up. With a roll of her eyes, Alya asked, "Adrien, you're sober, right?"

Adrien nodded. He'd only had one glass. "I'm fine. I'll take her home with me."

"Alright," Alya said. She flashed him a kind smile. "Hopefully she won't kick you for waking her up. Marinette's so mean when she gets woken up sometimes, it's funny."

"Oh, I'm aware," Adrien laughed. "I live with her, remember?"

Lifting her from the booth with a hand supporting her head, Adrien relished in the warmth of her body heat, his heart picking up its pace she pressed her face against his chest. The roll of thunder greeted the group as they walked outside, and as delicate droplets of water began to careen from the sky, Adrien made haste to get Marinette to his car as quickly as possible.

Her hair was soft against the tips of his knuckles as he supported her head, thin wisps of black tresses that carded through his fingers like silk. The road was dark—the yellow street lamps casting a faint golden glow across Marinette's face as a breeze kissed his back, paired with the chill of pale moonlight—and the fabric of her dress brushed against his hands once he set her down in the back of his car.

Marinette was beautiful. That was no mystery. Adrien had known that since he was fourteen and stumbled into their collège homeroom for the first time, seven years ago and counting. She was breathtaking, really, even when she was angry or upset, or on the rare circumstance, completely wasted in the backseat of his borrowed Maserati.

He shook his head with a smile gracing his lips. She was funny like that, laughing and flirting and throwing her social filter completely in the trash, and he couldn't help but cover a hand over his mouth as he stifled a laugh. He glanced to the backseat to make sure that he hadn't stirred her rest.

Alya approached him from behind and he welcomed the hug she pulled him into, giving her a light squeeze and a promise to see them both again soon. Nino did his best to stand upright as Adrien wrapped his arms around him and bid the pair goodnight.

With his friends gone and Marinette resting in his car, Adrien sat down in the driver's seat and buckled up, glancing toward the rear-view mirror to check on her. She was sitting there with a content expression on her face, which eased his nerves about whether or not she was feeling sick.

He was relieved to see her so deep asleep. She needed her rest; he'd let her sleep the whole way home. He'd hate to be the one to wake her after a grueling last few weeks as one of his father's junior designers. Marinette had been stressed to the point of tears as of late, but he didn't blame her—the summer line was something his father took seriously, and his employees tended to suffer from his "all-work, no-break" attitude.

It made Adrien happy to see her sitting so peacefully in the backseat, red-flushed cheek pressed against the window, which was foggy and cool from the beginning showers of rain outside. Her hair was messy, cascading from the bun it had been so perfectly pulled into just a few hours before, and her eyelashes twitched against her freckles as she dozed, oblivious to the world outside her dreams. It was cute—she was cute.

He hoped she was feeling okay. He hadn't seen her like—like that since last Christmas, when she'd attempted to steal an entire ham. But he hadn't been much better then, either.

At least he was sober now. Unlike his friends, he'd gone light on the drinking tonight. Save for Alya, of course, who was four months pregnant and couldn't swallow a drop of alcohol. But they had fun regardless.

Dinner had tasted great, they'd told jokes and laughed until they couldn't breathe, and Adrien had been able to spend time with his best friend again. He hadn't really realized how much he'd missed Nino until he enveloped him in the tightest bear-hug he could manage, since the last time they'd touched each other was when Nino had left him at the airport before he boarded his flight to California.

It felt so good to have everyone together again. And the fact that Alya and Nino were scouting places to live in the area was even better. Especially since they'd be moving back to Paris just a little while after their daughter was born. Daughter, he had to keep reminding himself, because it was still so surreal that Nino was going to have a baby.

Marinette shifted slightly in the backseat. Glancing back at her, Adrien started up the car, thankful that the engine was quiet. The rain poured on outside as he drove. Gutters were flowing with water, the asphalt slick from the storm that raged above them. Neon lights of shops and restaurants passed by like blurred dots in the night, reflecting in the various puddles that scattered the sidewalks and streets. Most people were inside in this kind of weather—it was past midnight, as well—so the city was calm save for the one or two civilians that hurried by in their umbrellas and rain boots, splashing in the pools as they went.

The drive home was quiet.

As he pulled into their complex, Adrien unbuckled, his bangs blowing from his forehead as he let out a sigh. He'd wait until the rain stopped before he brought Marinette home, he decided. He really didn't care for the idea of waking his friend with a splash of rainwater in the face. She might get sick!

His arms, cold from the air conditioning blasting against his damp skin, wrapped themselves around his body while he sat. The clock on his dash read twelve-forty-five A.M. Sleepiness had long since trickled its way into his eyelids, but Adrien fought it off with a yawn, resting his head against the headrest after a stolen glance at his friend in the backseat. She was still asleep, thankfully—but she did look uncomfortable with her neck turned like that, shoulder against the locked door and lips parted just slightly.

Adrien's face hurt from how wide he smiled.

The rain stopped after about fifteen minutes. Switching off the engine and stuffing his car keys into his pocket, he stood from the vehicle, his foot making contact with a poorly-placed puddle that sent a chill up his spine.

Oh, nice. Now he'd have to dry his shoes outside on the balcony for the night.

He opened the door Marinette was leaning on and caught her before she slipped out of the car. It was surprising, seeing her still deep asleep after she'd nearly fallen into a puddle, but Adrien guessed it shouldn't have been. She'd drank enough to last her all the way until tomorrow—and he knew for a fact Marinette normally didn't drink much. Not around him, at least.

She was light in his arms, the fabric of her dress damp from the trickling raindrops that fell from the overhang of the complex roof as he carried her. A strap began to slide down her shoulder. He fixed it before it could travel too far.

Thankfully there was nobody in the lobby as he carried her through it—he really hadn't been in the mood to explain to wandering eyes why he was carrying an unconscious girl up to his apartment, even if his intentions were purely to put her to bed with some aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand by her side.

The elevator ride was agonizingly slow. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was tuck Marinette in and crash hard into his own bed, pajamas be damned. It was late and he was a little cranky, and he really wanted to take his shoes off, but—

But as Marinette nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, and the tip of her nose grazed the surface of his heated skin with the slightest accidental brush of her lips to his collarbone, he felt over the moon. The night couldn't possibly get any better now, not when she was here with him. Nothing could compare to the giddiness he felt inside.

Her breath was hot against him, warming him with every gentle exhale. It was a welcome change from the rainwater that chilled him to the bone.

The elevator dinged as it hit their floor.

She was so soft, he thought, carrying her effortlessly down the hall. So soft and warm and she smelled so sweet, even as the scent of alcohol tainted her breath. She was soft and she was home here in his arms—at least, she was to him—and nothing had ever felt more right than it did in this moment.

Adrien was happy. Happy to be awake and here with Marinette and happy that he was able to bring her home safely to the warmth of their place, where a clean, cozy bed was awaiting her, beckoning him to place her down in its embrace.

He nearly tripped over the welcome mat as he entered the apartment. He used his shoulder to turn on the living room light so he wasn't fumbling around in the dark with his sleeping friend in his arms, careful to step around the couch instead of slamming his body into it like he'd done one too many times late after work when the lights were off and he didn't want to disturb his Lady.

The trek to her bedroom was a short one. With his foot he opened the door, eyes squinting in the black of the night. His feet navigated blindly around the floor as nothing but the pale moonlight permeated through the curtains that hung in front of the window, white and shining from the glimmer of the moon. With a wince he stepped on something hard and had to force his teeth down on his bottom lip to suppress the curse he so badly wanted to emit.

Damn it, Ladybug, you're always on my ass about cleaning up my shit, he thought, smiling despite himself. There was no way Adrien could stay mad at her.

His fingers combed through Marinette's hair as he leaned over the bed. Palm connected to the back of her head, he lowered her until her shoulders connected with the cushioning of her pillows, allowing her to relax atop the bedsheets. Her hands—so delicate and warm to his touch—were curled into loose fists, and as he trailed his fingers down her bare arm, his cheeks blossomed with color, heart swelling with affection. He sat next to her in the darkness, no light nor sound rising in the air save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

It was strange, how perfectly their hands interlocked—almost as if his large, calloused fingers were meant to fold between her own thin ones. Her knuckles were smooth as he ran his thumb over them, taking in every inch, every detail of the way it felt so simply hold her in his grasp. He moved her bangs away from her eyes, the movement causing his ring to clink against the metal of her earrings—and he smiled, because he knew those earrings. He'd known them for a little while, now. And though the information was still overwhelming, Adrien knew he couldn't be more excited with what he'd learned.

His heart was erratic in his chest. Breathing in, he gave her hand a squeeze before he stood from her bed and began to exit her room, but he paused in her doorway to glance back at her one last time.

"Night, Ladybug," he said to her. "Sleep well."

Then he shut her door, switched out the hall light, and went to bed.

Chapter Text

Adrien couldn't sleep.

He hadn’t meant to figure it out.

Her parents. The cake. Her dress.

The ghost of peppermint tea on her breath as he lay next to her that night, mapping the freckles on her weary face while she dreamt of sweet slices of her favorite dessert.

His suspicions first arose when the sound of her parents’ voices woke him from a peaceful slumber, but he’d thought nothing of it except that it was a mere coincidence how similar they sounded to Tom and Sabine. 

The cake, a pleasant gift from her folks, was another weird coincidence… As was when Ladybug mentioned strawberry was her favorite flavor, which just so happened to also be Marinette's. He had convinced himself that it was nothing more than chance. Strawberry was a popular enough flavor. Surely it wasn’t a dead giveaway that something was amiss?

Their time spent together at the laundromat hadn’t struck him as anything more than a simple evening helping his friend, but then his fingers—traitors that they were—plucked at an overly familiar cotton T-shirt, the graphic printed on front making his eyes practically bulge out of his head. As he held it in his grasp, Adrien had felt his stomach plummet to the bottom of his shoes, willing a unsteady smile to his face while his hands held up the limited edition Mecha Strike shirt that, coincidentally, Ladybug had worn to bed the night before.

It had been hard to remain calm at that point. Still though, he’d told himself, Mecha Strike was a very popular video game franchise. Ladybug and Marinette could both be fans. Maybe they’d both been lucky enough to acquire the exact same shirt. They both adored the game and were extremely skilled at it; it wouldn't be too strange for them to own the same shirt… In the same size...

(It was so obvious. It was so, so obvious and yet he’d done everything in his power to keep convincing himself that it wasn’t, that he was still clueless because he wanted to be, because he couldn’t betray Ladybug’s trust by finding out her identity.)

But then she’d worn the dress. That damn red dress that had fit her so well and looked so beautiful on her as she stood in his doorway absolutely ethereal, bidding him goodnight as if he didn't know where she was going, as if he didn't already know who she was. 

As if he wouldn't recognize Marinette's blue, blue eyes behind that fake Ladybug mask she sported so proudly.

She loved strawberry cake. 

She and Marinette worked the same hours. 

She lived in the same building as him. 

Adrien laughed. He laughed because there was nothing else he could do besides cry. Crying wouldn't help him right now. 

Gripping his pillow in his hands so hard that his knuckles turned white, Adrien shoved his face into its cool surface, muffling the whine that forced its way out of his body. He resisted the urge to kick his legs against his mattress despite how badly the built up energy in his muscles wanted to explode in a fit of screams.

He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to be respectful and keep her identity out of his mind. He had wanted Ladybug to have been asleep in his bed while Marinette got tea, he wanted—

He—

It didn't matter what he wanted. Life never gave Adrien what he desired... Why would it start now?

It just wasn't realistic. 

Oh, well, he thought, attempting to calm his frayed nerves. Secrets can't last forever, can they?

(This one was supposed to. This one wasn’t allowed to escape from its tightly locked box that they had done so well to keep contained for seven whole years.)

But accidents happen and this was one accident Adrien wasn’t sure how to keep wrapped inside his mind. The notion of telling his partner that he knew her identity hissed like a venomous, coiled snake, giving warning before striking a deadly poison in their relationship. It could very well ruin what friendship they had built up over the years like a hemotoxin to flesh, burning away until the contaminant reached its core: 

Their partnership.

And he really, really didn’t want that to happen.

He dragged his fingers down his face, a loud, frustrated groan ripping its way through his throat. The slight sting of pain as he tugged at his blonde hair, mussed from his anxiety-induced ministrations, grounded him momentarily as he took a second to breathe, breathe, breathe.

Ladybug was sleeping. Reminding himself to be quiet, Adrien turned over onto his back, the sheets of his bed wrinkled beyond repair from his restlessness.

He stared at the ceiling. It had been dark out for hours. The sun was just now beginning to peek its way through his curtains, turning the sky a dull, frosty blue. His eyes, heavy from lack of sleep, quickly glanced at the clock on his nightstand. A mistake—his stress increased tenfold. It was so late… Or early, he supposed, and though he wasn’t usually one to allow his aggravation to breach the surface a curse rose from his lips anyway.

It was nearly six in the morning. He had been awake all night.

His fingers brushed his forehead as he combed his bangs to the side, the blonde strands damp with perspiration.

Okay. Okay. He had to figure this out. What was he going to do?

He couldn’t just pretend that everything was normal when it clearly wasn’t. Despite how badly he wanted things to go back to their loosely defined version of "normal," Adrien knew they could never return to their sense of normalcy, not with the information that danced around in his brain and taunted him like a sick joke. He had unintentionally—irreparably—changed their relationship forever. Whether or not it was for the better, well… He wouldn't know until he mustered up the courage to break the news to his partner. 

How would she take it, he wondered? Would she be upset? Sad? Angry? 

Would she be glad...? To know it was him?

Adrien sighed. The worst part of the whole situation wasn’t that he’d put their relationship in a precarious position or even that he would somehow have to break this news to Ladybug, sooner rather than later. The worst part was that he was happy. Ecstatic, even. 

Guilt rattled his brain. How could he be happy when he had discovered Ladybug's most well kept secret? They had only moved in together on the premise that they would be careful and here he was, figuring out her identity—their number one rule not to break—barely two months into living together. 

But… How could he not be happy? Ladybug was Marinette. Marinette was Ladybug. His crushes were one and the same. Though "crush" was too loose a term for how he felt about Ladybug, and perhaps too strong of a term to be appropriate for how he felt about Marinette.

(Was it, though? He had liked her well enough in lycée… And spending time with her as of late had begun to brew something warm and fuzzy in his chest, leaving him unable to deny the fact that whenever he saw her smiling face, it would make his day instantly ten times better.

Okay. So maybe it was a crush. But that didn't matter right now.)

The nights he'd tossed and turned… Hours spent drowning in his inner turmoil were all for naught. Every headache that had tormented him and stirred his emotions like some convoluted, disorganized soup had been for nothing. He had constantly fretted over which girl he liked more, which girl would he have a better chance with, which girl he could see himself marrying someday—

And it had all boiled down to them being one and the same. 

Of course. Of course. He smacked a palm to his face.

He knew he wasn’t stupid. He’d gotten it right from the very beginning. If only he could have seen it then, then maybe...

Maybe he wouldn’t have been so against the idea of finding out who his partner was. Adrien had been so desperate to find any crack in his revelation that he’d jumped at the opportunity to believe that no, wait, they weren’t actually one and the same, when in fact Ladybug was—

Marinette was—

A wave of nausea hit him like a freight train. Ugh. He’d drank so little and yet still the anxiety pooling in his gut was making him feel like he was stuck on a boat in the middle of a typhoon. The urge to throw up was almost as strong as the urge to scream.

But his head hurt. He was so tired. And most importantly, he did not want to wake Ladybug.

(Marinette.)

He needed more time to think this over. What if he was wrong?

(He wasn't.)

What if it was all just a bunch of really specific coincidences?

(They weren't.)

What if—

This was pointless. 

Despite the apprehension that had been steadily rising within him, a smile began to creep along Adrien's face. These past few weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions and he was exhausted from the stress of it all but to him it was all worth it in the end. His great friend (or newly renowned crush), his partner, both the same under the mask? Nothing could compare to how overjoyed that made him.

…The only problem that remained was actually telling Ladybug.

(Wait, did he call her Ladybug or Marinette now? Or both? Maribug? Buginette? Wait-)

A thud came from across the hall, snapping Adrien out of his reverie. A thud that sounded suspiciously like a body falling onto the hardwood floor.

Lifting his head from his pillow, Adrien stood, hastily throwing his mask on his face—which at this point was mostly out of habit—before he walked over to knock on Ladybug's (Marinette's) door.

"LB?" he called, swallowing down the spark of alarm that had jolted his body awake. "You alright?"

Silence.

Adrien worried at his bottom lip, teeth nibbling at the skin. 

Should he go in? No, she wouldn't be wearing her mask… But that didn't matter, he knew who she was, though she didn't know that…

He tried again. "LB?"

A whimper came from her room, followed by her voice. It was barely audible through the closed door. "I fell out of bed."

So that's what that noise was.

"Do you need help?" Adrien asked.

More silence. 

He heard shuffling, then footsteps. Footsteps that were getting closer and closer to the door in quick succession. Backing up just in time, Marinette burst out of her bedroom in a flash, making a break for the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. The noises that followed were more than unpleasant and Adrien winced as he heard his partner emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

Oh, man. She really had drank too much last night...

He gave her a moment before gently rapping on the bathroom door. "Hey, you okay?"

"Do I sound okay?" came the responding grumble, his partner's voice weak and raspy from the dryness of her throat. 

Adrien felt for her. Being hungover was never an enjoyable experience. For him it almost always resulted in stomach upset, which unfortunately seemed to be the same when it came to Marinette.

What could he do to help her? Maybe make her breakfast? No, not if she's nauseous… Run her a bath? Get her some water and Tylenol?

"Do you need anything?" he offered, his heart reaching out to her as she coughed and gagged.

"My mask," she gasped. "In- in my room. I need it." She paused for a moment; he could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she asked in the meekest voice he'd ever heard come from someone as strong-willed as Ladybug, "...Did you see my face when I ran out the door?"

Adrien swallowed. 

He swallowed hard.

He had to tell her. She deserved to know. 

His heart pounded in his chest, his head spinning and spinning until he felt so dizzy that he, too, feared he might end up sick to his stomach.

“Um,” he said, intelligently, “Uh.”

Was now the best time to tell her? She obviously wasn't doing well and he didn't want to make her worse by dropping that bomb on her first thing in the morning when no doubt she was feeling like a pile of trash. No… This required planning—a proper moment to discuss their situation was absolutely necessary rather than making a spur of the moment decision that would almost certainly cause a rift between them.

So, he gritted his teeth, biting back the squeal of discomfort that wanted to escape from his mouth. "No," he replied. The word came out strangled and wrong, burning his tongue on its way out and making it difficult for him to swallow.  

Adrien felt despicable. The guilt swirled inside him and clutched at his chest, his lungs tightening until he felt like he couldn't breathe.

"No," he said again with more confidence, the disgusting lie burrowing a deeper hole into their friendship. He took a breath, pressing his forehead to the closed door and forced his eyes to slip to the floor, feeling so, so heavy. "I'll… I'll go grab your mask."

His shoulders slouched as he walked back to her room like a disobedient dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

Her mask sat on her pillow next to a dark mascara stain. Adrien held it in his trembling grasp, his thumb smoothing over the red fabric. Quietly, painfully, he carried it out of her room. What was supposed to be a lightweight accessory felt like lead in his hands.

Lying was normally so easy. Growing up, lying was practically a requirement of living in the Agreste household, so he’d become accustomed to it all too easily. Being Chat Noir adjusted him to fibbing even more than usual in order to keep his civilian identity a secret. It made for a nasty habit as an adult, but at this point in his life it was like second nature. He lied so often that most days he couldn't recall what parts of his life were true or false.

So why—why did he feel so… Gross? 

Adrien gave another knock on the bathroom door, attempting to quell the nerves that muddled in his gut by taking a long, deep breath.

It didn’t work.

The door squeaked open a crack. A pale hand reached out, delicate skin brushing against his own as his partner retrieved her mask from his hands. “Thank you,” came the responding rasp. The door clicked shut in front of him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, kitty.”

The corners of Adrien’s mouth inched downward. 

You’d still have your secret to yourself, that’s what, he thought bitterly, the taste of deception sour on his tongue.

Adrien kept quiet. Nothing but the sound of a flushing toilet and running sink came from their shared bathroom. He shut his eyes, counting to one, two, three, holding his breath as he steadied himself to face her, because— 

Because how could he?

How could he pretend that he didn’t know?

He wanted to tell her, to scoop her up and spin her around and kiss her, to tell her that he was so happy that it’s her, that he loves her for who she is and that he wouldn’t choose anyone else in the world to be his partner and very best friend. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for figuring it out. He wanted to hug her and tell her that it’s okay, we’ll figure this out together, because we always do, because we’re partners and we could take on the world if we wanted to.

The door crawled open. Adrien kept his gaze trained on the floor. 

A hand brushed his shoulder, startling him enough to make him flinch away from the contact. His heart skipped a beat. Snapping his eyes up to meet those of his roommate, Adrien exhaled, freeing the air that he’d been storing in his lungs.

Well… There she was.

“Hi,” she said, and she looked so devastatingly beautiful even with the disheveled dress, messy hair and dark bags under her eyes. Even after she’d been a mess in the bathroom he still couldn’t help but be absolutely mesmerized by her. That was his Lady; his partner; his Marinette, and he still couldn’t believe he got to wake up to her face every day like his wildest dreams had come true.

“Hi,” he responded, breathless. “Are you okay?”

Marinette sighed, raising a hand gently to her forehead. Her mask, though it fit snugly on her face, was slightly crooked. “I have a migraine,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be alright though. It’s not the worst hangover I’ve ever felt. I, um… I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay.”

He saw her swallow, her eyes retreating to the skirt of her dress as she attempted (and failed) to smooth its wrinkles. “You’re sure you didn’t see my face? I ran out of my room pretty fast and—”

“I’m sure,” he cut in, voice strained as his pitch rose an octave. “Would I lie to you, Ladybug?”

Fuck.

The fib that had dug a hole between them was growing into a disgusting, endless trench of deceit.

Marinette’s responding smile was so bright it burned him like a cigarette branding his skin. She patted his cheek lovingly. “Thank you,” she said, so much sweeter than he deserved. Disappearing into her doorway, Marinette breathed out a sigh and flopped back onto her bed, the mattress bouncing slightly from her contact. Her sheets were mused and her pink blanket hung halfway off her bed.

“Don’t you want to change?” Adrien found himself asking, eyes unable to tear themselves away from that damn wine red dress he both loved and hated so much.

Marinette hummed, exhaustion dragging at her voice. “Later.”

His hands twitched at his sides. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Water, please.”

He nodded. Retreating to the kitchen, Adrien found solace in the few seconds of silence. Filling a glass of cool, crisp water for his partner was a welcome momentary distraction from the chaos erupting in his head.

She thanked him, as she always did, and he sat at the foot of her bed with his head hung low looking just as miserable as he felt.

Why did he always have to ruin things?

His father had made it obvious that’s all he was ever good for. Adrien just wished it weren’t true.

“Are you okay?” came Ladybug’s voice, so full of concern for him despite that she was the one feeling ill. That was just who she was as a person, so kind and caring and selfless, and Adrien wanted to cry because of course he had to be the opposite of everything that made her so wonderfully herself.

He forced a smile to his face though he knew it wasn’t a lick convincing. “Yeah. Just… Tired, I guess. Didn’t sleep last night.”

Marinette went to sit up but quickly lowered herself back to her pillows, her eyes squeezed shut as she fought off a wave of dizziness. “Why?”

Why.

Adrien suppressed the acrid laugh that almost escaped his body. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her, unsure of whether he was trying to reassure his partner or himself. 

Patting the spot next to her, Marinette offered him a warm smile. “Come talk to me. I promise I won’t throw up on you.” 

Despite everything, Adrien chuckled. He adjusted his position so that he was lying on his back next to her, and even though she placed her hand over his own, he couldn’t meet her eyes. The aroma of hours-old perfume filled his nostrils and he resisted the urge to roll over, grab her in his arms, and breathe her in.

The scent was Marinette’s perfume. The perfume she’d worn every day since he’d talked to her for the first time in five whole months. The perfume he spent practically every work shift around when Marinette was by his side.

It really was no surprise how easily he’d guessed it, huh?

“I’m fine,” he insisted. 

“You won’t look at me.”

He did then, but only for a moment. It was too easy to get lost in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Marinette frowned. He could see the confusion warping her expression. “Tell me what’s wrong, kitty.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing if you can’t even look at me,” she sighed, and that’s when her eyes widened, so blue and yet so full of anxiety that Adrien was surprised it didn’t make her flinch from the pain of her migraine. “Oh, my god. Did we do something last night while I was drunk? Is that why you can’t look at me? Did we—”

“No!” he yelped as he threw himself upright, his voice cracking. “No, no! I promise. I would never let that happen.” He squeezed her hands in his own and this time he held her gaze, locking it strongly within his own because holy shit. “That’s not what this is about. Nothing like that happened, I’d never…”

He’d never what? Do anything to betray her trust? Because he was already strutting down that path like it was a road on Easy Street.

(Though, withholding information from her was a lot different from… that. And he’d never stoop that low.)

“Then…” Ladybug pulled her hands away. She grasped at her sheets. He could see the worry clouding her face as she wracked her mind for what she could have possibly done wrong. “Why are you mad at me?”

His heart shattered in his chest.

Oh, Ladybug.

Vigorously Adrien shook his head. Turning his body to the side so he could properly see her, Adrien took one look at her pitiful expression and nearly broke down right there. The sight was painful—all he ever wanted was to make her smile, to make her laugh, and here he was ruining things as usual by making her sad—by making her think that this was all her doing when it was completely, entirely him.

He was making her feel that way. All because he wasn’t brave enough to tell her what she of all people deserved to know.

“I’m not mad at you,” he reassured her, placing a delicate kiss on her knuckles. “I could never be mad at you, Ladybug. It’s just…” 

His heart was nearly pounding out of his chest.

“...Never mind,” he sighed, absolutely hating himself from head to toe. 

Marinette was quiet. Really quiet. With those perfect pink lips pulled down into a frown, she trailed her hand up from his own to cup his cheek, her thumb caressing slow, gentle circles into his skin. He leaned into the touch like it was a balm for his wounds, his own hand rising up to cover her knuckles. Her fingers were so soft, and as always, her nails—which had been another clue in his long list of suspicions—were painted pink.

“Chat Noir,” she began. He smiled at the kindness in her voice, wondering if it would taste as sweet as it sounded. “You can tell me anything. I’ll be honest, I don’t really remember what happened after I got home last night. I don’t even remember how I got home in the first place. If I said something, or if something happened, you know you can tell me… Right?”

“You didn’t do anything,” he responded, a bit too quickly. “This is all me, Ladybug. It’s something I have to work out on my own.”

“But you don’t have to,” she said. “We’re partners, remember?”

“I know.”

“And you don’t have to tell me right now,” she continued, “but I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Even if I kinda smell and look like a drowned rat.”

He laughed at that. “You do not.”

“Don’t lie for my sake,” she said, her own laughter—as quiet as it was—making him feel lighter inside. “But seriously. Whatever is bothering you… Even if you can’t talk about it now, I’ll be here to listen. Just, uh—” she glanced at the bathroom. “—forgive me if I need to take a moment to throw up every now and then.”

He patted her hand. “You’re forgiven.”

“But seriously,” she said after a moment. “I mean it when I say you can tell me anything. I trust you more than anyone, and I’d hope you feel the same way about me.”

The knife that was stuck in his heart twisted and dug deeper into his flesh. Adrien could practically feel the blood spatter on his hands.

His voice hitched as he buried his face in her neck. “I do.”

They laid like that for a few minutes, wrapped in each other as if they were anchored together. It gave Adrien some much-needed time to think. He began to rub soothing circles onto Ladybug’s back as she lamented about her headache, and he spoke in soft, hushed tones in an attempt to comfort her. He stayed there with her, clinging onto her form like she was his lifeline until she dozed off, her face a pure picture of peace, and she was so beautiful that he had to resist the urge to brush away the loose strands of her bangs and place a kiss on her forehead. 

She was all he’d ever wanted. He craved her love so badly that it hurt.

But he didn’t deserve it. Not when he was keeping such a huge secret from her. Not like this.

Not with him.

He left her in her bed with a glass of water, some painkillers, and a clean pair of clothes folded neatly on top of her sheets for her to change into when she was ready. The limited edition Mecha Strike shirt sat proudly on top as a painful reminder that he wasn’t brave enough; that he couldn’t even muster up the courage to tell her the one thing she deserved to know most of all.

Shutting her door behind him, Adrien slid down until he connected with the floor and buried his head in his hands.

What was he going to do?

Chapter Text

Adrien was avoiding her.

All day Marinette had attempted to reach out to him. Work was dragging on painfully slow despite how busy of a season it was, her anxieties causing every minute to feel like an hour. Three times now he had blown her off with some lame excuse about how he had to go to the bathroom or go get fitted or run an errand for his father and she was starting to become a little more than irritated.

She first mentioned wanting to take their lunch break together, but Adrien had swiftly (yet politely) declined, stating he had to meet up with his father for lunch to discuss their summer line. Which made sense to her at the time—Gabriel was the type of father to turn his son's lunch break into business—but now… she wasn't so sure. 

He had also refused her offer to get coffee after work. Normally Adrien loved getting coffee with her—he’d order something sickly sweet like a latte with extra cream and extra, extra sugar. She would always poke fun at him for ruining the coffee, while he would joke about hers not being sweet enough. It was one of their favorite spots to hangout, especially after a long, grueling day working in the fashion industry. Adrien had never refused before, but… apparently he “had somewhere to be,” despite that she’d overheard him talking to another model about having no plans for the evening. Why was he lying?

He wouldn't even have a conversation with her. All he could do was offer a noncommittal response or worse: flee, and that was simultaneously pissing her off and making her feel completely, utterly insignificant, crushing her deep on the inside like she was a used soda can.

It was aggravating. It was… depressing.

What had she done to warrant this type of behavior? Was it because of how she had acted at dinner the other night? He'd seen her drunk before, and in far worse of a state than she had been. Did she say something or do something to make him feel uncomfortable?

"He won't even talk to me," she lamented to Alya over the phone, angrily stabbing an innocent leaf of romaine lettuce with her fork. She shoved it into her mouth aggressively. The breeze outside was cool as she sat on the outdoor terrace of Gabriel, hastily devouring her lunch during the brief break she could allow herself. "What did I do? We just started speaking again and now I'm afraid I've messed everything up." She repressed the whine that wanted to rise from her throat, swallowing it down with another bite of her caesar salad. "Did I say something to freak him out last Friday?"

Alya hummed through the speaker. "I don't think so," she said. "I mean, you guys were acting a lot closer than usual, kind of hanging off of each other a little bit, but nothing strange really comes to mind."

"Then why —" she paused to chew a crouton like the damn bit of a dry bread was the bane of her existence, "—is he avoiding me?"

"Maybe he's just busy, 'Nette," Alya replied. "I mean, it's hectic time of the year in your line of work right now. His mind might just be occupied elsewhere."

"Maybe…" Marinette frowned. It wasn't like Adrien to avoid his friends… but maybe Alya was right. He could just be preoccupied. He was Gabriel's best model and son after all, and the summer fashion line was just about show-ready. Adrien was probably being pulled in all sorts of directions, every second of every day. She felt a touch guilty for assuming his avoidance was purposeful. "Maybe you're right. He's probably stressed."

"Look, how about you ask him to hang out with us tonight? We can go out or something, I don't know," Alya said. "It might help distract you both. I know the two of you are working your butts off right now."

Marinette nodded, though Alya couldn't see it. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, that's a good idea. But what if he says no?"

"Then I'll come over to your place and drag him out myself."

Laughing, Marinette smiled, thankful her best friend knew exactly how to cheer her up. It felt so good to have Alya back in Paris, even if it was only for a little while. The idea of being able to see her again made her feel giddy.

Her phone beeped with a reminder that her lunch break was over. Tossing her trash into a bin, Marinette walked back into the building through its large, oppressive glass doors and heaved a sigh. The day was halfway over. Only a few more hours to go.

"I'll catch you later, Alya. Duty calls," she said, bidding her friend goodbye. "I'll let you know what he says."

"Bye girl," Alya said. "Have fun."

She had no luck tracking Adrien down after her break. In fact, she went through the rest of her work day without a single glimpse of him, her heart sinking each time she entered a room and he was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere in the halls, not in any of the offices, not in the studio or even his dressing room. 

Where was he? 

She could call him. Text him. But maybe he didn't want to be bothered by anyone.

(Maybe he didn't want to be bothered by her.)

She had given up by the time she clocked out for the evening. Shoulders slumped and head hung low, Marinette sighed, resigning herself to the lonesome pit she felt in her stomach. The sun was still shining outside, the summer season allowing it to burn brighter for longer hours of the day. Its warmth should've been comforting—a reminder that despite everything, life still continued—but she couldn't muster up the energy to find the positive twist on her situation. Her mind was too preoccupied with anxiety. The walk home was spent ruminating over every little thing her brain could scrounge up from Friday night, mulling over the most minute details and wondering what she could have possibly said to Adrien to cause him to act that way toward her when, to the best of her knowledge, she'd done absolutely nothing wrong.

...Or maybe he was just busy like Alya said, and she was reading way too far into it because it wasn’t at all like Adrien to act so terse. He wasn’t rude. He never blew off his friends. Adrien was far too kind to do anything that could potentially hurt someone he cared about.

Truthfully, if Marinette had to admit it, she had been feeling a tad dejected lately. Perhaps the neglect she had been feeling at home was beginning to bleed over into her civilian life, since Adrien wasn't the only one acting strange lately.

Chat Noir had been drawn back the past two days. He walked around their apartment like his head was lost in a fog, spaced and quiet. Over the weekend he had seldom spoken to her at all. Marinette could tell there was something going on with him—she'd always been very in tune to her partner's emotions—but he refused to utter a word about what was bothering him, no matter how many times she insisted that he could talk to her about anything. It wasn't like him to be so silent.

(Unless whatever was going on with him was too personal to talk about without sharing explicit details, but… that had never stopped him before.)

Her heart wilted as she unlocked the door to her empty apartment. She dropped her purse onto the floor next to the entrance and heaved a large, weary sigh, allowing her back to slip down the door frame until she sat on the hardwood floor. All the lights were off. Chat Noir wasn't home.

"Boys," she hissed, a grumble sneaking past her lips. "I hate them, Tikki. What's their problem?"

Her kwami flitted out of her purse, antennae twitching sympathetically. She situated herself on Marinette's shoulder and offered a frown. "I'm sorry you're feeling frustrated," she said, nuzzling her affectionately. "Maybe you should give Adrien a call? I'm sure he's just been busy! I don't think he would do anything to hurt you on purpose, Marinette."

Marinette shrugged. "I don't know. He might want to be left alone."

"You won't know for sure unless you try."

She held her phone in her hands, her reflection in the black screen staring back at her like some alternate of herself, daring her to make the first move. With her teeth pulling on her bottom lip she unlocked the screen and pulled up Adrien's contact profile. Unsure, Marinette turned her eyes to Tikki in a silent question, her kwami nodding in encouragement. 

Marinette whined before pressing the call button, her fingers fidgeting against the floor in an attempt to let loose some of the nervous energy that ran through her body.

The line was ringing. She held her breath.

It kept ringing. And ringing. 

Then it stopped and went to his voicemail.

Marinette buried her head in her knees and accepted defeat. "Fine," she mumbled bitterly. "Be that way." 

The gentle touch of Tikki placing a paw on her cheek was a brief comfort as Marinette slipped deeper into her pit of sorrow. 

Whatever. No use wallowing. If Adrien didn't want to talk with her, that was his problem. She wasn't going to sit around moping like some hopeless, love-struck teenage girl. It wasn’t her job to worry about whether or not Adrien would get over himself and speak to her. She could still spend the night with Alya and Nino. They could go out and have fun without bothering themselves with useless worries over boys. Maybe they could see a movie or get dinner somewhere like—

Her ringtone was so loud and jarring that she yelped.

Her phone was ringing. Someone was calling her.

Marinette dove for her cellphone like a fish breaching water, fumbling with it in her hands and nearly cracking it on the ground—again—as she haphazardly raced to answer it. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she finally was able to hold it still in her grasp, eyes bulging at the name of the caller I.D.

It was Adrien.

Adrien was calling her back.

“Tikki, what do I do?” she wailed, one hand gripping her phone and the other scratching at the floor, digging her nails into the wood as if it would quell the inner panic that was now spilling out of her in waves. “Do I answer? Do I ignore it? Maybe he’s calling me by accident! A butt-dial! I shouldn’t answer!”

The kwami sighed, regarding her charge with a flat look before pressing the “accept call” button on the screen.

Marinette bit back the inhuman screech that nearly erupted from her body. 

She took a breath before pulling her phone closer to her face. “H-hello?” she said, finally pushing herself up to stand again. She paced around the living room. Her head felt light with anxiety.

“Hey,” came Adrien’s voice, so warm and inviting and—

Well… actually, he sounded really exhausted.

“Hey,” she replied. She pressed a hand to her chest to steady her heartbeat. “Um.”

Adrien was quiet.

“Sorry to bother you,” Marinette continued, feeling the embarrassment creep through her skin. “Alya, Nino and I were wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight.”

It was awkward. Oh, god it was so, so awkward. Why couldn’t the earth just swallow her whole? 

“Oh,” Adrien said, and he sounded so distracted and uninterested that Marinette wanted to reach through her phone and grip him by the collar and ask him what his problem was. “Um. Sorry. I can’t tonight.”

Marinette wilted. She wasn’t sure what to say. “Okay,” was all she could muster, bidding him goodbye and sliding her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. 

Okay.

She stood there for a moment too long, head dizzy as she processed what had just transpired.

He… He said no. She really hadn’t expected…

“Marinette?” Tikki asked. “Are you okay?” 

She hovered in front of Marinette’s eyes, but all Marinette saw was a blur of red as she stared deep into the wall across the room. Her focus was on nothing in particular except the dull, lifeless feeling that settled in her stomach. She dragged herself to her bedroom like a zombie, throwing her jacket onto the floor before flopping unceremoniously onto her bed.

Don’t cry, she told herself, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Tikki buzzed over to pat her head, pressing her tiny cheek against Marinette’s hair and humming sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Marinette,” she said, her voice quiet. “I wish I knew what to tell you.”

“It’s okay, Tikki,” she sighed. “Maybe I’m just overreacting.” 

Yet still Marinette’s thoughts raced back to Friday night, sifting through what little memories she could pull from their night out at the restaurant in an attempt to decipher what could have possibly flipped the shit switch on her and Adrien’s friendship.

She remembered meeting Alya and Nino at the front, sitting next to Adrien at the booth, drinking a little too much and crying in the bathroom, and then talking to Adrien about…

What did they talk about?

(Had she called him beautiful, or was that just a dream?)

“I just don’t understand,” Marinette said, sorrow lacing the edge of her tone. “I don’t know what I could have said to him to make him feel like he can’t talk to me. I mean, it’s not like I told him I like him, or that I wanted to—”

Her eyes snapped open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no.

She remembered.

“Oh,” she gasped, sitting bolt upright in her bed. “Oh! I asked him to kiss me, oh god!”

It all made sense now! She’d freaked him out! Her stupid, drunken, smitten self had gotten too carried away with the confidence of alcohol in her system and she’d gone and been weird, putting a damper on their friendship that they’d only just repaired!

Their fake relationship had really gone to her head…

She had to apologize. She had to make things right!

Throwing herself from her bed and out of her short-lived depressive episode, Marinette slipped her shoes back on, preparing to bolt out of her apartment and right back down to Gabriel with the goal of grabbing Adrien by his hand, pulling him to the side and cleaning up the mess she’d made, but—

But just as she placed her fingers on the door handle she was met with the sound of keys jingling in the lock, and for a brief moment panicked as she remembered that she had a roommate who couldn’t see her face in case of the off chance that she was someone he knew. 

Dashing back to her room, Marinette tripped, her body colliding with the floor and sliding down the hall. She didn’t notice the pain, however, too preoccupied with nose-diving into her bedroom to retrieve the spotted red mask she kept on her nightstand and shoving it on her face a mere second before Chat Noir walked through the door.

“I heard a thud from outside,” he said, the concern in his voice making Marinette roll her eyes. Shouldn’t he know by now how terribly clumsy she was? “What happened?”

“Nothing!” she replied, standing quickly and brushing off her thighs. She poked her head out from her bedroom to look at her partner, who appeared disheveled; his hair was messier than usual and his clothes wrinkled, which was unlike him—usually his clothing was the one thing besides his appearance that he kept perfectly manicured. 

Wow, he… He really didn’t look well. So much for the playfully rude response she’d been preparing.

“Chat?” she asked gently. “You okay, bud?”

He snapped his head up as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay.”

“Oh,” he said, forcing a smile to his face that she could tell was fake because whenever Chat Noir faked his smiles, they never reached his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I’m good. Just tired.”

Marinette scowled, unconvinced. He’d been “just tired” for the past three days, now. 

He walked past her to his room. She tried to push down the sting of pain she felt jab at her heart.

Not accepting another night of being brushed off like she didn’t even exist, Marinette leaned in his doorway, watching as he combed his fingers through his loose, blonde strands. She did her best to conceal the annoyance she knew painted her face.

“Long day at work?” she asked.

“You could say that,” he said, the exhaustion weighing on his voice.

“Want to talk about it?”

No reply.

She bit her lip to suppress the annoyed click of her teeth. Reminding herself not to take it personally, she took a steady breath, knowing that sometimes people just have bad days and that’s okay but it still didn’t mean he had to ignore her like that.

“Chat Noir,” she repeats. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Um… Not really.”

Still he wouldn’t look her in her eyes and it was getting so fucking infuriating she was about to just slam his door and leave, previous sympathies be gone.

Marinette focused on the steady beat of her pulse before speaking again. “Is it because you don’t want to talk about it, or you don’t want to talk to me about it?”

He glanced at her for such a fleeting moment that she’d barely caught it, but she still saw those green eyes that used to be so full of mirth turn away from her like she was some sort of pain to look at and that’s what finally set her off.

“What’s your problem?” Marinette snapped, feeling her irritation with both him and Adrien finally bubbling over the surface and coming out in a heated explosion that she knew would cause more harm than good. “Why are you acting like this lately?”

Chat flinched, his gaze diverting to her as he stared at her with wide eyes, alarmed. “What?”

She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. “You’re acting so strange lately,” she continued, the sourness in her tone still prevalent. “Like you can’t even stand to look at me anymore, much less be in the same room as me. What have I done to make you upset with me? Tell me, Chat Noir, because I can't stand being ignored anymore."

Her partner was quick to reply. “I’m not upset,” he insisted, and she could see that he was doing his best to keep his composure despite her outburst. He must have seen she was unconvinced, because he added, “I’m not upset at you, M- Ladybug.”

“Then quit acting like it!” She knew she was being unreasonable. She knew that Chat Noir did not respond well to anger, that it would only make him shut down. She knew he didn’t deserve to be at the forefront of her frustration but she just couldn’t take it anymore. Marinette wanted to be able to exist in her own home without being afraid that she’d done something wrong! She was tired of the boys in her life completely ignoring her and after how Adrien had acted around her today, she was fed up!

If only Chat would just talk to her, then maybe—

“I’m sorry.”

Marinette paused, holding back the fiery retort that so badly wanted to spill from her mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” Chat said again, and this time he looked at her—really looked at her, and she could see so much exhaustion and guilt in his eyes that it made all the anger inside her wash away like rainwater down a drainpipe. “I didn’t mean… It’s just… You didn’t do anything, Ladybug. This is all me. I’m just… Having a hard time right now.”

She felt despicable. The tension in her muscles melted away, cooling the fiery rage she felt inside and replacing it with deep-seated remorse. Immediately her expression changed, face relaxing into a state of calmness. Of course she had to go and assume the worst when his aloofness probably didn’t even have anything to do with her... 

“No,” she said, and she was by his side so quickly that it startled him, his wide, green eyes full of alarm. She didn’t care—she wrapped her arms around him like they belonged there, enveloping him in such a tight hug that even she found it hard to breathe. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

He buried his head in her neck, nuzzling the skin at her collarbone. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have been avoiding you.”

That caused her to pull back. She met his eyes with her own, a frown pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You were avoiding me?”

Chat Noir grew tense under her touch. “Uh… Maybe a little.”

Unable to mask the hurt in her face, Marinette leaned back, keeping her hands on her partner’s shoulders as she tilted her head to the side. “Why?” she asked, the sorrow in her voice embarrassing yet unable to be repressed.

“It’s hard to explain,” he said. “I don’t really know how to talk about it.”

"Can you try?" she asked. 

Chat Noir hummed in response, adjusting himself so that he sat up straight. "Can I ask you for some advice?" he said instead, and though Marinette was a bit peeved that he was avoiding the subject, she nodded anyway. "What would you do if… If you found out something about someone that changed your perception of them forever?"

Her nose wrinkled in thought. "For better or for worse?"

"For better."

"Then…" She paused to ruminate on that thought, her head feeling a little dizzy from the whiplash of their conversation’s sudden change in tone. "Then I don't think I'd worry about it, to be honest. If it makes me appreciate that person more, why overthink it?”

Chat Noir looked away. "What if you weren't supposed to know? What if… What if the fact that you found out made the other person mad?"

Marinette's lips quirked upward into a small smile. "Did you piss someone off, kitty?"

"Not yet," he said. "But I think I may have been hurting them unintentionally."

"How?"

Chat Noir ran a hand down his face and let out a groan. "I was dumb and avoided her all day at work because I'm too afraid to tell her what I know about her."

Marinette frowned. "Why are you afraid?"

"Because if she finds out I'm keeping a really important secret from her it's going to make her feel betrayed," he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth in quick succession. "But every time I try to work up the guts to tell her I panic, and the longer I let this go on the harder it's going to be to tell her and now every time I look at her all I feel is this overwhelming guilt to the point where I can't even talk to her anymore without feeling horrible so I've just been avoiding her, but now I’m afraid she thinks I don’t like her anymore and I just don’t know what to do!"

Woah. Marinette blinked in surprise at his honesty.

That… was a lot. 

(And sounded suspiciously very familiar.)

"Who is this about, Chat Noir?" Marinette asked, because she was growing increasingly uncomfortable with how hard his story was beginning to hit home.

"It's…" he paused, taking a moment to consider his thoughts. "My coworker."

"...Your coworker," she repeated. Why was she not entirely convinced?

"How do I stop feeling horrible?" he asked, and for the first time in ages Marinette heard his voice crack, breaking with the threat of tears. "How do I tell you- how do I tell her without her hating me?"

She looked away, idly rubbing slow, gentle circles into her partner’s back. How did she even answer that? Of course Marinette wanted to give him advice, but something about this whole conversation was making her uneasy. With the way Chat Noir was avoiding eye contact, she feared he may be talking about someone else other than his “coworker,” but she had to trust that her partner wouldn’t keep such a big secret from her. They built their relationship on complete trust, after all, and it couldn’t very well function without that…

Letting out a breath, Marinette forced a smile to her face as she placed a gentle hand on Chat Noir’s cheek. Her fingers connected with his jaw, encouraging him to look her in the eye, and it absolutely broke her heart to see the wetness in his gaze. She rarely ever saw her partner so distraught. 

"You tell her," she said, brushing his hair away from his forehead. "And if she gets mad, well… You'll just have to work it out together."

That’s what friends do, she thought. They work things out together.

She and Chat Noir could work things out.

She and Adrien could work things out.

Chat Noir sighed. Shaking his head, he buried his face back into her neck, finding comfort in her closeness. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said, though she wasn't entirely sure what he was apologizing for. Patting his back, she sat with him for a few moments until he calmed down, waiting for his breathing to steady and pulse to slow before she grasped his hands in her own. "Do you want me to hang out with you tonight? I’m supposed to see my friends, but I’d rather be here with you if you need me to. I don’t want to leave you alone like this.”

Chat Noir declined, forcing a smile to his face as he shook his head, messy blonde hair swaying wildly on his head. "No, that's alright. You go have fun. I think right now I need to just be alone with my thoughts. I gotta figure this out."

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I know you don’t like to be alone. If you need me here, Chat Noir, I don’t mind canceling—”

“No,” he interrupted. He presented her with another one of his fake smiles as he squeezed her hands. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay, cat’s honor.”

"Well… okay," she said, and although she wasn’t entirely convinced she abided anyway, not wanting to argue with him any further. "I'll be home later if you still need to talk. I won’t be gone long."

Chat Noir nodded, no other sound rising from his lips. 

She left him after that. Marinette couldn’t help feeling wrong. He had insisted he wanted to be alone, but… Is that what he needed? Was she a bad friend for doing what he wanted? For going out with her friends?

He wasn’t totally alone, right? He had Plagg. And she wouldn’t be out late. It would be okay… Wouldn’t it?

The guilty feeling didn’t leave by the time she’d gathered her things and left the apartment. It was gnawing at her like some ankle-biting dog chewing at her feet, resistant to her attempts to shake it off no matter how hard she tried. 

She wasn’t a bad partner. She had her own life to live and her own things to figure out. No matter how desperately she wanted to be there for her friend, she had her own problems to deal with at the moment… Like how she was going to approach the whole kissing subject with Adrien and apologize without coming across as a total creep.

Marinette needed advice. As she walked out of her apartment complex, she rang Alya on the phone, determined to figure the whole thing out.

“Alya?” she asked when her best friend picked up the phone. “Can you meet me at our usual café? I need your help.”

Chapter Text

“You asked Adrien to kiss you? ”

Marinette whined, burying her head in her hands. The bustling activity of their favorite café was a decent enough distraction from her inner turmoil but she still felt like she was going to combust from sheer embarrassment right there at the table, her cheeks the same shade of pink as her blouse. “I know,” she whimpered, unable to look Alya directly in the eye. “I don’t know why! I was drunk!”

The setting sun streamed in through the tall glass windows, bathing the pair in warm, orange light. Sounds of patrons ordering their drinks floated in the air and the scents of coffee and sugar danced through the shop, filling Marinette's senses with a brief source of comfort as her brain practically melted with shame.

Alya, working her way through a delectable-looking slice of chocolate cake, poked at the frosting thoughtfully. “And what did he say?”

“I don’t remember!” Marinette exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air in dramatic fashion. Other customers of the café looked up from their lattes in surprise. “All I know is that I asked him to kiss me and after that it’s all a blur!”

Quiet, Alya placed a hand to her chin in thought, looking thoroughly stumped. She sipped her iced non-caffeinated coffee as she considered Marinette's words. Puzzled, her brows furrowed as she asked, “That doesn’t seem enough to make Adrien avoid you completely, though. You don’t think…” Her eyebrows shot into her hairline as she snapped her amber gaze to Marinette’s, eyes wide. “You don’t think you guys actually kissed or anything, right? He took you home afterward. Did anything happen?”

Marinette turned positively red. “No!” she screeched, clapping her hands over her mouth as all heads in the café turned to glare at her for once again disturbing their peace. “No,” she repeated, quieter. “Nothing happened. At least, I think I would remember if anything did. Besides, Adrien wouldn’t… Adrien’s not like that.”

Because he wasn’t, right? Adrien was the most respectable guy she had ever met besides Chat Noir. He would never, ever take advantage of someone like that, let alone one of his best friends.

(She was one of his best friends, wasn't she…?)

Convinced, Marinette shook her head. “No. I’m sure nothing happened.”

It would never happen—no matter if "it" was just a kiss or something more. Adrien didn’t like her like that… He never had, not even in collège or lycée when they had been practically inseparable. Besides, he had his heart set on someone else. Just because they were pretending to date to appease his father didn’t mean that they were an actual couple or that there were any real feelings there on his part, no matter how badly she wished there to be. 

“Jeez,” Nino huffed as he approached the table, adjusting the red cap he wore on his head. He glanced back at the barista, motioning toward the tired-looking teenager with his thumb. “Is it just me, or does she look like she wants to die?” He slipped into the chair next to his fiance, having finally procured his coffee. “Sorry I'm late. What did I miss?”

“Oh, nothing,” Alya said, shrugging nonchalantly as she sipped her iced drink. “Only that Marinette asked Adrien to kiss her on Friday.”

Nino sputtered and choked on his coffee, spraying it onto the glass table. He coughed, hastily grabbing a handful of napkins to dab at his face before he drowned from the beverage that shot down his windpipe, taking ragged breaths as he attempted to breathe again. His fiancée patted his back to encourage the liquid to pass down his throat.

“What?” he rasped. He looked to Marinette for confirmation, who could only nod in defeat.

She repressed the urge to scream from how mortified she felt.

“And, uh,” Nino said, pounding lightly on his chest as he regained his composure. Alya had the decency to at least look a little guilty for causing her partner to nearly choke to death while she wiped up the mess on the table. “How did that go?”

“Not well,” Marinette replied. She looked down. “He, um… Won’t speak to me.”

“Oh.” Nino frowned. “That’s not great.”

“It’s not,” Alya agreed. “He even refused to hang out with us tonight.”

"Really?" Nino set his drink down on the table, his eyes downcast. "That's not like him…"

"Marinette thinks she's really freaked him out," Alya said. "That he doesn't like her anymore."

Nino frowned, regarding his fiancée with a confused look. "What? This is Adrien we're talking about, right? I'm pretty sure he's incapable of disliking any of us. I don't think he would hold something Marinette said while inebriated against her."

"I don't know," Marinette said. She rubbed her arm nervously. "You haven't seen the way he's been looking at me. It's as if I'm a whole different person to him. Like he doesn’t even recognize me as myself anymore."

Perplexed, Nino sighed, scratching at the side of his head as he deliberated what to say. "Something else has gotta be up. I'm not convinced he's acting like that because of one little comment about kissing, especially when it came from you." He tapped his fingers on the table. "Maybe I could try talking to him."

Ignoring the minuscule spark of hope she felt from Nino's comment, Marinette shrugged. "It's worth a shot, I guess."

Suddenly, Alya piped up from beside her, her eyes lighting up like fireworks in the night sky. She slammed her palms on the table as she sat up straight. "I have an idea for how we can make him talk to you again."

“‘Make him’?” Nino turned to his fiancée with a concerned raise of his eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Alya,” Marinette warned.

Alya grinned. “Trust me on this,” she said, keeping her tone even so that her excitement didn’t show. “Nino and I are supposed to check out some places in the countryside next week. Why don’t you two come with us? We’ll make a trip out of it. We can go camping and act like fancy rich people looking to buy a vacation home. And,” she added, the beginnings of a smirk curling on her face, “you and Adrien can spend plenty of alone time together. Lots of time to figure stuff out and talk about that whole kissing thing.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Marinette stated flatly. 

Alya crossed her arms. “No, it’s not!” She elbowed Nino, startling him as he stole a bite of her cake. “Tell her, Nino.”

Nino blinked owlishly. “Um… I don't know, Alya. Adrien isn't really the outdoorsy type."

Alya narrowed her eyes at him as she kicked his foot with her own. The warning in her gaze was all he needed to concede. Nino smiled sheepishly, holding his hands up in defeat. "Okay, I retract my previous statement. She might have a point. It could be fun.”

Shaking her head, Marinette sighed. Though the idea did sound kind of nice—she’d never been camping before and she missed spending time with her friends—it just wouldn’t work out well. She had so much to worry about that it would feel wrong to drop everything and run away from her problems. It would be completely unprofessional of her to suddenly dip from her newly-received promotion and she couldn't justify putting her credibility on the line for a friendship retreat. 

"It’s a super busy time of year for me at work, Alya," she said. "I can’t just take time off of work with such short notice.”

“You can if you’re friends with the CEO’s only son,” Alya said. The smirk that had been barely there now blossomed into a full-fledged grin, the length of it nearly splitting her face with how wide it grew. 

Damn it. Marinette hated when Alya was right. 

She huffed, crossing her arms defiantly. “I’ll think about it,” she said, not entirely opposed to the idea yet not committing to it either. “What makes you think Adrien will say yes, anyway? If I can’t even get him to talk to me at work, why would he want to spend time with me outside of it?”

Alya, having caught Nino trying to steal bites of her cake, slid the plate of the remaining confection toward him. “Here, you little thief,” she said affectionately. Turning her attention back to Marinette, she continued, “Has he been avoiding you at home, too?”

Oh. Right. Alya and Nino thought they lived together.

Marinette was getting so tired of lying. “Well…” she said, unable to look her friends in the eye. “He, um… He hasn’t been home much.”

Alya and Nino shared a glance. 

“So that means yes,” Alya said.

Frowning, Marinette sighed. “I guess. Yeah.”

“So…” Scooting closer, Alya placed her elbows on the table, her head propped in her hands. She batted her eyelashes and gave Marinette her best display of sad puppy eyes, jutting out her lower lip in a small, pitiful pout. “What do you say? Can my bestie and my fiancé's bestie take a vacation with us? Pretty, pretty please?”

Marinette grumbled, purposefully averting her gaze. 

“And we’ll look at cute houses together and rent a cabin to stay in,” Alya continued, leaning in closer. “It’s summer. I bet the countryside looks so beautiful right now. Imagine all the design inspiration you’ll be able to bring back to Gabriel… ”

Groaning, Marinette leaned farther away from Alya the closer her friend scooted, biting her lip to keep herself from saying anything that might cause her to agree. 

“Marinette,” Alya said, whining. “I’m pregnant and my emotions are completely haywire right now . I cry so easily these days, are you gonna make me cry?”

Despite herself, a smile wove its way onto Marinette’s face, the corners of her mouth turning upward into a slight grin. Alya wasn’t maliciously manipulative—it was all out of love and she knew she wasn't really trying to coerce her, but it was still so hard to say no to her when she was begging like that. 

Still, though… It would be so difficult to leave for a vacation. Sure, it wouldn’t be necessarily hard to get time off of work being the “girlfriend” of her boss's son, but what if an akuma attacked? Would Chat Noir be able to handle it on his own? He wouldn’t be able to purify the akuma, but he could destroy it with his Cataclysm. Battles were so taxing by themselves, though... She didn't want to put Chat through that, especially if he was acting as off as he had been lately.

Speaking of Chat Noir being “off”… He seemed so vulnerable right now. Could she leave him alone for a week? Would he even be alright by himself? Yes, he was a capable adult who supposedly made plenty of money, but… Would he be okay by his lonesome? He was obviously going through something rough at the moment… Was it irresponsible of her to leave one of her best friends by himself while she took some time to repair her own life?

It was selfish, wasn’t it?

“‘Nette?”

Marinette looked up to see Alya directly next to her, the pleading expression still plastered on her face.

Sighing, Marinette halfway admitted defeat. "Maybe," she said, not confirming her participation but knowing that in Alya’s eyes, she’d already dipped her toes into the possibility of saying yes. "We have to talk to Adrien about it first, okay?”

Alya squealed excitedly, grasping onto her best friend’s arm and squeezing her tight in a half-hug. “Yay! Best friend vacation!”

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet!” Marinette exclaimed.

"We'll have so much fun!"

"Alya!"

Marinette rolled her eyes. What had she gotten herself into?

Adrien was exhausted.

He… he had not been sleeping much. He had not been sleeping much at all, really.

His anxiety was getting bad. The metaphorical timer on his and Marinette’s friendship was ticking down, each day that he didn’t talk to her dwindling their chances of ever rekindling their closeness. The knowledge of her identity was a heavy weight to bear, wrapped tightly around him like shackles bound to his legs, pulling at his body in an endless stream of thoughts. He couldn't move a step forward without worrying about the chains at his ankles yanking him three steps back.

He had to tell her. This couldn't go on for much longer. The more time he spent keeping the secret buried inside the worse the outcome would be when he finally told her the truth. 

He had to tell her. He had to tell her now.

"Plagg?" he asked into the night air, knowing his kwami could still hear him through his transformation despite that he couldn’t respond. Idly swaying his legs over the edge of a paneled roof, Adrien frowned, his eyes trained on the starless sky. "What am I supposed to do? The longer this goes on, the harder it gets. I'm so deep in this hole I don't think I can crawl back out. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I know it's selfish, but…" 

He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them against his body like a fearful child. "I'm scared. What if I tell her and it ruins things forever? What if she doesn't want to live with me anymore? I can't—" His breath hitched, throat tightening with emotion. "—I can't go back to that house. I can't go back to that- that prison. But… I can't lose her, either."

Nothing but the sound of traffic greeted his ears, car horns honking and distant music playing somewhere far, far away. 

Adrien frowned. Burying his face in his arms, he sighed. The leather tail of his suit swished back and forth with restless energy. Claws digging into his skin, he was thankful that his suit protected him from minor cuts and lacerations lest he accidentally puncture himself from his frustrations. 

"Maybe this was a mistake," he muttered, knowing nobody was around to hear him. "Maybe we shouldn't have—"

"There you are," a voice cut in, the delicate thud of feet landing beside him causing Adrien to snap his head up, his bangs falling in front of his masked face.

Ladybug stood before him, her hair dancing in the breeze and eyes soft in the dull evening light. Their blue color was glazed with worry. She sat down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing all the way out here, Chat Noir?"

"How did you find me?" he asked, mentally cursing himself because he knew that wasn't the right thing to say. "I mean- I- Ugh." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just came out to think."

Ladybug nodded once, turning her gaze to the skyline. "About what?"

Shrugging, Adrien hummed a noncommittal response, allowing his eyes to wander over her for just a moment. Her hair was pulled up into its usual ponytail, dark strands kissing her cheeks in the warm summer air. The sugary aroma of her perfume tickled his nostrils with hints of vanilla and honey—he had to resist the urge to bury his face in her neck and drink her in. Her scent had become such a sweet familiarity to him at this point that all he desired was to be wrapped up in her arms and held like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, secrets and identities be gone. She was his home, and he wouldn't give that up for anything.

He knew he’d been subconsciously pushing her away. His heart ached from how much he missed her.

Man... He'd really been making such a mess of things. How could he justify jeopardizing their relationship any more than he already was? Ladybug meant the absolute world to him. He had been acting so foolish, skirting around her the way had been these past few days. He knew that he was being ridiculous, letting his fear take control of him, but no matter how hard he tried to get over his nerves they were still holding him back, wrapping themselves around his neck and choking him like a vice. 

His shoulders felt heavy with regret. How did he fix things without making them worse?

Ladybug didn't deserve to be treated with such little respect. He was Chat Noir, her partner and best friend—why had he let his own fear get the best of him when he knew there was nobody out there who understood him more than she did?

She was his best friend. She was Marinette, the same girl whom he had known since he was fourteen years old and fresh to public school, who had despised him at first but eventually grew to be one of his closest friends. He cared about her so much that it hurt. He couldn’t keep avoiding her any longer, for both her sake and his own—even if being around her caused him to feel so anxious that he felt he might combust.

He loved her. And that was enough to give him the slight spark of confidence he needed to talk to her again.

Adrien found himself smiling, a small, affectionate grin gracing his face. "What am I thinking about?" He asked, repeating her question. A surge of boldness coursed through him. It was amazing how quickly her presence could improve his mood; he was unable to resist the opportunity to shower her with praise. “Oh, nothing… Just about how beautiful you are."

The roll of her eyes only caused him to smile wider. "Okay, Monsieur Smooth-Talker," she snorted, giving his feet a playful kick. "What are you really thinking about?"

What was he really thinking about?

How about the fact that she was everything to him? Or that no matter what happened, he would always want to be with her? 

Thoughts of self-loathing due to how horrible he felt for keeping secrets from her raced in his mind, but he shook them away, replacing the anxieties with images of her face without the mask, of Marinette's bright smile and unwavering loyalty—all good things that filled him with sweet, fuzzy warmth from head to toe. 

"Nothing that you need to worry about," he responded, thankful that she didn't push him away when he placed his head on her shoulder. Clearing his throat, he scooted closer to her, resting his hand over her own. "Hey, I'm… I'm sorry I've been acting so stupid lately."

The feel of her fingers carding through his hair was like pure bliss to his senses. He'd been so goddamn lonely as of late that he nearly started purring right then and there.

"It's okay," she said, her voice so soft and so kind and so very Marinette that he wanted to seal her lips with a kiss. "And it's okay to not be okay, Chat Noir. I don't know what's going on with you, but I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you need me."

"I know," he said. He closed his eyes, reveling in the comfort he felt from just her touch alone.

Ladybug scratched the base of his head. "You don't have to avoid me, you know."

He frowned, guilt seeping into his skin. His nose grazed the side of her neck as he attempted to hide his face from view. "I know."

"So why are you?"

"I-" He sighed, his tail lashing with excess nervous energy. "It's complicated."

"Then I can help you figure it out," she told him.

Tell her, the voice in his mind screamed. Whether it was Plagg or his own voice of reason, he wasn't sure. It's the perfect moment. You'll have to tell her sooner or later. Just do it. Rip the band-aid off. Tell her!

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Adrien took a deep, collected breath, willing his nerves to settle by mentally counting down from three.

She deserves to know.

"Listen," he said, pulling himself away from her contact. He stared her deep in the eye, unwilling to let himself look away even for a moment. His voice trembled as he spoke. "Ladybug, there's something I've really gotta tell you. I haven't known how to bring it up and I've been so nervous about telling you that all I've been able to do is hide. I'm afraid of what you'll say, but I just have to spit it out and say it now or else I'm never going to be able to find the courage."

Ladybug nodded, her eyes bright and so completely full of trust for him that it nearly shattered his heart.

Hands shaking as he gripped her shoulders, he sighed, steeling himself to finally let loose the truth he'd been holding captive in his mind for the better of a week. "Ladybug," he said, his voice wobbling, "I know you're—"

An explosion sounded in the distance. 

Adrien wanted to scream or cry or- or break something. 

"Akuma," Ladybug said, taking a stand. It was amazing how quickly she could morph appearances, jumping from a relaxed state into a picture of strictly business like it was second nature to her.

Bitter, Adrien pushed himself to his feet. "Great timing," he muttered, doing his best to keep the sourness he felt from tainting his expression. "Perfect, actually."

"Come on," she instructed, zipping over the skyline at the mercy of her yo-yo. 

Adrien was eager to follow, hot at her heels as they followed the sounds of distress, weaving through alleyways and vaulting over rooftops to reach the forefront of the attack. Sirens trailed behind them, as loud and distracting as they usually were. Though the police were always at the scene of Papillon's latest villain of the week, they were hardly ever necessarily. Hadn't they learned by now to leave the dirty work to Ladybug and himself?

As they arrived at the scene—a small park brightly lit by street lamps—Adrien was quick to dodge the projectiles that flew his way, his tail narrowly avoiding being singed by a wayward barrage of fireballs. A rainbow of birds soared through the air, screeching past him in a dizzying array of color, their sharp talons outstretched toward his skin. His feline ears flattened against his head when a stampede of fantasy animals paraded toward him, his teeth baring in a hiss as he ducked from the onslaught of flying attackers.

Whoever decided to wreak havoc on Paris tonight had certainly brightened up the battlefield with a little more than just their colorful personality. Fantasy creatures of all types flooded the scene, unicorns and griffins and fairies and hundreds more he couldn't even name, filling the once quaint park with such an overwhelming loudness that Adrien nearly had to clap his hands over his ears to stifle the noise.

He tuned out the useless monologue their opponent bellowed to the streets, rolling his eyes as he droned on and on about something or someone that had upset him just enough to alert their asshole nemesis. Adrien didn't know what had caused the outburst, nor did he care; it was always the same thing with these people. The whole thing was starting to grow old.

Transformed from a regular human into a full-fledged knight in a complete set of chainmail armor, the villain pointed a sharpened sword toward the pair, threatening them the best he could while seated on top of a pitch-black pegasus and looking as if he had just jumped out of a children's pop-up book. 

Even the name was ridiculous to say. "Knight's Edge." Seriously, where did he pull that title from? A cereal box?

Leaping over the army of mythical soldiers, Adrien kept his eyes trained on his partner. He watched as she used her yo-yo to paralyze a white-coated unicorn that had charged in her direction. It had narrowly missed her—its needle-tipped horn a hair from impaling her chest—and that's when Adrien came to a sickening realization that she was not only Ladybug in the middle of this fight, but also Marinette.

Marinette, who had nearly been sliced in half in front of his very eyes. 

His stomach sank to his feet.

"Chat Noir!" Ladybug shouted. "The akuma is in his satchel!"

A thundering explosion burst behind her, flames licking the trees and enveloping them in blazing orange, bathing Ladybug in bright, hot light. Her hair was mussed from the thick air, strands sticking out in every direction around her face, and her expression was a perfect picture of badass determination that it nearly took Adrien's breath away.

(How on earth did she manage to always look so gorgeous, even during a battle?)

Embers of burning leaves rained from the sky. Adrien's focus was drawn from the beauty of his partner to the cacophonous roar of a humongous horned dragon, its scales the shade of fresh blood. It towered over the pair, reminding Adrien that despite that he was taller than most people, he was still insignificant in the grand scale of the universe. 

He backed up until he felt Ladybug behind him. Pressing into her, he wrapped his tail around her calf, tethering himself to her like she was his lifeline. 

He needed her to be close to him so he could protect her. If Marinette got injured, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. 

"What's the problem this time?" he asked, brandishing his baton.

"He got kicked out of a DND group," Ladybug replied. 

Adrien bit back a snort. "Tragic."

He felt her hand brush his own, sparking his affections for her. There was something both comforting and terrifying in knowing that no matter what, she would always be by his side.

Again her secret weighed on his mind. Swallowing thickly, he prepared for the oncoming attack, watching as the knight ordered a collection of creatures both big and small to charge toward them in search of their Miraculous. 

It was as if everything was happening in slow motion. All he could see were the sharpened claws of enemies, bared teeth dripping with saliva, and flames eating away at the ground, inching closer and closer with every millisecond that passed. The only thoughts that occupied his frantic mind were of Marinette—Marinette being mauled, Marinette crushed under giant paws, Marinette lying crippled on the ground, body broken and eyes void of life—

"Chat Noir, focus!" she shouted, wrangling a group of gnomes that had nearly torn his ears off. 

He shook his head, turning his attention to the screech of a phoenix soaring down to graze the top of his head. He hissed, clutching at the brief sting of pain that throbbed at his skull. Why did he feel so dizzy? Why was his mind so clouded…?

"Chat Noir!" Ladybug shouted. Her voice was strained with her efforts. She gripped onto her yo-yo, the string taut as it squeezed the knight's body in its clutches, snatching him from his perch on his steed back and successfully capturing him in her hold. "Use your Cataclysm! The satchel!"

Right. The satchel. 

The satchel worn by the knight.

The satchel he needed to destroy in order to free the infected butterfly so Ladybug could purify it and they could move on with their evening.

That satchel.

He couldn’t breathe. His mind raced with thoughts of Marinette, of times she’d gotten hurt in battle, and he just couldn’t focus on anything but the underlying terror he felt at the idea of her being injured that his feet were frozen to the floor like a deer in headlights, staring at her with wide green eyes as his heart pounded and blood ran cold.

“Chat! ”

Snapping his head up to look her in the eye, he panicked as he watched the dragon charge toward her, its red wings flaring and tail lashing from side to side. From its mouth jets of blazing fire coated the arena in flame, causing Adrien’s hair to stand on end from just how hot it was. The lizard lifted its thick head, rearing back as it prepared to strike with fangs bared, and it was with complete horror that Adrien realized it was about to devour Marinette.

He reacted without thinking. Launching himself with his baton, he collided with her body so hard that they both rolled across the concrete, and he hissed with pain as he skinned shoulder on the ground. Initially, Adrien felt relieved, until he saw that his actions had inadvertently caused their opponent to slide free from Ladybug’s hold, fleeing for the safety of his giant reptile friend.

“Chat Noir, what the hell? ” Ladybug hissed as she sat up from the hard ground. She watched Knight's Edge fly away on the dragon's back, her brow furrowed in confusion as she regarded him with such an angry expression that he couldn’t help but physically wilt. “What’s your problem? I had him! All you had to do was use your Cataclysm! We would have finished him off by now!”

“I- I don’t…” His hands were shaking. Vision blurred, he pressed his palms to his eyes, trying (and failing) to clear the muddled thoughts that swarmed in his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. All I saw was that dragon coming toward you and I freaked out. If you had gotten hurt—”

Ladybug groaned, heaving herself to her feet and dusting the grass stains from her thighs. He could tell that her aggravation was starting to get the best of her and he knew he had nobody but himself to blame. Yo-yo spinning in her hand, she said, “I wouldn’t have gotten hurt! I was watching the dragon the whole time.”

Adrien swallowed thickly. What could he say? That he panicked because he suddenly remembered that Marinette was under the mask? That his friend who had cried over a cheesy romance movie was the same friend he’d been fighting side-by-side with for the past seven years? His friend who had drunkenly asked him if he would be so kind as to kiss her, as if that wasn’t everything he’d ever dreamed of, as if she wasn’t everything he’d ever wanted and more?

As if… she wasn't his friend who was also fully capable of protecting herself?

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, legs trembling as he forced himself to stand. His shoulder throbbed with pain. “I’m sorry, ‘Bug.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she sighed, shaking her head. Her voice softened, the venom that had previously burned it fading to minor annoyance. “Let’s just catch him and get this over with. Where did he go?”

Looking away, Adrien frowned. “I… I don’t know.”

I’m sorry.

It didn’t take long to track him down. Following the path of smoke and flaming buildings, Adrien kept his mouth shut as they once again cornered the villain, allowing Ladybug to use her lucky charm—a flame-retardant rope—to bind Knight's Edge to a street pole. 

Adrien didn’t need to use his Cataclysm. Ladybug had handled everything on her own. His eyes followed the purified butterfly as it flitted up toward the sky, silently wishing he’d done more, or even done nothing at all.

What was wrong with him?

The police escorted the sobbing man away as millions of magical ladybugs cleansed the city, washing away all the damage that had been caused.

The frantic beeping of his partner’s Miraculous jolted Adrien back to reality. Holding up a hesitant fist, he offered it to his partner, lips quirking upward into a lopsided smile as he asked, “ Bien joue? ”

Ladybug glared at him, her lower lip jutting out slightly from her irritation. “What’s going on with you?” She asked, shoving a finger into his chest. “You’re avoiding me, you’re acting all weird, and now you’re throwing yourself at me in the middle of akuma fights as if I can't take care of myself. You need to tell me what’s wrong because I can’t stand being in the dark anymore, Chat Noir."

He looked away, shame burning him from the inside out.

Ladybug wasn't deterred. "I know it’s something I did," she said, the crack in her voice making Adrien's throat feel tight. "I can tell by the way you look at me, Chat Noir. I did something wrong. I want to fix it, but I can’t if you don’t tell me what it is!”

He gulped, backing away from her touch. 

She was mad. He’d upset her with his stupid behavior and stupid thoughts and it was all his fault that things were falling apart between them and- and-

It was all ruined. He couldn’t tell her now. It would only make things worse. 

“My Lady,” he said, voice trembling, “your Miraculous.”

She stepped closer. “Tell me, Chat Noir. I’m not waiting any longer.”

Pain radiated from his shoulder. With his heart thundering in his ears, Adrien shook his head, the metal tips of his boots clicking as he slowly retreated backward, his eyes frantically searching for an escape.

“Please look at me,” she pleaded, the exasperation in her tone morphing to sorrow. “Please, kitty. I can’t take this anymore. I miss you.” She reached him then, cupping his chin in her hand in such a gentle, loving touch that it damn nearly made him cry. Her eyes were as soft as the most delicate bluebells, and his heart twisted painfully in his gut as she stroked her thumb against his cheek. With a watery gaze, she said, “I miss us.”

He felt a thousand weights on his chest, his head light and vision cloudy. Of course he had to go and screw things up. It was what he did best.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, tears burning at the corner of his eyes. 

Fight or flight was kicking in. Everything in his body was telling him to flee.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He allowed himself to look at her for a fleeting moment. “I... I have to go.”

With the blood rushing in his ears, Adrien turned, extended his baton and fled, leaving his partner to stand alone in the street with nothing to comfort her but the sound of her own voice calling his name.

Chapter Text

Chat Noir hadn’t been home all night.

Marinette waited up for hours in her transformation. While Tikki had needed to recharge after the akuma fight, Marinette was eager to transform again—her superheroine identity was the only way she had to contact her partner, and she was desperate to find him. He had left in such a hurry that Marinette hadn’t even gotten a chance to process what had transpired before she saw him fleeing, looking absolutely frantic as he ran away like a cat with its tail tucked between its legs. The welling of tears in his eyes were an alarming sight, and Marinette would have immediately grabbed his tail and pulled him back if she herself hadn’t been so hurt and confused by his actions.

She’d gone after him, of course… Right after Tikki scarfed down a cookie, as she’d barely had enough time to hide before her Miraculous timed out, much less go on a full search. By the time her transformation had enveloped her body for the second time that evening, it was too late—Chat Noir was nowhere to be found. Not on any rooftop, any alleyway, and certainly not at home.

Marinette had looked everywhere for him. 

She might have cried from the frustration of it all, but, well… That was a part she’d keep to herself.

The amount of times she had used her compact to dial Chat Noir were a bit much, but who was keeping count? Each time the line went dead she tried again, refusing to give up, refusing to leave her partner alone when he was clearly in a state of emotional distress. She desperately hoped he would answer, that he would tell her where he was and that she could take him home. They needed to talk about what was going on. 

With each ambient sound that had risen to her ears her heart would lurch in relief that finally, he was finally back, only to be disappointed when it was just a wayward bat or breeze.

Once midnight rolled around, Marinette resigned herself to defeat and went home.

She’d waited on the couch, on the balcony, even on the roof of the complex, her eyes trained on the skyline for any trace of her partner. She had considered searching for him again, but what if he came back to an empty apartment? What would he have done then?

She’d felt increasingly bitter with each tear that dripped down her cheeks. Marinette hated herself for crying, but how could she not?

Chat Noir had run away. He’d run away from her.

She didn’t know what she had done. Maybe she didn’t want to know. All she wanted was for things to get better.

All of her attempts to find him had been to no avail. Exhausted, eventually she had detransformed and slunk off to bed, only managing to get about two hours of fitful sleep before she’d been awoken by the blaring of her alarm. 

“I don’t understand what I did, Tikki,” she said, squinting at the sunlight that streamed in through the small gap between her curtains. Her voice was hoarse with emotion and lack of sleep. “It’s like he can’t even stand to be around me anymore. I thought things were getting better. I mean—” she paused to blow her nose into a tissue, her vision blurred as her eyes filled with salty tears, “—he was talking to me last night and even flirting with me, but then all of a sudden… He got all flighty again. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Maybe…”

Maybe… Maybe she and Chat Noir needed to spend some time away from each other. Maybe it would help if he had the place to himself a few days to think things over… or to at least work up the courage to tell her what had caused the rift between them, because obviously being around her wasn’t helping—in fact, it seemed as if things were only getting worse.

Tikki patted her hand, her big, blue eyes full of sympathy for her holder as she rested her head on Marinette’s knuckles. Rolling over onto her back, Marinette wiped at her eyes with her arm, grimacing at the dark streak of makeup that smeared across her skin.

“...Maybe us moving in together was a mistake,” Marinette sighed. “We’ve never been this awkward around each other before, but now… I don’t know, Tikki. Something happened that he’s not telling me and it’s making him feel like he can’t be around me.”

“Do you want to move out?” Tikki asked, as patient as always.

Marinette shrugged. Did she?

No, of course she didn’t. One little fight wasn’t going to make her give up and move back in with her parents. Besides, she liked her freedom, and she liked living with Chat Noir, too! He was fun, he didn’t judge her, and he was always there for her when she needed him.

…Except for right now, of course.

Marinette sighed. “No, I don’t. I just wish we could fix things, that’s all.”

Why couldn’t he just come home? Where was he?

She had to be at work in just over an hour, but…

But how could she go to work and pretend like everything was normal when it wasn’t ? When she’d barely gotten any sleep and looked and felt like an absolute mess?

How could she face her coworkers like this?

…How could she face another day of Adrien’s rejection like this?

Her stomach grumbled. She needed to eat. Food would help settle the nerves that swam in her stomach.

“Marinette, you've had a rough night,” Tikki said. “Maybe you should stay home from work today? You could use the rest.”

While the idea was tempting, Marinette declined, shaking her head. Messy strands of unkempt black hair fell in front of her face. “No,” she said, sitting up. “I can’t stay here all day, waiting for Chat Noir to get home. I need to get out and distract myself. Clear my head.”

Nodding, Tikki patted her hand, flying up to nuzzle her cheek. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I wish I knew what was wrong.”

Breathing out slowly, Marinette unlocked her phone, staring at her contacts with a forlorn sigh. Yesterday she had been so certain that she wouldn’t be able to leave for a short vacation with Alya, but now…

Now all she wanted to do was get away for a little while.

It would be a good distraction, spending time in the countryside with two of her best friends—three if they could convince Adrien to go. She could spend a few days away from the hectic energy of the city, away from her stuffy apartment that she’d loved at first but now felt too small, away where she could ruminate over what she could have done wrong or even not worry about it at all, because her mind was so sick of being on edge that all she wanted to do was flee.

Marinette wasn’t the type to run from her problems, but Chat Noir wasn’t making it easy for her to solve them, either.

Before she could change her mind, she opened up her messages with Alya and sent a single text, one that she knew she might regret but couldn’t find it in herself to care:

Messaging - Alya
7:58 A.M.: I’m in.

She threw her phone to the side before she could read the response. Marinette didn’t have time for that right now; she had to get ready for work.

Taking a breath, she steadied herself before she stood from her bed, rubbing at the uncomfortable kink that had formed in her spine. Chat Noir really landed on her hard last night… Hopefully that pain would go away sooner rather than later. Irritation burned at the back of her mind, but she stowed it away. It wouldn’t benefit her to get all worked up again. With work her main focus, Marinette laid out some fresh clothes, hoping a pink blouse and blue jeans would be enough to hide the fact that she felt like absolute death. That, and six cups of coffee. Maybe seven just to be sure.

She showered and dressed quickly. Her breakfast consisted of a blueberry bagel and a large tumbler mug full of extra-strong coffee, which she downed as fast as she could without making herself sick. Her makeup, which she normally spent enough time on to feel decently cute, was just enough to cover up the dark circles under her eyes.

It was just about time for her to walk out the door when she realized she’d forgotten her purse in her room. As she retrieved it, she paused in the hallway, staring into Chat Noir’s empty bedroom with her heart aching in her chest. It was messy as always, clothes strewn on the floor and his bed unkempt. She didn’t enter his room—she wouldn’t without him being there—but she did lean in the doorway, scanning over his room and mourning the loss of what they used to be.

Oh, well. No use dwelling on it. She needed to get to work. It was one of the last days before the summer line was to be complete, and she couldn’t afford to get distracted by her thoughts of her partner.

As she closed the apartment door behind her and locked it, Marinette forced herself to think positive, ignoring the painful clench of her heart as she walked away from their home. 

It would be a good day. She would talk to Adrien, convince him to take a short vacation with her and their friends, and she would stop worrying about Chat Noir.

Work was grueling.

Marinette loved her job. She did! It certainly kept her busy, and was exhausting in a rewarding sort of way. She liked most of her coworkers and she was highly appreciated for her skill. Most days she went home with a smile on her face, weary but ultimately happy, and she was quickly moving up the ranks in the company. She was overjoyed that she was being valued as an employee and as a designer, and each day that she got to try something new was exciting. It was wonderful. Today was no different, but…

But having to go through the entire work day worrying about Adrien was beginning to tax her mentally, and she wasn’t sure how much more of his absence she could take. Marinette hated constantly wondering where he was or if he’d even speak to her when she approached him, and when she realized that he was (once again) nowhere to be found, she had to take a moment to collect herself before she had a mental breakdown. 

Chat Noir had run away last night. Adrien wasn’t talking to her.

Marinette was so tired of being treated like this by them—boys that she devoted so much of her time to and that she loved so much in entirely different ways, and she swore she was going to go absolutely insane if she had to deal with it for another day . She was so— so done with being ignored and being treated like she didn’t exist and that her feelings didn’t matter!

Where’s Chat Noir? Where’s Adrien? Why won’t they talk to me?

She just wanted to talk! She needed to apologize, damn it!

What had she done to cause them both to avoid her?

“Excuse me,” Marinette asked the receptionist after she had finally clocked out for the day, feeling completely, utterly drained. “Is Adrien still here, or did he leave already?”

The receptionist adjusted her circular-framed glasses, shaking her head. “He never came in today. Called in sick.”

“Sick,” Marinette said, voice tight. “Right. Thanks.”

Sick. Hmph.

She left. Exiting through the oppressive glass doors at the front and down the steps, Marinette huffed, kicking a stray pebble down the sidewalk and into a storm drain. The sky was just beginning to turn pink in hue, the sun still shining brightly but growing weary as it began its descent for the evening. Normally she and Chat Noir would meet for patrol, but there was no use in waiting for him tonight. Marinette knew he wouldn’t show.

It took everything in her power to keep herself from stomping her feet as she practically barreled through the doors of her favorite café. Thankful it was a short walk from Gabriel , Marinette made a beeline for the front counter in search of something sweet, warm and comforting to fill the void she felt growing inside. Food wouldn’t fix her problems, but it would certainly distract her from them for a little while.

Marinette ordered a chocolate croissant to settle the hunger rumbling in her stomach. It wasn’t anywhere near as good as her parent’s, but it would do for now. Pastry procured, Marinette thanked the barista and made her way to the exit, not wanting to go home but not sure where else to go. Her parents would dote on her, Alya would ask too many questions, and if she did go home, well… 

What if Chat Noir was there? Would things still be awkward?

(That’s if he even bothered coming back after last night...)

At least if she were home alone, she would have Tikki…

Resigning herself to the probable chance of spending another night without her roommate, Marinette took a bite of her croissant, preparing to go home and take a long, relaxing bubble bath and forget about boys for a little while. Instead of thinking about Chat Noir or Adrien, she wanted to focus on herself.

Steamy water with one of her favorite lavender scented bath bombs. Flower petals. Candles. Soft music to distract her from—

A mop of blonde hair caught her eye just as she was about to walk out the café door. Startled, Marinette froze mid-chew, nearly dropping her pastry onto the dark wooden floor. She had to blink several times before she realized that no, she wasn’t going crazy—the man sitting in the corner of the café that had captivated her attention was none other than Chat Noir, nestled in a booth next to one of the large glass windows. Orange sunlight painted him in warm radiance. 

Marinette almost choked on her croissant; she forced herself to swallow the half-eaten bite that remained in her mouth. Suspicious, she hesitantly proceeded toward the booth to get a closer look, but stopped herself when she realized that it wasn’t her partner sipping on a cup of coffee, but Adrien.  

Initially she felt relieved, but a twinge of disappointment rose in her as well.

Adrien was alone—that much was obvious. With his head propped in his hand he stared out the window, looking so dazed and lifeless that Marinette felt an overwhelming sense of pity. He looked even worse for wear than she was; deep, dark bags hung under his usually vibrant green eyes, which were dull from lack of sleep. His mouth was stretched down into a frown, and his hair—

His hair was disheveled, hanging in front of his face like the customary style of a certain someone Marinette would not—could not—think about at the moment. 

(It would have been endearing if Adrien didn't look so sad .)

Maybe… Maybe he was sick. Guilt pooled in Marinette’s stomach, making her regret that she’d even felt mad in the first place.

She needed to talk to him and figure out what was going on.

Swallowing around the nervous lump that had appeared in her throat, Marinette approached him, pastry shaking in her trembling hand as she walked up to his table and gave his shoulder a gentle tap with her fingers.

"Adrien?" she said, her voice soft. "Are you okay-"

He flinched, startled by her sudden appearance. His coffee, which had been innocently placed in front of him, nearly spilled from his surprise but he caught it just before it trickled out onto the table. Marinette took a step backward, her own eyes wide as he stared up at her like a frightened puppy full of alarm. Once he noticed it was her, however, he relaxed slightly, meeting her gaze with his own.

"Marinette, sorry," he breathed, reaching up to move his messy bangs out of face as he caught his breath. “I thought you were, um… Never mind. H-hi."

She raised her free hand in a small wave. "Hi…" Glancing at the empty seat across from him, she asked, "Can I sit?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

Marinette sat, slipping her half-eaten croissant back into its bag and setting it on the table. Drumming her fingers on its surface, she cleared her throat, trying her best to calm the nervous flutter of her heart. "Um," she said, hating how shy her voice sounded. "Are you alright? You look kinda…"

"...Dead?" Adrien asked, a small, humorless smile appearing on his face. 

Marinette winced. She wouldn't call it that, but something was definitely off. "Well…" 

"It's okay," Adrien said. "I know I look pretty awful."

Frowning, Marinette reached out to place her hand over his, but pulled back before her skin brushed his own. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Adrien stared hard at the table, his brows furrowing and lips pulling down into a deeper frown. He sat quietly for a long moment before he met her eyes, looking at her nervously—almost guiltily. For what, Marinette wasn’t sure… Maybe he felt bad for blowing her off lately?

An awkward silence stretched between them. 

“Did you, um… Need something?” Adrien asked after a moment, causing Marinette to scoff. 

Though his voice held no animosity, she still found herself offended—maybe it was because she’d been so on edge due to Chat Noir’s actions that Adrien’s behavior was causing her irritation to fester. He was avoiding the question. She had to take a moment to consider her words before she said something she’d regret.

“Maybe I just wanted to talk,” she said, keeping her tone even, “since I haven’t been able to speak to you these past few days. You never seem to be available.”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped. Shame prickled at his spine. His hand twitched on the table, inching just a smidge closer to hers, but he retracted it just before it covered her knuckles. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I didn’t mean to ignore you…”

Marinette noticed the way he kept to his personal bubble. She raised an eyebrow as he pulled his hand back. The urge to take it and squeeze it in her hold nearly overwhelmed her but she resisted, opting instead to tighten her grip on her croissant like it was a damn stress ball. The poor pastry was likely squished beyond repair. Her parents would be disappointed by her mistreatment of baked goods.

“What’s going on, Adrien?” she asked, trying to keep her voice as soft and non-confrontational as she could.

The sigh that blew from his mouth was long and full of sheer emotional fatigue. Marinette felt for him.

She took a moment to really study her friend. His black shirt—which was usually pristine and neatly ironed—was wrinkled as if he’d slept in it. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His normally healthy skin looked pale, and his hair was still an absolute mess, appearing as if he hadn’t even bothered to brush it when he’d rolled out of bed this morning, if he’d even slept at all. His posture was poor, his spine curved much too forward—and that’s when Marinette observed the barely-there bruise peeking out from the collar of his shirt near his shoulder, slightly purple in hue.

A fierce, protective energy completely encased her. Adrien wasn’t just acting strange, he was hurt—the blemish on his skin proved that. 

What happened to him? Was something going on that was causing him to act this way toward her? Had someone hurt him? Had his roommate hurt him?

Marinette took his hand then, grasping it firmly in her two much smaller ones. “Adrien,” she said, pleading. She stared deeply into his eyes, begging him to at least talk to her, to tell her what was going on. “Please talk to me. Are you okay? If there’s something going on…”

She glanced at the bruise once more. Adrien noticed, her eyes snapping back up to his own once she realized she’d been caught.

He blushed, embarrassed that she’d taken notice of the discoloration on his shoulder. “Oh, that?” A nervous laugh rose from his throat. “Oh, that’s nothing! I, um… Fell.”

“Fell?” she asked, suspicious. “On what?”

Adrien blinked. “You.”

Huh.

Marinette’s face turned red. In a small voice, she squeaked, “What?”

“I mean—!” Removing one of his hands from her clutch, Adrien smacked a palm to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut tight to save himself from the mortification of whatever the hell he meant by that . “I tripped and fell onto someone. Sorry, that sounded so—”

“Oh!” Marinette said. She felt slightly relieved, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “Is… Are you alright?”

Adrien opened his eyes, glancing over her quickly. “Yeah. I think so.”

Again the uncomfortable quiet arose between them, nothing but the ambience of the café filling the air. The mumble of other conversations, a blender whirring, the acoustic music that played in the background…

It would’ve been peaceful had Marinette not been completely confused and, quite frankly, a bit concerned as well. 

“What’s going on with you?” she asked after a moment. Marinette knew to keep her voice quiet—she didn’t need anyone eavesdropping on their conversation for Adrien’s sake, lest his private matters be plastered all over the front page of every fashion magazine. “You look so… depressed.”

Adrien sighed. His lips wove into a sad smile. “I guess there’s no hiding it, huh?”

Shaking her head, Marinette patted his hand. “You can talk to me, you know. You don’t have to avoid your friends, Adrien. Not just me, but Alya and Nino, too. I, um…” She paused, feeling the blush creep along the back of her neck as her brain brought her back to Friday night’s dinner. “I know why you’re avoiding me, and I know that you know why, too. But why them?”

“Wait, wait,” Adrien said, his eyes widening to double their size as he regarded her with a shocked expression. It was like he’d suddenly downed twelve cups of coffee from how quickly he’d gone from dead-tired to completely alert. He leaned in closer, his voice a whisper as he asked, “You know? You know that I know?”

Befuddled, Marinette tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes slightly. How could she not know? Despite the fact that she had been drunk, it wasn’t hard to remember when she had asked him to kiss her.

She glanced around the café. People were staring—they must have noticed she and Adrien were holding hands. The last thing she needed was paparazzi getting wind of their conversation. Gabriel believing they were dating was enough—the entirety of Paris didn’t need to think that as well. “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this here,” she said, hushed.

Adrien nodded, all too eager. “Oh, um. Okay. Where to?”

They opted to take a walk around a park that was close by. Away from prying eyes, it was quiet, the setting sun causing most civilians to head home for the evening. The sky was a mixture of reds, oranges and pinks, casting an almost ethereal-like glow around the park’s courtyard. A gentle breeze twirled through the trees, the sound of leaves swaying in the air comforting to Marinette’s senses. Her nerves were a bit on edge. She was quite terrified to have this conversation and she wasn’t entirely sure if she was ready for it, but there was no better time than the present. Who knows when she’d get the chance to talk to Adrien again. 

At least he didn’t seem mad about the whole kiss thing. As Marinette surveyed his face, she noted that he actually didn’t look like much of anything—his expression blank, he walked with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, eyes trained on the ground. Marinette strolled beside him, glancing back and forth from his face to the concrete path in front of her.

He wasn’t saying anything. Why wasn't he saying anything? Should she speak first?

Just before she was about to open her mouth and apologize for her actions at the restaurant last Friday, Adrien spoke.

“You’re not mad that I know?” he asked, almost afraid. “That I haven’t told you?”

Perplexed, Marinette shook her head. “No, Adrien. Why would I be mad?”

Adrien scratched at the back of his neck. He was anxiously fidgeting now, his fingers twitching at his sides and his eyes—which still looked so dull from exhaustion—meeting her own for only fleeting seconds at a time. “Because like an idiot I’ve been too much of a coward to say anything. And after last night—”

“Last night?” Marinette questioned, stopping in her tracks. Puzzled by his choice of words, she asked, “What about last night?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. His fingers brushed hers in the most delicate of touches as he embraced her hand with his own. His skin was so soft that it was making her go crazy, but she couldn’t lose focus. “I ran away instead of coming clean. That wasn’t right of me. You deserve better in a partner, Mari, and I’m so sorry… I’ve been trying for so long to tell you that I know, and I really tried to last night, but then the akuma—”

“I- hold on,” Marinette said. She dropped his hand and stood back, completely lost. Her heart was thundering in her chest and her head was absolutely spinning. “Adrien, what are you talking about? Partner? Akuma?”

What in the world was he going on about? With words like “partner” and “akuma,” it almost sounded like—

Like—

Adrien froze. Eyebrows rising comically high, he blinked one, two, three times before he shook his head and said, “Last night, when I ran away after the fight with Knight’s Edge, and then I didn’t come home like an even bigger idiot just because I was too afraid to face you after that. I’m so sorry, Buginette.” He was rambling now. “I should have told you sooner but every time I tried I panicked and I know that’s no excuse, but—”

Buginette?

Marinette couldn’t breathe. What he was talking about wasn’t making any sense.

(In the back of her mind, it was crystal clear what was happening—what had been happening—but she couldn’t allow herself to ruminate on it for more than a brief moment at a time because they’d been so careful. She had been so careful. She had been so careful and it all couldn’t just fall apart so easily like that, like their identities didn’t even matter, like the rule wasn’t there for a reason, even if it had been so long that she couldn’t exactly remember the reason the rule was there in the first place. )

He couldn’t know. It was impossible. She hadn’t even been around Adrien as Ladybug lately, or even as Marinette for that matter, and it didn’t make sense at all unless—

Unless—

“—but I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry. I’ve been a terrible friend for avoiding you and not telling you and Plagg kept telling me that I was being stupid, and I know I was, but—”

She felt dizzy. Breathing became even more of a difficulty, and as Marinette stared into Adrien’s eyes—those eyes, she knew those eyes—she felt herself about two seconds away from complete panic or rage, and she wasn’t sure which emotion was going to win the war waging on her mind. Her hands, which trembled fiercely, pulled back from Adrien’s like she’d been burned, and as she took a few steps backward she could see the hurt in his face, the confusion, the shame—

“...Oh,” he said, softly—quietly. “You didn’t know. I thought…”

She felt like the floor had been swept out from underneath her. Winded, shocked, betrayed—

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he said, stepping closer. “I hope you can forgive me, Marinette. It’s okay if you can’t. I… I understand.”

Marinette was quiet. Whatever words she wanted to say were caught in her throat, choking her like a rope wrapped around her neck. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. Eyes on the ground, she forced herself to breathe—

Breathe—

—before she finally mustered up the courage to look Adrien in the eye.

“How long?” she whispered, hating the miserable way her voice cracked as the words fought their way out of her mouth. “How long have you known and you didn’t tell me, Chat Noir?”

He gazed at her forlornly. It almost made her sick.

“How long?” she asked again when he didn’t reply, her breath hitching and heart feeling painfully constricted.

Adrien at least had the decency to look remorseful. “Since Friday, officially,” he said, looking away. “But I’ve suspected since our first morning together when your parents brought us the cake.”

All Marinette could do was focus on the rise and fall of her own chest. She needed to keep her breathing even, to remain calm, to process this information like a normal put-together adult, but—

But she felt so upset. All the emotional turmoil he’d put her through these past few days was all for nothing when he could have just told her. He could have told her so long ago and this all could have been avoided.

(Sure, she wouldn’t have been necessarily happy to know that he had discovered her identity so soon, but it would’ve been better than him keeping that information secret from her for so long.)

No wonder both Chat Noir and Adrien had been avoiding her. They weren’t two different people, they were one in the same, and that information was even more jarring than the fact that her identity had been revealed without her consent. 

This whole time he’d known. The entire time they’d been living together he’d known and he hadn’t said a damn thing. He didn't tell her. Why didn't he tell her?!

He tried, the voice in her head peeped, but she squashed it down with the fiery outrage she felt inside.

All the time they’d spent together… The laundromat, the night she couldn’t sleep, the dinner… 

His exhaustion. The bruise on his shoulder. It all made sense now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, refusing to be embarrassed by the pain in her voice but hating how she sounded all the same. 

Adrien shifted, his shoulders drooping. “I was afraid you’d be mad at me for figuring it out so soon,” he said. “And I know that’s not a good reason. I’m sorry.”

“And you ran away,” she spat mournfully, feeling her anger with him finally bubbling over the surface. She stepped closer to her partner, her chest feeling compressed as she fought to remain as calm as she could with the recent revelation swimming in her mind. “You left me there last night alone and then you didn’t even come home! I was so worried, I spent hours looking for you! I kept thinking I did something wrong, that it was me who messed up, but no. It was you!”

Flinching, Adrien reached out for her hand, but she quickly pulled it out of his reach. “Ladybug—”

“Don’t,” she said, hurt straining her tone. A small voice in her head told her to stop yelling, to handle this in a collected manner, but with how much distress he’d been putting her through lately she just couldn’t. “Just… Don’t.”

He stood there, his hand poised in the air like he was waiting for her to grasp it, to tell him that everything was okay, that she wasn’t mad and that they could go home and pretend like everything was normal.

But it wasn’t.

They couldn’t go back to normal anymore. Not now.

Tears blurred her vision. They burned like acid as her eyes filled with wetness. Wiping furiously at her face as the tears streamed down her cheeks, Marinette huffed and walked away, heading for the park’s exit. 

She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she didn’t care. She needed some space and more importantly, some time to think.

“Marinette, wait!” Adrien—Chat—called, his footsteps thudding closer and closer as he raced after her. 

She didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

Marinette just… kept walking.

“I’m sorry,” he said. There was a sorrowful edge to his voice that made her throat clench with emotion. He grabbed her hand, suspending her dead in her tracks. “I’m sorry, Mari, please don’t leave. We can figure this out. We can get through this together, like we always do, right?”

Sighing, Marinette kept her body taut, head facing the ground. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—look at him. She was doing so well keeping most of her composure. If she saw that his face looked just as broken as she felt, that he, too, was as much of a mess as she was, she’d be in shambles, and she couldn’t trust that she wouldn't throw herself in his arms because despite everything it was him, her partner, her best friend—

It’s him it’s him it’s—

She couldn’t.

“Please let me go,” she pleaded, her voice barely audible in the humid summer air. The sun had finally finished its descent over the city, drowning the pair in a deep blue hue. All she wanted to do was go home, sleep, and wash away the pain from how absolutely exhausted she felt, mentally and physically combined. “Please, Adrien.”

He complied. The feel of his fingers slipping through her own made her heart shatter. Despite her anger, she mourned the loss of his contact.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and she was so sick of hearing it she just sighed, shook her head, and continued on her path.

She didn’t look back to see him standing there under a lamppost, wilting like a vine suffering from drought, his hand still outstretched as the memory of her touch branded his skin with her name.

All Marinette could do was walk forward, head for home, and try not to sob.

Chapter Text

Adrien was woken by his phone ringing loudly in his ear, pulling him from the unsettled sleep he’d only just managed to slip into. 

He groaned at the shrill tones blaring into his bedroom, too exhausted and too annoyed to answer. Burying his head underneath the mass of blankets he kept on his bed, Adrien turned his body away from the source of his ire, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he fought to retrieve the warmth of slumber he’d been so rudely torn from when his phone finally went silent.

He sighed in relief. At last… Peace and quiet…

It began ringing again.

"Adrien," Plagg hissed, his squeaky voice heavy from tiredness. "Turn that off before I destroy it."

Growling in exasperation, Adrien grabbed his phone with the force of a person scorned, practically smashing it against his face as he answered whoever the hell was calling him so early in the morning.

“Hello?” he answered hoarsely, groggy and disoriented from lack of sleep.

Nino’s voice came from the other line, sounding much too awake for what Adrien assumed was the crack of dawn. “Adrien, where are you?”

Rubbing at his eyes, Adrien yawned. “Um… In bed.”

“Bed?” Nino asked. “It’s twelve in the afternoon.”

That woke Adrien up. Jolting up from his bed, he nearly threw his phone across his bedroom as he launched his blankets off his body like a goddamn space rocket and sprung to a stand. Plagg shouted as he got flung across the room. "What?" Adrien asked, panicked. "Why didn't my alarm go off? Shit—"

He was late for work. His father was going to kill him. Jumping into one of his pant legs, Adrien stumbled, his body colliding with the wooden floor. He winced and rubbed at his jaw, sore from its impact against a hard surface. How could he have been so stupid?

Why didn't Plagg say anything?!

"Dude," Nino said, and Adrien could tell by his muffled voice that his friend was stifling a laugh. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Adrien hissed, teeth gritted. "My dad's going to be pissed. I don't know why Nathalie didn't call me—"

"Adrien," Nino said. "It's Sunday."

Oh.

Sunday.

A surge of relief washed over him like a wave of cool, refreshing water. Leaning back against his bed frame, Adrien sighed, combing his fingers through his thick, messy hair and letting out a sigh. 

He didn't have to work today. Thank goodness.

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that," Adrien breathed. "I really thought I was late."

Nino chuckled. "Well, you are late, just not for work. You were supposed to meet me for lunch, remember?"

"Shit!" Leaping to his feet, Adrien finished pulling his pants up his legs, nearly tripping over a stray shirt in the process. "Sorry. Give me ten minutes. I'll be right there!"

"No rush."

Adrien cursed himself for forgetting so easily. In the hectic mess of his and Marinette's recent, uh… development, his agreement to meet Nino for lunch had completely slipped his mind. His brain was such a jumbled mess of anxiety and regret that he had barely even remembered what day it was, much less prior arrangements to meet his friend. At first he hadn't been too eager to do anything but wallow in his own remorse, but Adrien knew he needed to get out of the house and spend time with someone other than his roommate to hopefully distract himself from the slurry of self-destructive thoughts. 

Besides, Marinette hadn’t been around much lately, and when she was home it seemed like she could barely even stand to look at him, let alone speak to him. 

In fact… over the past two days, he’d seldom seen her at all.

And that's when it struck him like a knife to the heart, his chest feeling hollow with sadness:

It had already been two days.  

Adrien whimpered pathetically.

Two whole days since the fated words had accidentally tumbled out of his mouth which resulted in a confession he hadn't exactly been prepared for—a confession in which Marinette had taken with such surprise that her reaction was unfortunately much less than ideal. 

Actually, her reaction had been exactly what Adrien was afraid of, and that’s what bothered him most—the fact that his fears had come true.

Two days and she hadn't spoken to him once.

He’d barely even seen her leave her room. At this point Adrien wasn’t even sure she was still inside the apartment—not a sound came from her bedroom, and the light was rarely on. He assumed that if she’d left, she had used her transformation and fled from her balcony or slipped out when he was asleep. 

He hadn't seen her at work either. She was frustratingly skilled at avoiding him.

Maybe he was overreacting. Yes, Marinette was upset, but… What were the chances that she was just busy? That things weren’t actually as bad at they seemed and that soon she would come home from wherever she was, sit with him on their couch, talk with him in that sweet, patient voice she always used when he was feeling down and then they would fix things, repair whatever had been broken and just- just fix it, because Adrien didn’t know what he was going to do if he couldn’t mend the damage he’d caused. He would lose his entire mind—if he wasn't already starting to.

Where was she?

Is she okay? He wondered as he made his way to the bathroom. Why did she get so mad?

…Does she hate me now?

Running his fingers through his hair, Adrien sighed heavily, resisting the urge to pull at the strands from his own aggravation. He had nobody to blame for this but himself. It was him who had avoided her first. He was the one who had kept the secret from her, who had spilled it out like it was nothing when she hadn’t even been talking about it in the first place, and like a dumbass he’d just blurted it into the air like it didn’t even matter anymore, like he was talking about the fucking weather or some other mundane conversation topic. 

Stupid.

(A question burned at his mind, tore at the back of his brain like a vicious animal in waiting, wondering what—if it wasn’t about their identities—had she been trying to tell him?)

The cool chill of water splashing on his face was enough to break Adrien out of his stupor. He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, taking in his disheveled hair that had grown more than he liked, his wrinkled shirt and the bags hanging heavily under his eyes that made him look like some sort of sickly ghost. With an annoyed frown, he realized he still looked as horrible as he felt—exhausted, queasy, dead inside, all of the above combined into a disgusting display of penitence.

It had been another night with little to no sleep. His body was almost beginning to adjust to becoming nocturnal.

Feeling like a zombie, Adrien dragged himself to the kitchen, squinting at the sunlight that flooded the apartment. He’d loved those floor-to-ceiling windows at first, but now they felt too bright—blinding him with the reminder that it was already past early morning and he had spent yet another night tossing and turning in an attempt to at least get a decent amount of rest while the anxiety of the situation toyed with his head.

At least he didn’t have to wear his mask around the house anymore. That was a small positive in the middle of the shit sandwich that was his life.

Plagg floated into the kitchen, perching himself on Adrien's shoulder with a yawn big enough to show all his kitten teeth. "I need my breakfast cheese," he grumbled. His whiskers drooped from exhaustion. 

"Here." Adrien produced a wheel of camembert from the fridge and handed it to his kwami. "Hurry up, 'cuz we've gotta go."

"Meeting your girlfriend?" Plagg teased through a mouthful of stinky cheese.

"No," Adrien said. He was too tired for this. "We're meeting Nino. And she's not my girlfriend. Eat your cheese, Plagg."

"See, you say that but all you ever do is think about her and how you wanna smooch her." Swallowing the remaining bite of his breakfast, Plagg pressed himself against Adrien's cheek, making grossly obnoxious kissing noises with his little cat mouth. "'Oohh, Marinette, I love you but I'm too dumb to say so! I want to marry you and have your babies.'"

Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he grabbed Plagg by the tail. "Aaand we're leaving. Let's go."

After sending a quick text to Nino stating that he was on his way, Adrien ventured to the quaint little restaurant they had agreed to meet at, spotting his friend waiting at one of the outside tables after he’d parked his motorcycle on the side of the street. Nino’s signature red cap was always a dead giveaway. 

"Sorry," Adrien panted as he jogged to Nino’s side, out of breath. He slipped into one of the metal chairs that sat around the table, the legs screeching against the ground as he pulled it back. "I didn't sleep much last night."

Nino laughed, amused. "It's fine, man." He adjusted his glasses as he set his eyes on his friend, roaming his body up and down. Concern wove its way onto his features. "Dude, you look rough. What happened to you? There’s gotta be more that's bugging you than just a missed night of sleep."

“Bugging," Adrien thought. Nice one, Nino.

Swallowing nervously, Adrien offered a shrug in response, subconsciously pushing his bangs out of his face. Man, his hair was getting so long—he could pull it back into a small ponytail if he wanted. He was well overdue for a haircut. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

"Fine?" Nino asked in disbelief. "Adrien, I think you know by now to be honest with one of your best friends. You look like you got run over by a truck. What's up?"

Gritting his teeth, Adrien lifted up the restaurant menu to partially cover his face. "The fish looks good. I might get that. What are you getting?"

"Adrien." Raising his cap to get a better look at his friend, Nino frowned, regarding him with a flat look. "You're avoiding the question."

"Yeah, well, it's what I do best," he laughed, though the sound had no trace of humor. "Avoid things until they blow up in my face. It’s something I’ve been exceptionally good at lately.”

Nino’s eyes widened. He glanced to the side before he stared hard at his friend, eyes narrowing. “What—”

“But it’s fine!” Adrien interjected. His voice cracked as its pitch rose to an uncomfortable squeal akin to a prepubescent boy. “She hasn’t been home anyway so it’s not like I have to worry about it!”

"Marinette?" Nino asked.

Cringing, Adrien nodded, his head falling to his hands. "I fucked up, man. I fucked up so bad and I don't know how to fix it. She's really mad at me." He hated himself for the way his voice sounded, all sad and whimpery like some pitiful child. "I don't know if I can fix it."

"Yeah…" Nino said, sighing. "Alya mentioned there was something going on with her. What happened?"

What happened?

How did he tell Nino the truth? 

Correction: he couldn't tell Nino the truth. He wouldn't betray Marinette's trust like that—again—by spilling her identity to another person. He had already hurt her enough. Besides… he couldn't exactly spill the beans about his identity, either. Something something safety or whatever Plagg and Tikki had said, it didn't matter. Adrien felt numb to it all.

"We… had a fight," he said, the words struggling to escape from his mouth. "A bad one. She hasn't talked to me since Thursday." 

He wilted at the memory of Marinette's expression morphing into what he couldn't describe as anything other than betrayal, the images of her tearful blue eyes causing a sour feeling to swim in the pits of his stomach. Adrien wondered if maybe he’d told her sooner that perhaps things would be different, that maybe if they had been able to have a proper conversation their relationship wouldn't have suffered from his blunder. 

But there was no use dwelling on the what-ifs, he reminded himself—all he could do right now was focus on the reality of the situation and do whatever he could to remedy their friendship.

(And what little part of their friendship that had maybe, just slightly, developed into more.)

"What was the fight about?" Nino asked.

"I…" Adrien sighed. How did he answer that? "I… I found out something about her that I shouldn't have. Something she didn't want me to know. And then like an idiot I didn't tell her that I knew until the truth came tumbling out of my mouth on accident because of some stupid misunderstanding." He pressed his palm to his forehead, fingers rubbing at his skin from the headache of it all. "And now she's mad at me for knowing. But at the same time, I accidentally told her a secret about myself that she didn't know, a really big secret, and I think that made things worse."

Perplexed, Nino frowned in thought, placing his hand on his chin. "So… You found out something bad about her?"

"It's not bad," Adrien corrected. "Actually, it's good, because it’s something we both can relate to. But she didn't want me to know, at least… Not yet. Not if she didn't tell me first. So that's what complicates things. And it’s completely changed our relationship forever. There’s no going back now. We have to figure out a way to… deal with it, I guess."

"I'm confused,” Nino said. “Is this a sex thing? Because it kind of sounds like a sex thing." His eyes widened comically large. Leaning forward, he asked in a hushed voice, "Adrien, is she pregnant?"

Red filled Adrien's cheeks to the point where he swore he was going to combust or downright explode . He nearly spat out the water he had been sipping. Choking on the liquid caught in his throat, he coughed, wheezing as he fought to breathe.

Just the idea of having an unplanned pregnancy with his Lady was enough to make his pulse skyrocket, and not in a good way. "No!" He gasped. "Absolutely not! Marinette and I haven’t- we aren’t… We aren’t like that. It’s not like that. We’ve never…" 

We've never even kissed!

“Sorry,” Nino said, hiding his grin behind his hand. “I’m just a little confused what kind of big secret there could be that would mess things up between you two that bad. I mean, you guys have been so close lately. Just a week ago she was hanging off of you like you guys are married. I don’t get it.”

Adrien breathed out slowly, trying to calm the frustration that he felt building inside. It wasn't Nino's fault his and Marinette's lives were so complex, and he could see from an outsider's point of view how the whole situation could seem so convoluted. "I'm sorry. I wish I could explain it better."

"It's okay," Nino replied. "So, what happened after you told her that you know?”

“She blew up at me!” exclaimed Adrien, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “And I’m not saying I didn’t deserve it, but I’m still upset at how we both handled things. It was wrong of me to keep that from her as long as I did, but I just wish she’d talk to me, then maybe we could fix things. Maybe…” He sighed in defeat, head hanging low. “Maybe I messed things up between us forever. I don’t know.”

A waitress came to take their orders. Adrien appreciated the brief distraction from his inner turmoil.

Handing the menus back to the waitress as she walked away, Nino turned his attention back to Adrien, reaching out a hand to pat his own gently in reassurance. “It’s gonna be alright, Adrien. You and Marinette just need some time to sort things out, that’s all. But,” he said, crossing his arms, “that’s not gonna happen unless you actually talk to each other.”

“You’re right.” Letting out a faint sigh, Adrien met his friend’s gaze, feeling guilt rise up in him for bringing his issues into what should’ve been a nice lunch between friends. “Ugh, Nino, I’m sorry. You’ve only been back in Paris for a little over a week and here I am bothering you with my problems. We should talk about something else. How’s Alya?”

“Don’t sweat it,” Nino said, his smile genuine. “You know I’m always here for you. And Alya’s fine. I think she and Marinette are having a spa day, so I’m sure she’s having a good time.”

The mention of Marinette’s name caused Adrien’s heart to skip a beat. Ugh, he hated how excited he got just hearing her name—one mention of his Lady and he could feel his metaphorical tail wagging with delight. He was so far gone… It was disgusting. 

Even with tension so high between them at the moment, he still couldn’t stop thinking about her. Nearly every thought that occupied his mind as of late had been of Marinette—of Ladybug, his best friend, his partner, his first and only love. So desperately did he wish that things could just go back to the way they were, back to the nights they’d watched cheesy movies together, baked cookies together, snuggled in bed and held each other until the sun rose in the morning, bathing his beautiful Lady in warm, radiant light and illuminating the thousands of freckles that decorated her smooth, smooth skin.

His heart ached. He missed her so badly. 

“Nino,” he said after a moment, voice quiet. “What do I do if… If Marinette doesn’t like me anymore? If she doesn’t want to live with me anymore?”

“I think you’re worrying too much,” Nino said. He thanked the waitress as their food arrived, gazing longingly at the delectable looking cheeseburger that sat on his plate. “Marinette likes you way too much to stay mad for long. Just give her time.”

“But what do I do?” Adrien asked, desperate. “Just in case.”

Nino dug into his food, apparently unable to wait any longer. “Look man,” he said around a mouthful of food. “If you really want my opinion, here’s what I think you should do: just talk to her. Tell her how you feel.” He paused to swallow. “And maybe take a vacation. You’re stressing too much and you look exhausted. I think you could use a break.”

“A vacation?” echoed Adrien, his brow quirking in confusion. He eyed his own plate of food with mild interest, not having much of an appetite.

Nino nodded. “Which brings me to my next question,” he said. “I know it’s super last minute, but Alya and I found a nice cabin to rent this week to take a brief vacation in the countryside. Can you come with us? I think it’d be good for you to spend a few days in nature and de-stress.”

“What?” Bewildered from the sudden turn in conversation, Adrien shook his head to clear the muddled thoughts that swam in his brain. “Like, this week, this week? My dad would kill me if I just took off like that.”

“All the more reason to.”

“And besides,” Adrien continued. “I can’t just intrude on you and Alya’s personal time. I wouldn’t wanna be a third wheel on your romantic getaway. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to change your plans to include me just because I’m having a hard time.”

It was really nice of Nino to offer, but he couldn’t do that, could he? Just run off with barely any notice to his father because he needed a break? 

Which, if he was being honest with himself, he did need a break… He’d barely been sleeping lately, his and Marinette’s argument replaying in his mind at all hours of the night and preventing him from falling asleep at a decent hour. Plus, the fashion industry was in one of its most insane seasons and he was truly worn out from the agonizingly long shifts spent standing in front of a camera, changing outfits a hundred times a day and nearly being set ablaze underneath the boiling hot lights. Being a model was more exhausting than it looked—Adrien knew that if he didn’t take a day to relax soon, he would end up passing out in front of his photographers, and that wouldn’t bode well for the Gabriel brand.

But, still… Though the idea sounded nice, he couldn’t run away from his problems like that. Adrien knew he’d had his fair share of running away this week and he couldn’t bear to avoid Marinette any longer, even if she was choosing to not speak to him. He couldn’t just take a sudden vacation while Marinette sat at home by herself. He’d feel horrible doing that to her, even if she desired her space. 

After all, he knew from personal experience that being alone when you’re hurting is the quickest way to depression. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—let her suffer through this alone.

“I don’t know, Nino,” Adrien said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

Nino smirked. “Marinette’s coming.”

Oh.

Oh.

Well, that changed some things.

A few days away in a cabin with two of his best friends and Marinette? Marinette, whom he wanted nothing more than to spend time with? Marinette, who he wanted to speak to so badly that it hurt , who he wanted to wrap in his arms and apologize and tell her that he would never betray her trust again, and that he loved her more than the Earth loved the sun itself?

That Marinette?

“Okay,” was all Adrien could say, his voice breathy. “Yes. I’m in.”

“What’s he doing here?”

Adrien flinched at Marinette’s tone. His face fell from her comment and his heart sank painfully to the floor. Snapping his eyes to meet hers, he stared hard at his partner, watching as she nervously wrung her hands around the fabric of her pink cotton T-shirt.

At least she had the decency to look surprised that she’d uttered the words out loud, Adrien thought, her eyes widening and lips thinning to a tight, straight line. 

Alya nudged her on the shoulder, aghast. “Marinette! ” she gasped, teeth gritted. Under her breath she hissed for Marinette to be nice.

Adrien frowned, feeling bitter. He hated being the source of Mari’s ire. “I was invited,” he replied curtly, hauling his bags into the trunk of the black Maserati borrowed from his father’s garage. “Same as you.”

Marinette was silent.

“Is that a problem?” Adrien asked when she didn’t respond, knowing he was pushing his luck but feeling brave enough to tread dangerous waters anyway. He regarded her with a raised brow in challenge. 

Marinette turned away from him, her eyes glued to the floor. “No,” she frostily retorted. “Not at all.” 

Alya and Nino shared an uncomfortable glance, the awkwardness in the air rising to near suffocating levels.

Yikes. Adrien felt a tad guilty for dragging their friends into… whatever it was he and Marinette were dealing with.

He’d apologize to them later.

A grunt came from Marinette’s direction. She placed her hands on her hips, staring down at her array of bags with her brows furrowed as she calculated their weight. She lifted her luggage one bag at a time, pink and white spotted suitcases of what Adrien assumed was her own design, placing each carefully into the trunk of the vehicle. 

He watched with mild amusement as she struggled to lift a particularly large bag. Her body strained with the effort of whatever the hell she’d stuffed in there—rocks, he assumed, from how heavy it looked—the determination on her face almost enough for him to leave her to handle it on her own, but the gentleman inside him eventually won out as he found himself standing at her side. 

“Let me help you,” he said, reaching out to grasp the handle of the luggage.

Marinette dragged it away from him. “I’ve got it.”

Sighing, Adrien stood back, allowing her to slowly—slowly —grapple with the suitcase until it had been shoveled into his car, her legs trembling from the strain on her muscles. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

This was getting exhausting. All he wanted was to talk to her, to help her—but she wouldn’t even let him do that.

With the sun shining outside the apartment complex and the sky beautifully, exceptionally blue, the weather proved to be fair for the remainder of the day. A light breeze blew through his hair, the decorative trees situated on the side of the street swaying slightly with the sweet, summer air. Adrien took in a breath through his nose, enjoying the faint scent of pastries and spice that greeted his nostrils from the bakery next to their complex—not anywhere near as good as Marinette’s parents’, but still tantalizing in the way that only fresh baked bread could be.

Adrien leaned back against a streetlamp, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he surveyed his small group of friends. Nino and Alya had agreed to meet Marinette and himself at their place, and that had been strange—Adrien practically felt exposed having his friends inside the home he’d been living in almost exclusively as Chat Noir for nearly two months. Together they had carried their bags down to the car, loading up the trunk as much as was necessary for a small trip to the wilderness. They wouldn’t need much, no tents or camping gear since they’d be staying in a rental cabin, but a few supplies were still required.

“Nino, stop fussing,” Alya said, pulling Adrien out of his reverie. She smoothed her hand over the barely noticeable roundness of her belly, tutting as her fiancé placed his palms over her own. “I’m fine! It’s only a week. The baby’s not due for a few more months, relax.”

“But your back hurts,” Nino said, a slight whine in his tone. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? We won’t be near a hospital.”

“Babe, chill out.” She cupped Nino’s cheek in her hand, caressing his skin with her thumb. “We’ve packed every possible thing we could ever need and more. Let’s go already, okay? I want to at least have some daylight left when we get there.”

Nino sighed in defeat. He gave his fiancée a quick peck on the lips before lifting his last bag into the car, shutting the trunk with an anxious expression woven onto his features. “Just tell me if you need anything.”

“I’m getting in the car now,” Alya sighed. She slipped into the front passenger side of the vehicle, closing the door behind her.

Adrien stood to the side awkwardly. He patted his legs, blowing a tuft of blonde hair out of his face. Feeling brave, his eyes roamed to Marinette, watching as her ponytail danced in the warmth of the summer air. The freckles that dusted her skin were generously in bloom from the bright sun, dotting her cheeks, nose, arms and thighs; the sight alone was enough to pull a small grin to Adrien’s face. It wasn’t often that Marinette wore shorts, and he found it embarrassingly hard to tear his eyes away from her bare legs—smooth, pale skin toned from years of running across rooftops with him by her side. 

Chancing a peek at her face, Adrien’s smile widened at the way her nose scrunched as a wayward leaf landed on her shoulder. The brief contact startled her enough to cause her to flinch and squeak in surprise. 

He chuckled. Man, she was too stinkin’ cute. His heart couldn’t handle it. He wanted to kiss her so bad.

Having caught her attention, Adrien only held her gaze for a brief moment before she blushed and glanced away. Clearing her throat, she stepped into the car herself, opting for the back.

Well. Alright then.

Time to get going.

Just as he was about to open the door to the driver’s side of the Maserati, Nino hastily placed his hand over his own, his eyes sparkling with excitement and grin all too wide. “Wait,” Nino said, pleading. “Adrien, let me drive. Can I, please? I’ve always wanted to drive a fancy car.”

Adrien gave a playful roll of his eyes, tossing the keys to his friend and stepping to the side. “Knock yourself out.”

Nino caught them mid-air. “Yes! ”

As he positioned himself into the back seat of the car, Adrien felt his inner panic rising as his shoulder brushed Marinette’s. She was pointedly looking away from him—he could tell, damn it—her blue eyes seemingly enraptured by whatever was going on outside the window, which was an incredibly exciting amount of nothing.

He bit back the groan that had nearly risen in his throat, stifling the anxiety that began to bubble in his chest as he inched himself away from her for her comfort—not his own. Never his own.

Sparing her a brief glance, he offered a smile but felt disappointment wash over his body as Marinette gave him a small, sad frown in return.

Adrien turned his eyes away. 

It was going to be a long drive.

Chapter Text

The drive was long and arduous. 

Every time Adrien so much as looked in Marinette’s direction, her muscles would tense as if all of the thoughts in her head were waging a war against themselves. Her fingers twitched at her sides and each moment he felt her gaze on him and would chance a glance at her face, she’d blush and immediately tear her eyes away like she was embarrassed.

It hurt.

Adrien didn’t try to spark up a conversation with her despite how badly he wanted to hear her voice. There was no point—she’d either ignore him or give a snippy retort in return, and he did not want to force Alya and Nino to listen to an argument while they were trapped in a car with them. It wasn't their fault he and Marinette weren't getting along… He wouldn't subject them to another awkward encounter.

Instead, Adrien focused on the view from the window, watching as the plethora of apartments and buildings faded away into rolling hills and vineyards. The sky was still just as blue as it was this morning, and as he peered at the clouds, the sun peeked through their fluffy exterior and shone down on the grassy fields below.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been driving. It felt like forever. 

The atmosphere between Marinette and himself was almost insufferable. Being confined in a vehicle next to her and unable to utter a single word pained Adrien physically—he felt like an animal imprisoned in a small cage, his claws scratching at the glass. The urge to reach over and grab her hand nearly overwhelmed him, but he refrained—there was no use in making her even more uncomfortable than she already felt.

(Even if all he wanted was to feel her fingers entwined with his own.)

On the radio played classic French pop songs to occupy the stifling silence from the back seat. The sound of Alya and Nino talking was comforting in a way, and as Adrien found his eyelids becoming heavy, he didn’t bother to fight off the impending sleepiness. He hadn’t slept much the night before, both too excited and nervous about their trip, his anxieties keeping him awake as he had, at this point, grown very accustomed to.

One look at Marinette proved that she was also feeling a bit weary. With her head resting against the seat, her gaze was concentrated outside her own window but not entirely focused, her blue irises clouded with exhaustion. Her eyes, obviously heavy, blinked very slowly, and as her head began to droop, Adrien smiled. He didn’t have the proper words to describe how unbelievably cute she was. 

Marinette caught herself before she slumped over completely, eventually giving up and letting her fatigue win out as she reclined back against the seat and shut her eyes. 

Adrien wondered if she’d been having trouble sleeping as well. He pondered for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest and thinking that maybe if they both hadn’t been so tired the day of his confession, things would have been handled a lot differently… Maybe… Maybe they’d even be talking right now, and he wouldn’t be… Falling… Asleep…

…

“Adrien, wake up.”

No, he replied internally. I’m comfy.

Whatever pillow his head rested upon was like the softest silk, its scent as sweet and clean as fresh lavender and honey, traveling from his nostrils and up into his brain where it implanted itself snuggly within his thoughts. It reminded him of sunsets spent shooting the breeze on rooftops, laughing with his partner by his side; of late evenings curled up next to his best friend in her bed after they’d fallen asleep while watching a movie; of home, a comfort like no other that warmed his heart and caused giddiness to fill his body from head to toe.

“Can you two stop cuddling and wake up already?” Alya’s voice broke Adrien out of his slumber, causing his eyes to snap open wide. “We’re here.”

“What?” he asked, groggy. Lifting his head from the perfectly snug surface he’d been lying on, Adrien yawned, stretching his arms out in front of him. He paused as he felt movement on his shoulder, the familiar weight that had been comfortably perched there stirring awake. 

Feeling well rested, Adrien smiled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Funny… That one short nap had felt just as great as a full night’s rest. 

It was familiar of the times he and Marinette had accidentally drifted off together on their couch. They would talk into the late hours of the night about what little details they could share from their lives, voices growing weary and heads feeling heavy as they eventually found themselves slipping into a peaceful sleep, leaning against each other’s body as if no pillow in the world could feel more comfortable than their partner…

Adrien froze.

His eyes widened. He looked down.

Marinette had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, her face pressed cozily against his neck. Her lips—so soft—just barely grazed his skin as she peeled herself away from him, Adrien’s cheeks quickly warming from the delicate brush of her mouth on his body. She moved slowly at first, dazed from sleep, but as she noticed whom she’d been using as a headrest she shot across the backseat of the car and nearly flung herself out the open door and onto the gravel path below, her face competing with the color of her suit for how red it had flushed.

“Alya!” she screeched, watching in horror as Alya snapped photo after photo of their predicament. She clawed after her friend’s cell phone like an angry cat, swatting in haste to retrieve the device. Struggling to unbuckle her seatbelt, Marinette groaned, finally releasing herself from the confines of the vehicle and racing after her best friend. “Delete those pictures! It was an accident!”

Alya’s laughter rang across the yard as she danced away, taunting Marinette with a wave of her phone in her hands. “I’m gonna send them to your parents!”

“No!” Marinette bolted in Alya’s direction. “Don’t do that!”

Despite his mild embarrassment, Adrien chuckled behind his hand. His eyes followed the pair as they chased each other around the lawn.

Well… That would keep the two of them entertained for a while, at least.

Stepping out of the car and stretching out his sore muscles, Adrien sighed, breathing in the air around him. The sun was still shining brightly above, heating his skin with a pleasant tingle. Birds chirped in the trees, and the sound of a brook bubbling nearby tickled his ears as he took in the scene in front of him. 

The cabin was quaint—tiny but cozy, it sat on top of a small hill, nestled comfortably under an overhang of trees. Down the hill was a little lake, the still surface of the water like reflective glass as it mirrored the blue sky above them. Between two oak trees a hammock was strung, looking incredibly inviting as another yawn fought its way out of Adrien’s body with enough force to cause wetness to prick at the corner of his eyes.

He rubbed his face. Man, that one nap had been some of the best sleep he’d been able to procure as of late. He was almost bitter that he’d been ripped away from it as early as he had.

(He didn’t want to think about the implication that he had only slept so well because Marinette had been curled up against his side.)

Following Nino into the interior of the cabin, Adrien slung his bag over his shoulder, craning his neck as he took in the open ceiling. The roof connected in an arch, and as he stood near the fireplace, he gaped at the large windows that stretched from the floor all the way to the top of their temporary vacation home. There was a small open kitchen with a wooden dining table, and above the main room was a dangling chandelier that appeared as if it were made of branches. Toward the back of the cabin was a staircase leading to what Adrien assumed were the bedrooms.

“This is nice,” Adrien said, turning so that he faced Nino. “Yeah, I can definitely feel my stress melting away just by standing here. It’s so quiet compared to the city.”

“It’s weird, right?” Nino asked. “I’m so used to hearing sirens every ten seconds that this kind of quiet is almost unsettling.”

Laughing at his comment, Adrien allowed himself another look around the place, wincing as his bag weighed down his shoulder. It was a little too heavy to carry for a long period of time despite that he hadn’t packed more than just a few pairs of clothing and necessities (which mostly consisted of wheels of camembert for his picky kwami.) 

He moved toward the staircase, peering up at the first landing. “Which room should I take? I wanna put my stuff down.”

Nino’s eyes widened. As he nervously scratched at the back of his neck, he chuckled, glancing toward the front door that he’d left ajar. Alya and Marinette’s voices could be heard from outside, Marinette’s empty threats traveling through the air. 

“Haha,” Nino wheezed. “About that…”

“I can’t believe you sent that to my mom,” Marinette interrupted, practically stomping into the main room of the house. She dusted off her knees, which were stained brown with dirt, and pulled her wet T-shirt away from her body as it began to stick to her skin. Droplets of water dripped from the damp fabric, its pink color darkened from a mixture of mud and water. “You know what she’s going to think, Alya!”

Alya squealed with laughter. “Precisely why I sent it!”

Grumbling, Marinette flopped onto the couch, plucking blades of grass out of her tousled hair. “It’s not funny,” she pouted, though the corner of her lips twitched upward into a slight grin. “I fell into the stream, Alya. Not even five minutes on vacation and I’m already filthy.”

Biting her lip as she stifled what was undoubtedly bouts of giggling, Alya said, “I got pictures of that, too.”

Marinette buried her head in her hands. “I hate you.”

Sticking out her tongue, Alya said, “Go change then, grumpy.”

“My bags are in the car.”

"So go get them."

"No," Marinette sighed. She laid down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. "They're heavy."

"Do you want me to grab them for you?" Adrien blurted, regretting the words that had surprised even himself as soon as they passed his lips.

Marinette opened her mouth to respond with what would undoubtedly be a "no," but Nino interrupted before she could speak, grasping Adrien's wrist and pulling him toward the door. "We will go grab the bags,” he said. “You girls just relax."

Adrien frowned. "What—"

Nino shut the door to the cabin behind them once they were outside. Leading him to the car that was parked on the gravel path, he eyed Adrien warily—almost apologetically—as he began to grab Alya's bags from the trunk. 

Adrien narrowed his eyes. "Okay, you're acting suspicious. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Nino said, shrugging as nonchalantly as he could while simultaneously looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Nothing at all.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

“Get your bags,” Nino said, the smile that was plastered along his face causing Adrien to feel just a wee bit on edge. “You can put them in the bedroom to the right side of the stairs. You can put Marinette’s in there, too, since uh…  Sinceyou’resharingaroom."

"Since- what?" Cocking his head to the side, Adrien began hauling Marinette's luggage out of the car, deciding that yes—she had indeed packed rocks in her suitcase. "I didn't quite catch that."

Nino laughed. He laughed and grinned, hiding his face behind the visor of his cap as his lips turned upward into a wicked sort of smirk . "There's only two bedrooms, man."

What.

Adrien felt his blood turn to ice. Eyes widening, he gaped at his friend, feeling at a complete loss for words despite that his mouth was flopping open and closed like a goddamn fish out of water gasping for air. Shaking his head, he placed a hand on his forehead and resisted the urge to dig his nails into his skin. 

"You didn't," he whispered. He felt like the ground had disappeared from beneath him entirely, leaving him to float in space as he disconnected from his own body. "You asshole."

Slinging one of his bags over his shoulder, Nino patted his friend's arm, gracing him with an apologetic smile. "Hey, it wasn't my idea. Alya thought it might help you guys get over whatever is going on between you two."

Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought to contain his frustration. "Nino," he hissed. "Please tell me we at least don't have to share a bed."

Of all things Nino could do, he giggled. 

Adrien wanted to jump into the lake and drown.

"I'm dead," he whimpered, his legs feeling as if they were turning to jello. He had to sit on the trunk of the car to keep himself from keeling over. "I'm dead. She's gonna kill me in my sleep."

"Oh, would you relax?" Nino said, patting him on the back. "You two were just snuggling it up in the car. You'll be fine!"

"That wasn't intentional!"

"Who cares," Nino laughed. "She was nuzzling against you like you're her favorite cuddle buddy. Seems like she’s already pretty familiar with sharing your bed."

"I told you, we've never—"

"I didn't mean like that," Nino responded. He paused, grinning deviously as he placed his hand on his chin in thought. "Though, if that were to happen here, this is a pretty romantic spot—"

"Shut up," Adrien said. His face felt as hot as the sun and was undoubtedly just as red as the center of its fire. "She doesn't like me like that."

"You're so dense," Nino laughed, pulling Adrien to his feet and leading him back to the cabin. "Have you seen the way she looks at you? She wants to devour you."

"Do I have permission to kill myself?"

"Not before you and Marinette figure out how to use all that pent up sexual tension."

"Killing myself," Adrien said, walking down the hill and toward the lake. He gave a half-hearted wave. "Going to drown now. Bye."

Nino tutted, dragging him back toward the cabin while laughter broke out of him in waves. "Come on," he said, his smile blinding. "Let's get our stuff inside."

He couldn't look at her.

Cheeks so hot that he felt as if he'd been branded, Adrien set Marinette's bags down in their room—their room, oh god—and took a deep, collected breath. 

There was, indeed, only one bed.

Adrien decided that today was the day he got convicted for murder. Nino and Alya were hilarious. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

Maybe both.

Inside the bedroom was a bathroom with its own Jacuzzi tub and walk-in shower, two sinks and two mirrors—perfect for a couple. The bed itself wasn’t overly large but in no means small, looking incredibly tempting to his sleep-deprived brain. The view outside the room was breathtaking, the large sliding glass door leading to a balcony where bright green trees stood tall. The lake was visible from their room, still beautifully reflective, and below them was a wooden deck decorated with globe lights and a fire pit.

It really was relaxing. Too bad the mood had been sullied by the thought of Marinette and himself having to share a bedroom when they were in the middle of an extremely awkward rift in their friendship.

(Nino’s comments replayed in his head, and Adrien had to hide the heat of his blush behind the collar of his shirt before he walked back into the main room and embarrassed himself further, because the idea of Marinette wanting him like that was almost too much for him to handle.

Almost.)

Truthfully, he didn’t mind sharing a room with Marinette. In fact, had they gone on this little trip a week prior, he would’ve been more than happy to split a bedroom, and he was sure Marinette wouldn’t have been so against the idea either considering they used to have sleepovers all the time as teenagers and especially since they had become so comfortable sharing a bed at home. But now…

Now he would do whatever he could to give her space. If she didn’t want to share a bed with him, that was fine. He would sleep on the couch if need be… Whatever made Marinette happy.

All he wanted was for Marinette to be happy.

Still… There was nothing that could compare waking up next to the love of his life in the morning, getting to see her sleeping face and messy bedhead, the sun shining on her gorgeous features and her long, dark eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. It was a sight Adrien had grown very attached to, even if they weren’t dating.

Which at this point… He wasn’t entirely sure if they were ever going to. He truly didn't know how she felt about him—even if the signs had been there that she had maybe, just maybe liked him as more than a friend, that was ruined now. 

Things had gone too wrong.

Adrien wilted. How did they let their relationship get so messed up? How could they allow their seven-year friendship to suffer from one stupid mistake?

Even if that mistake was a really big mistake…?

Sighing, Adrien ventured outside the room and stood on the second level, feeling his heart sink painfully in his chest. He peered down over the railing as he heard Nino and Alya discussing what they should make for dinner, and though he didn’t have much of an appetite, a meal with his friends sounded appealing anyway. 

He wasn’t sure where Marinette had gone. Should he even bother looking for her?

“Adrien?”

The sound of her voice nearly startled him out of his skin. Practically leaping off of the ground and clutching onto the banisters like a terrified cat, Adrien turned, setting his wide green eyes on the one person he wanted to talk to more than anyone else in the world. His breath felt caught in his throat and his lungs were tight as his body fought to function under her gaze. 

Marinette looked nervous. Tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear, she shifted her feet, toying with the hem of her dirty T-shirt as she glanced back and forth from his face to the floor. 

“Yeah?” he asked, unsure if his voice could even be heard from how quiet it was.

Marinette stared at her shoes. “Um, which room did you put my stuff in? I’d like to change out of these muddy clothes.”

Haha. Oh boy.

“The- that one,” he said, standing as still as a statue as he motioned to his right with his hand. “But, um—”

“Thanks.”

The world felt as if it were moving in slow motion. He knew what Marinette would see in there, watching warily as she made her way to the bedroom—she would see her bags placed neatly on the bed, directly next to his own, and he knew, Adrien knew she would—

“Adrien.” Her voice came from the bedroom, void of any emotion. “Why is your stuff in here?”

Hahaha. Haha. Ha…

The world had a sick sense of humor, Adrien thought, having him be the one to tell Marinette that the reason his bags were in the same room as hers was because there were only two bedrooms and Alya and Nino hated them and loved making a mess of things.

Apprehensively, Adrien poked his head into the doorway, peering at Marinette with a sheepish grin on his face. She was standing by the bed with her hands on her hips, her expression hard as she stared at the bags sitting innocently on the mattress as if they’d murdered her parents. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“Well, y’know,” Adrien laughed, the sound devoid of any real humor and instead full of fear. “Alya and Nino have always loved meddling, haven’t they?"

Marinette breathed out a long, drawn-out sigh, placing her palm to her face as she fought to control the irritation he could clearly see on her expression. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “I’m gonna kill them.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t my idea,” Adrien rushed to explain. “I would never want to make you uncomfortable, so I—”

“I know.”

“—I’ll sleep on the couch if need be,” he continued, his panic rising as he attempted to quell the budding argument he could feel rising in the air. “And I can move my stuff. You can have the room, Marinette, it’s okay—”

Marinette shook her head. “Don’t- don’t worry about it, Adrien. It’s not your fault they decided to do this.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, Marinette took another moment to collect herself before she began unzipping the biggest of her suitcases, which was not, to Adrien’s surprise, full of rocks. Instead, there was an array of different clothes, her sketchbook, and a large box of cookies—for Tikki, he assumed.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien said after a moment, head drooping. “I didn’t mean for things to go this way between you and I. I wish I’d—”

“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” Marinette said, a slight bite in her tone. “Can I, um… Can I have the room for a moment, please? I need to change and feed Tikki, so…”

At the mention of her name, the little red kwami poked her head out of the suitcase and gave Adrien a small wave. She looked just as uncomfortable with the situation as Adrien himself felt, her antennae drooping and mouth turned down into a tiny frown. 

He could feel his face wilting as he nodded. “Okay,” he said, unable to hide the sadness in his voice as he shut the door behind him, leaving his partner to her lonesome just as she’d requested.

At least Marinette was speaking to him now. That was a minor improvement.

“Man, she’s still upset?” Plagg squeaked, peeking out from the pocket of Adrien’s pants. “I thought she would’ve gotten over this by now.”

“Be quiet, Plagg,” he sighed. “I don't blame her for feeling upset.”

“Human emotions are too confusing. Why doesn’t she just eat some cheese? She’ll feel better.”

“That’s not how we do things,” Adrien told him. “Now hush, before Nino and Alya hear you.”

Grumbling, Plagg zipped out from his pocket and flew to sit on top of one of the banisters, grooming his whiskers like any self-respecting cat would. Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Thank goodness his kwami at least had the decency to remain out of sight.

Making his way down the stairs and placing himself on the couch in the main room, Adrien frowned, resting his head in his hands. While his friends discussed dinner and Marinette took some time to herself, all Adrien could do was stare out the windows and watch the sun begin its slow descent behind the trees, his chest feeling empty and small.

The rest of the evening went by in a breeze. After dinner—which hadn’t been as awkward as Adrien had expected it to be, since Marinette was at least looking at him now—the four of them ventured out onto the deck where they gathered around the fire pit to watch the sun go down and make s’mores. 

Apparently that’s what people did when they went camping—make s’mores. Adrien wouldn’t know. He’d never been. He had been pleasantly surprised by the taste, which was a delicious combination of chocolate, marshmallow and graham cracker that he never would have thought would taste so amazing together but wow, it did. The act of holding a marshmallow over a sizzling fire and watching as its color changed into a toasty brown was mesmerizing, and he might’ve set one or two ablaze, but who was counting?

He laughed when a bit of marshmallow stuck to the tip of Marinette’s nose. To his delight, she laughed in return, before she realized just who she was laughing with and stopped abruptly, her eyes falling to the crackling embers of the fire in what Adrien could only describe as embarrassment.

She looked guilty. 

All Adrien could think about was how badly he wanted to make her smile.

(The urge to kiss the dollop off her nose had been all too strong, but Adrien resisted. 

He'd resist forever if need be, no matter how it pained him to do so.)

Once it got dark, Alya and Nino turned in for the night. They offered some lame excuse that they were “so, so tired from the drive” and needed to head to bed early, leaving Marinette and himself to sit around the fire in silence. The only sound that filled the air was the crackling of wood in flame. Adrien watched as tiny, hot cinders danced into the air and floated up near the globe lights that were strung along the canopy of trees.

It was easy to remain quiet when the one person he wanted to talk to didn’t seem to be able to find the courage to locate her voice. Adrien couldn’t exactly find his, either.

He wanted to talk to her—god, all he wanted to do was talk to her and tell her he was sorry and hug her and- and just hold her like nothing else in the world mattered, because truthfully at the moment she was the only thing that did, and he was so overwhelmed with the desire to both give her space and kiss her senseless that he couldn’t fucking think—

“The stars,” Marinette said, startling Adrien out of his thoughts, his heart racing excitedly because she was talking to him, actually talking— “You can see so many of them out here.”

“Yeah,” Adrien responded. His eyes immediately flicked up to the sky, dazzled by the sheer amount of white specks that hung above him. “Um…”

Marinette looked up as he spoke, her blue eyes blazing from the heat of the fire. The orange light illuminated her body as if she was made of gold, flickering flames causing shadows to dance over her skin in the darkness of the forest like she was part of the embers herself. Beautiful, breathtaking, intimidating, Marinette was all of it and more.

“I meant what I said, by the way,” he continued. “About me sleeping on the couch. I really don’t mind.”

Shaking her head, Marinette frowned, turning her head to the inky black above them. She seemed mesmerized by the sheer amount of constellations that sparkled in the sky. “I said not to worry about it.”

“But I am worrying about it,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat to contain its waver. “I know you’re upset, Mari, and I understand why. And I’m so sorry. I know you want your space and I really don’t mind giving it to you.”

“I said it’s fine,” Marinette responded. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch. We’ve shared a bed before.”

Adrien’s mouth curled downward. Quietly, he said, “But that was before—”

“Before what?” she asked. “Before you told me?”

He nodded helplessly.

Marinette shrugged, finally, finally holding his gaze. “I’m still upset,” she said, her voice calmer than he had expected. “I wish you would’ve said something sooner.”

He deflated. “I know. I wish I had, too.”

“I was really hurt when you started avoiding me,” she said, her perfectly pink, kissable lips pulling downward into a frown. “I didn’t know what I had done to upset you. I thought it was because I asked you to…” 

“You asked me to…?”

Instead of finishing that sentence, however, Marinette just shook her head and sighed. “I’m still hurt. I’m not happy that you kept that secret from me and avoided me. But…”

But…?

Lifting his head up, Adrien met her eyes, hope flaring in his chest and his body feeling light. 

“...But maybe I overreacted a bit,” she finished. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And I’ve been avoiding you too. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he rushed to say, standing out of his chair as he found himself reaching for her, but pulling back a moment later when he realized that it might be a bit too soon to envelope her in an embrace. “I don’t blame you, Marinette.”

And then she smiled—a small, sad little smile that was barely noticeable on her face, still as beautiful as the sun after rain, even when she was feeling down. The second it appeared it was gone. As she lifted herself from her seat and fiddled with her shirt sleeve, her hand cupped her other arm as she fought to find what to do with the nervous energy buzzing in her body.

“I’m, um…” She glanced toward the sliding glass door. “I’m gonna go to bed, okay?”

“Okay,” he breathed, stunned. 

“Goodnight.”

Adrien watched as she left, his eyes trailing her body the entire walk through the cabin. Her ponytail swished behind her, the low light of the fire illuminating her until she made her way up the staircase and disappeared behind the door of their shared bedroom.

Adrien sighed, knowing that she carried his heart in her hands the whole way there. As a soft smile graced his face, he felt relief wash over him like a breath of fresh air, and his head felt just a little bit lighter. 

He was so in love with her. Every little thing she did, every smile, every laugh, every time she even so much as looked at him he would instantly perk up like he’d been given a high dosage of caffeine. Every fiber in his body burned just from her touch alone. And she had talked to him—actually talked for the first time in days. He didn't know what to do with the fit of happiness he felt rising in his chest. 

Adrien still felt dazed. Had she really spoken to him? Had she apologized? Was this all a dream…?

Despite himself, he let out a giddy little laugh, tears of pure unadulterated joy pricking at the corners of his eyes. He placed a hand to his forehead in disbelief. 

He couldn't stop smiling. 

How he was supposed to sleep now, he wasn’t sure, but he turned in anyway. Marinette was already settled into bed by the time he made it to their room—their room, oh man—her eyes closed and breathing even as she lay on her side with her back facing the door. The blanket was pulled up around her shoulders; she looked so irresistibly cozy that it took everything in Adrien’s power to resist the desire to curl up beside her and wrap his arms around her body, pull her close and pepper her adorable face with thousands of kisses and tell her that he loved her, he loved her, he loved—

He changed into his pajamas in the bathroom. Slipping into bed next to her, Adrien slid under the covers slowly, taking great care to not disturb his Lady. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt her rest when he knew that she of all people deserved a good night's sleep.

Her eyes shot open anyway, so perfectly, beautifully blue that he nearly sighed from how absolutely gone he was for her. 

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she murmured back. Her eyelashes, so naturally long and dainty, batted against her cheeks.

They didn’t say anything else after that—Adrien wasn’t even sure there was anything to say—but as he relaxed into the mattress and settled next to her, he could've sworn that Marinette scooted just an inch or two closer.

Adrien knew they still needed to have a conversation about what had happened between them. Yes, he and Marinette had apologized to each other, but their relationship still required work. Their fight had been messy—the avoidance, the tears, the aftermath. They needed just a little more time to sort things out before their lives could go back to normal—as normal as they could be knowing each other's superhero identities, at least.

He didn't mind. Adrien would give her all the time in the world if she needed it.

His fingers brushed her own underneath the covers. Bravely, Adrien reached out, allowing his skin to connect with hers for a moment—just a moment—before he pulled back and rested his hand at his side.

Marinette's eyes were closed, but as Adrien surveyed her face, he caught the beginnings of a small, contented smile blessing her cheeks.

Sleep came easily to him that night. 

Everything was easier with his partner by his side.

Chapter Text

Adrien was fast asleep.

As Marinette watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, she smiled. He was nestled so comfortably next to her in bed that it was quite the endearing picture. 

He seemed so perfect, she thought, taking in the sight of his hair that had grown just a bit too lengthy, the long blonde eyelashes that fluttered against his cheeks as he slept, and the handsome curve of his jaw which looked so kissable that she had to physically restrain herself from leaning forward and placing her lips on his skin.

She could see it now, how closely his features resembled her partner's. Deep down she knew she always could, it had just never been as obvious to her before. Yet as she lay in bed next to him, her eyes roaming his face and studying his features, she could see Chat Noir clear as day—the same shape of his nose, the same set of his jaw, the same hands she’d become so accustomed to grasping in her own… And there were other things too, like his adorable laugh and those green, green eyes that she would recognize anywhere, because those were Chat Noir’s eyes—so full of love and mirth that they couldn’t possibly belong to anyone else but her very best friend.

Marinette's smile widened. With the moonlight streaming in through the windows, Adrien looked ethereal, shining like a golden brand of sunlight in the otherwise dark room.

Reaching up with a hesitant hand, she carded her fingers through his hair, combing his bangs away from his forehead and resting her palm on the back of his head. The silky strands were incredibly soft; her skin nearly buzzed from how nice it felt just to simply touch him. Allowing her fingers to brush his body in a gentle motion, she sighed, thankful that her ministrations didn't even cause him to stir.

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure why she’d begun avoiding him.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Adrien had been the one to avoid her first. She was stubborn like that, she supposed. Though it hurt to spend time away from her partner, the fact that he had been lying to her was far worse a pain than she had ever expected, like a thorn snagging her skin and piercing her flesh deep into the bone. 

She despised it when people lied to her, but she hated being mad at him even more. It was exhausting— painfully exhausting to the point where she hadn't been able to catch a wink of sleep for days because whenever she closed her eyes, all she could see was his heartbroken expression bleeding into her dreams and causing her to wake with a start, tears streaming down her cheeks and her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

Marinette frowned. Scooting toward his warmth, she pressed her face against his chest and relished the sense of security he provided to her weary mind.

Guilt had long since seeped into her veins. She hadn't even been able to look at him for the past few days. The memory of how she'd taken his heart and shattered it in her fist too painful to bear, and her chest ached each time the image of his remorseful gaze flashed into her head. She’d felt so upset that it had completely overwhelmed her senses and better judgment.

Her irritation with him stemmed from multiple points, but the two main reasons for the tempest she felt inside were that one, he had kept such a gigantic secret to himself, and two…

Two, for running away from her. 

His decision to avoid her was what hurt the most. If she were truly being honest with herself, after moving in with him and seeing him nearly every day for the past two months… She couldn’t stand to be away from him.

For days all that had occupied her frantic mind was what she could have possibly done wrong—what heinous act had caused her partner to flee from their apartment like she was ill with the plague, leaving her to wallow in bed and cry like they'd broken off a romantic relationship, and it was all so stupid that Marinette found herself angry with more than just her partner. 

She was angry at the world, angry at the rules insisting their identities be kept a secret for over seven fucking years despite that Chat Noir—Adrien—was the one person she trusted with her entire life, and she...

She was angry with herself, too. 

How could she have allowed herself to react the way she did when she knew what type of home Adrien had been raised in? How on Earth could she justify yelling at someone who was only trying to do the right thing and tell her the truth…?

Marinette’s stomach turned as she nosed her face against the bare skin of his bicep. The sound of crickets chirping outside filled the room with something other than the impermeable silence that had begun to gnaw at her subconscious, which she was incredibly grateful for. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut tight, attempting to thwart the anxiety that swirled in her gut.

Despite her transgressions at her own behavior, she still could not get rid of the bitterness that soured her insides.

Chat Noir had run away. He'd run when he'd needed her—when she'd needed him—and it had made things so much worse because if he had just told her when he had first suspected her identity on their very first morning together, they could've figured it out right then and there and he wouldn't have felt the need to flee. 

Why did he feel the need to flee? And more importantly, why had he? Did he not know that he could tell her anything? That she would always be there for him and that she would stick by his side no matter what?

And that’s when it clicked, startling her enough to cause her to gasp aloud, her fingers tightening around the white sheets—

She had been behaving hypocritically. 

How could she insist that Adrien could trust her and talk to her when she had let her anger explode the exact moment he had finally found the courage to confide in her? She hadn’t even been there for the aftermath of their fight, she'd been so upset that she'd just... 

...She’d just left him there under a flickering streetlight, stranded alone and in pain—exactly like he had done to her.

Marinette whimpered.

She'd abandoned him. She had deserted him and left him standing in that damn park with his hand outstretched for her own, looking dejected and destroyed as if she’d punched a hole through his chest and torn his heart out herself. She hadn’t turned back despite how loud her mind had screeched for her to turn around and squeeze her partner in her arms, to tell him that everything was going to be okay, she wasn't mad at him, she loves—

No. She had gone straight home and locked herself in her room and cried. Cried from exhaustion, from relief, from the fact that her very best friend and favorite person in the whole world had just shattered her trust like a hammer to glass.

But… Maybe she’d been a bit dramatic. 

...Okay. She had been more than a bit dramatic, actually.

But she had been sleep deprived, damn it, and she had been so emotionally on edge that the smallest thing had set her off, and while she hated herself for the way she had reacted she still couldn't suppress the fact that she was hurt and she was allowed to feel hurt!

(Adrien didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to be the source of her anger. He didn’t deserve it at all, and she knew that more than anyone.)

Marinette knew he had trouble approaching people. Ever since they were teenagers, Adrien had always found it difficult to talk to people when it came to serious topics. He hadn’t exactly grown up in a very affectionate household where he could divulge his emotions to any parental figures, so she could understand why he had been so hesitant to approach her, but…

Why didn’t he say anything sooner?

He was afraid, her inner voice whispered, clawing at her mind like a feral animal. He was afraid you would react the exact way you did. You're betraying his trust by acting like this.

He might never confide in you again if you keep this up.

Marinette suppressed the whine that nearly rose in her throat. She turned to face the ceiling, exhausted but ultimately unable to sleep. Tears stung her eyes and her lip wobbled pathetically. She felt queasy from anxiety. Briefly she entertained the idea of getting up and taking a walk around to work off the nervous energy overtaking her body, but she refrained. That would only cause her to feel even more awake. Instead, she tossed and turned, pulling lightly at her loose hair as her thoughts mauled her brain. 

She felt horrible. Adrien deserved better.

During the entire two days she had avoided him, the sickly, disgusting feeling of regret and general grossness hadn’t left her alone yet still she’d forced herself away from him—afraid that if she saw his beautiful eyes clouded with sadness, she would leap into his arms and hold him and squeeze him and tell him that it was okay, it's alright, please don't cry, I'm sorry—

She wasn’t mad at him. Not anymore. She was just… sad.

Which was why she hadn't been able to find the courage to speak to him no matter how badly she desired to. No matter the aching hole chewing through her chest that only his name could fill.

Then Alya and Nino had to go and stick them in one room as if they weren’t already used to sleeping in the same bed. As if Marinette hadn’t wanted anything more than to hold her partner like he was all that mattered to her in the entire world—as if she wasn’t being too stubborn to realize that all she needed to do to remedy their relationship was talk to Adrien and apologize and then everything would be okay.

I tried, she thought. 

And she had. The moment they were alone by the fire she’d braved the anxiety burning her from the inside out and just talked to him, and it had felt so natural that the apology had slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. 

She wished she had said more. She… She needed to apologize properly, but… how could she when she was still upset?

(Even if she wasn’t sure who her frustration was directed at anymore—Adrien, or herself?)

Marinette sighed, begging her mind to let her sleep. She was so tired but with the flurry of thoughts swimming in her head she just couldn't calm down! She wanted to scream!

Turning back on her side, she growled under her breath, irate with her brain for keeping her awake. Why couldn't she just shut it off? Why couldn't—

Adrien's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against his frame. Marinette blushed.

"Relax," his voice rose in the midnight air, hoarse from sleep but still as soft and sweet as a midsummer morning. He rubbed slow, soothing circles into her back, ebbing away the stress she felt flooding her senses. "Sleep, Mari."

Marinette swallowed. Enveloped by his warmth, her cheeks felt hot. "Sorry."

Her partner yawned, resting his head on her shoulder. "S'okay," he whispered, the words slurred from exhaustion. 

She felt frozen. Her heart rammed behind her ribcage, desperate to leap out of her chest.

He smelled so clean. It felt so wonderful to just be held by him that she nearly cried from relief.

Shifting in his grasp, Marinette raised a hesitant hand to the back of his head. She combed her fingers through his hair, scratching his nape gently with her nails and watching with amusement as he curled closer against her side. She laid there in silence for a few moments, comforted by the faint sound of his breathing and the chorus of crickets singing outside. 

“Adrien,” she whispered after a moment, unsure if her partner was still awake.

He lifted his head, tired eyes squinting at her in curiosity. “Hm?”

Her voice wavered as she spoke. Guilt leaked into her words, her breath hitching. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry, kitty.”

And then Adrien smiled—a small, contented smile—before nosing his head back into the comfort of her neck. “It’s alright, Buginette. I forgive you.”

Marinette’s eyes flooded with tears. Sniffling, she quickly wiped them away, swallowing around the harsh lump in her throat that threatened to burst the dam on her emotional composure. Breathing in deeply, she gave her partner’s head another scratch as she squeezed him in a tight hug and positioned her nose into the thick blonde strands of his hair, her eyes feeling undeniably heavy. 

When Adrien returned the embrace, she finally, finally allowed the gentle tug of sleep to pull her into its hold.

Waking up to the blinding light of the sun shining through her eyelids, Marinette stirred, letting out a disgruntled little huff at the brightness in the room as she buried her face back into the warmth at her side. Her lips grazed something soft, the faint scents of peppermint and sage filling her nose. The arm around her waist squeezed a bit tighter, and as she nuzzled her head against a very familiar chest, her eyes immediately shot open in alarm.

One look upward confirmed her suspicions:

Adrien was cuddling her.

Not only was he cuddling her, but she was cuddling him back.

Oh dear. 

So she hadn't been dreaming last night. Adrien really had pulled her against him and snuggled her like she was indeed his favorite cuddle buddy. She hadn’t dreamt the way he’d looked at her under the pale moonlight, his blonde lashes fluttering against his skin and his lips pulled into a gorgeous smile.

Marinette’s cheeks flushed red as the reality of their situation smacked her hard in the subconscious. She and Adrien were quite literally playing an unintentional game of bedroom twister, his legs completely tangled in her own and his arms wrapped around her body like she was the only thing tethering him to the Earth. 

She wasn’t entirely innocent either. With her face pressed against Adrien’s chest and an arm slung over his body, it was almost as if they were used to this sort of thing—like it was a common everyday occurrence in their lives when Marinette knew for sure that this was only an occasional thing that rarely ever happened despite how much they both enjoyed being wrapped in each other’s embrace.

This, though—this was different. This was Adrien, not Chat Noir, and yes—yes, they were one in the same, but… without him wearing his signature black mask, this felt… strange. In a good way.

A very good way.

Marinette swallowed hard.

Oh, god, Adrien’s face was so close like this. She could feel the heat of his breath on her lips, his mouth mere inches away from her own, and if she were brave enough she could reach up, brush her fingers over his lips and lean in and kiss him, because that was everything she wanted and—

No. No, she couldn’t do that. They had only just barely made up.

(Didn’t mean she wouldn’t kiss him if he asked, though.)

Her heart skipped a beat as Adrien stirred. Freezing, Marinette watched as he blinked awake, his eyes so vivid and green that it damn near took her breath away. God, did he have to be so gorgeous? It wasn’t fair! It was so stupidly unfair!

Stupid pretty boy, she thought, her hand curling into a fist around the sheets. Stupid pretty boy that I am still mad at and definitely not at all in love with.

As he realized their current position, Adrien’s cheeks tinted pink, a small, sheepish grin appearing on his face as he began to untangle himself from her. “Sorry,” he said, scooting away. Marinette nearly whined as she mourned the loss of his body heat. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hi,” she interrupted, a twinge of embarrassment creeping up her spine. 

Adrien’s brow quirked in amusement. “Hi?”

She hated how easily he made her blush. “Um,” she said, fighting with her brain to find the right words to say without sounding incredibly awkward. “How, um… How did you sleep?”

Yawning, Adrien sat up and stretched, his back arching much like his feline counterpart. “Good. You?”

Unconsciously licking her lips, Marinette watched the muscles in his arms contract as he extended his limbs. The bottom of his black shirt rode up just slightly, the bare skin of his hips catching her attention in the early morning sunlight. Her fingers itched to reach out and run along the smooth expanse of his toned stomach, his chest, or maybe his—

She tore her eyes away from his body. No! Bad Marinette! 

Why was she so parched all of a sudden…? And, more importantly, why had she never felt like this after the previous times they’d shared a bed? It’s not like they hadn’t slept next to each other before, but this was different… too different.

Different in the way that she needed to flee before she said or did something stupid.

“I need to pee,” Marinette blurted, throwing the blankets over Adrien’s face in her haste to leap out of bed, practically slamming the door behind her once she'd made it to the safety of the bathroom. She panted, her heart hammering in her chest like it was thudding a million beats a minute, and as she gazed at herself in the mirror, she felt wild. 

Splashing some water on her face, she shook her head, patting her cheeks in an attempt to wake from whatever sort of dream she was having before she irreparably embarrassed herself beyond belief.

A shower. She needed a shower. 

A cold one.

Marinette took a deep breath, undressing from her night clothes and turning on the faucet. She stepped under the gentle spray, allowing the cool, crisp water to alleviate whatever tension she was still harboring in her body and watching it swirl down the drain.

Her hands trembled. She was still sort of upset, so why was she feeling so… so drawn to him?

Maybe she was still overtired. Yeah, that’s what it was. She was still sleep-deprived. A cup of coffee and another good night’s rest would be enough to quell whatever weirdness she was feeling.

A knock on the bathroom door startled her enough to yelp. Dropping her bottle of lavender-scented body wash on her foot, she yelped even louder.

Adrien’s voice came from the other side. “Marinette? Are you okay?”

Attempting to calm the frantic beating of her heart, she called back, “Yes!”

“Okay, um…” He paused. “Alya wants to know what you want for breakfast.”

You, her mind answered for her. She nearly choked on her own spit.

“I-I’m fine with anything!” she squealed, turning the water colder, colder, colder .

She was shivering by the time she exited the shower. But that was better than the alternative, she supposed.

Calm down, she told herself, calm down, calm down—

"Marinette?" Tikki's voice peeped from her perch on the towel rack. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she answered a bit too quickly. "I just, um- need to get dressed."

She hadn't known Adrien was still in the room by the time she exited the bathroom. Steam clouding out from the open door, Marinette froze mid-step as her gaze snapped to her partner—her very attractive partner who was in the middle of changing out of his pajamas and currently shirtless—

She could physically hear the record-scratch in her head as his eyes landed her naked body.

(Well, semi-naked. She was still wearing a towel and, uh, nothing was out in the open, but—)

Adrien smacked a hand over his eyes, his face flushing a deep crimson. "I am so sorry," he choked, turning his body away from her despite that his vision was obscured by his palm. "I didn't realize you were done—"

"It's fine," Marinette squeaked, clutching the pink towel closer to her body. Were her legs shaking? Her legs felt like they were shaking. "I just, um—" Shit, where was her voice, where had it gone, help- "just need to undress. I mean-! Get dressed! I need to put clothes on so I am not naked!"

Adrien's voice sounded very, very dry. "Yep. Good plan. Awesome plan."

He wasn't moving. 

"Adrien," Marinette wheezed.

"Oh!" He kept his hand pressed to his face as he moved. "Right. Sorry. I'm going. I uh, need to shower too, so— "

He walked into the wall.

She would have laughed if she wasn't so mortified. 

Adorable idiot.

"I'm okay," he said. He made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

When she heard the stream of water resume, Marinette finally released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

What.

The.

Hell.

Tikki's laughter floated up to her ears. Turning to face her kwami as she ruffled her hair dry with a towel, Marinette shot her a frown, raising her eyebrow in question. "What?"

"Marinette," Tikki giggled, hiding her mouth behind her tiny paws. "You're almost as red as me!"

That only caused her cheeks to flush further. "Shush," Marinette said, slipping into her undergarments. "I thought he had left the bedroom already."

"You two are so funny!"

Marinette stuck out her tongue, stepping into one of her favorite casual summer dresses, which was sleeveless and white with a skirt that reached just above her knees. Pulling her hair into a bun, she studied herself in the mirror before she took a moment to calm her racing heart and exited the bedroom.  

She could hear Alya and Nino's voices from downstairs. Rays of sunlight poured in through the windows, bathing the interior of the cabin in warmth. The scent of something delicious found its way into Marinette's nose, and as she breathed in, her stomach rumbled. 

"What'cha make?" she asked once she was in the kitchen. 

As Nino gave her a wave, Alya grinned at her from the dining table with a mug of coffee in hand. "Well, good morning, sleepyhead!" she said. "You look well rested."

Smiling, Marinette took in the sight of toasted croissants slathered with jam, the buttery, flaky scent like heaven to her growling stomach. A second pot of coffee was brewing to the side, and on the table was an array of fresh fruit. 

"I think that's the best I've slept in days," Marinette said as she sat in one of the chairs. Grabbing a croissant and some fruit, she bit into her food gratefully. "Thanks for making breakfast."

Alya sipped at her coffee, a smirk on her lips. "Hmm. Wonder why you slept so well. It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that you and Adrien were sharing a bed, could it?"

Blushing, Marinette narrowed her eyes at her friend. "You're evil, you know."

"Eh." Alya shrugged. "I've been called worse."

Marinette snorted. "I'm sure."

Just as she was nearly done with her meal, a figure at the top of the stairs caught her attention. She watched as Adrien made his way down the steps and into the kitchen, looking far more attractive than he had any business being so early in the morning. His still-damp hair wasn't styled, messy in a way that was familiar to his secret identity, and he was dressed in a casual black overshirt with its buttons undone, revealing a white V-neck underneath. With the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and blue jeans, Marinette had to bite back the squeal she wanted to emit at just how similar he looked to a certain Parisian superhero. 

As he rounded the corner of the stairs, practically skipping into the kitchen, he flashed her such a bright smile that it nearly had her melting from head to toe.

She had to look away before she blushed so red that she morphed into one of the raspberries on her plate. The image of his shirtless torso was still fresh in her brain.

"Well, look who it is," Nino said. "Jeez, you look happy."

Adrien stood at the table, his grin stretching from cheek to cheek. "I guess I am pretty happy."

Marinette didn't miss the smirk Nino and Alya shot in each other's direction. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Why’s that?” Alya asked.

Shrugging, Adrien poured himself a mug of coffee, quickly glancing in Marinette’s direction. “No reason.”

She smiled. 

“You want some coffee, Mari?” Adrien asked, and her smile only widened as he turned his beautiful face in her direction.

“Sure,” she said. “You know how I like it.”

He laughed. “Yeah. Sickly sweet, gotcha.”

With his back to her, she placed her chin in her palm, watching as he added just the right amount of cream and sugar to her cup. She did like her coffee extra sweet, but nothing was as sugary as the way Adrien smiled at her as he placed the steaming mug into her hands, their fingers brushing just slightly before he chose the seat right next to her. His thigh touched hers as he sat down.

“So…” Alya began. “Are you two still fighting?”

Marinette met Adrien’s eyes, her lips tightening.

…Were they?

Well, things were certainly a little awkward, and they still needed to have a proper conversation, but they weren’t necessarily fighting…

When neither of them responded, Alya sighed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Sipping her coffee, Marinette looked away. Adrien chewed his food in silence.

The kitchen grew quiet. She focused on finishing her breakfast instead of the nervousness that inched its way into her chest.

Flicking her gaze to the boy next to her, she felt her cheeks grow hot as she remembered just how awkward things had been a few minutes ago, and while she’d calmed down (for the most part) she couldn't get the image of Adrien undressing out of her head.

…The coffee wasn’t really doing a great job of curbing her thirst.

“Well…” Alya said, standing from her chair. She handed Nino her plates, who took them to the sink. “Nino and I are going to go out for a few hours. We’re supposed to be meeting with a realtor a little closer to the city. You guys want to come or are you gonna hang out here?”

Marinette looked at her partner. It would be fun to view houses with her friends, but… 

But she really wanted to spend some time alone with Adrien. 

To properly apologize.

Not for any other reason.

(Like kissing.)

“I think I’ll stay here,” she said.

“Yeah, me too,” Adrien said. “I think I need a day of doing absolutely nothing.”

Except for me, Marinette thought.

She choked on her coffee.

The moment she began coughing from the beverage inhaled into her lungs, Adrien turned his eyes on her, alarmed. He patted her back, giving her a couple gentle thumps between her shoulder blades to open up her airway, and as she regained her composure she shot him a self-conscious smile.

All of the eyes in the room were on her.

“Are you alright?” Nino asked. 

“Just peachy!” she wheezed, cheeks rosy.

“...Okay,” Alya said. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she motioned with her head for Nino to follow. “You kids be good. Mom and Dad are leaving.”

Marinette gave a playful roll of eyes. “Yes, maman.”

“Thanks for letting us borrow the car,” Nino said to Adrien on his way out.

He smiled at his friend. “No problem. And have fun!”

The door shut behind the pair, and then she and Adrien were alone.

…Awkward.

Unable to find the right words to say, Marinette tapped her fingers on the table, staring hard at the wooden surface. She could hear her heart thudding in her ears and as she chanced a quick glance at the boy at her side, she swallowed, her throat feeling dry. Their thighs were still pressed together. Marinette wasn’t sure if she wanted to scoot closer or far, far away.

Adrien was sitting as motionless as she was, his eyes trained directly in front of him. He looked worrisome—the corner of his mouth pulled down so slightly that if she didn’t know him so well, she would have assumed that his expression was neutral, but she could see the panic rising in his gaze and the nervous twitch of his hand, and that’s when she decided that enough was enough.

“You want to go for a walk?” she asked, startling him enough to cause him to jump in surprise.

“Yes,” he said immediately, looking so deep into her eyes that Marinette had to momentarily tear her own away, both too uncomfortable and too pleased to be in his focus.

Standing from the table, she flashed him a shy smile and, despite how her brain was screaming with anxiety, slipped her hand into his own. 

Adrien’s responding grin gave her all the confidence she needed to lead him outside.

They opted to take a stroll down one of the trails that winded through the property. Hand in hand, she and Adrien walked in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the pleasant sounds of nature and the sun streaming through the thick cover of leaves. Birds chirped in the air, and above them a plethora of clouds lazily drifted through the blue expanse of the sky. The crunch of gravel underneath their shoes was satisfying to her ears. 

Everything was so green. Each direction she looked, Marinette noticed an array of shades, and as she peered into Adrien’s eyes, she realized that green was her new favorite color.

"Can I ask you something?" She began, hating how shy her voice sounded. 

Adrien nodded. His attention was on her completely undivided. "Of course."

"Why were you afraid to tell me that you knew?"

He looked away, nervous. It took him a moment to come up with an answer. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to upset you. I was afraid that knowing your identity would ruin things between us.”

Marinette frowned. She felt hurt by his words. “Does knowing who I am ruin things for you?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. His features scrunched up as he fought to find the right words. “You’re amazing, Marinette. I only meant that I didn’t want to complicate things. We had such a good thing going that I was afraid if I told you, it would change how you see me and you wouldn’t like me anymore.” His expression wilted with sadness. “That you would want to move away from me.”

She placed her free hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Adrien.”

“I know. That’s just how my mind works. I’m sorry.”

“You know I’m not upset because of who you are, right?”

Adrien nodded. “I hope so.”

“I’m upset because you kept the truth from me and lied,” she clarified. “You know that doesn’t make me feel good.”

Squeezing her hand apologetically, he said, “I know, Buginette. I’m working on being better at approaching my friends, but that’s no excuse for lying to you and treating you the way I did. I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll do better.”

“I appreciate that,” she said, shooting a kind smile in his direction. “It’s alright. I don’t think I’m mad anymore. Honestly… I don’t think I was ever as mad as I thought I was—as mad at you as I wanted to be.”

He looked at her, surprise written on his features. “Really? But you seemed so angry.”

“I think…” she paused, her teeth nibbling on her lower lip as she contemplated her response. “I was just really hurt, Adrien. You’d been avoiding me as both Chat Noir and Adrien, and it made me so sad. I thought I had done something terrible to upset you. I thought…” She faltered. “I thought you didn’t want to live with me anymore.”

“No.” He shook his head, clutching her fingers with his own. “I love living with you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Mari. I was the one being an idiot.”

“I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me,” she said, gazing up at him. She nearly had to crane her neck from just how tall he was. “We’re partners, Adrien. You have to talk to me when something is wrong, okay? Even if it's scary.”

“Okay. I promise.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” he said, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. “I promise.”

“I promise, too,” she said. “I promise to handle things better in the future. And maybe next time we need to have a big conversation like that, we should do it after a full night’s sleep.”

Adrien laughed. “Yeah. That wasn’t my proudest moment. I really thought you were trying to tell me that you knew.” His brows furrowed as he regarded her with a confused look. “What were you trying to tell me, if it wasn’t that?”

Her face flushed at the memory of the question she’d drunkenly asked him at the restaurant nearly two weeks ago, desperately wishing that she could remember what he had said in response. She wasn’t sure if she should even mention it, but they had just promised to be honest with each other…

“It’s embarrassing,” she said, face hot. “I don’t even know if I want to bring it up.”

“Considering this morning, I think we’re well past embarrassment at this point. You don’t need to worry, Marinette. I’m sure it’s not bad.”

She looked away. Despite his reassurance, the uneasiness crawled up her spine like a nasty bug. “I guess.”

As if he could sense her discomfort, Adrien smiled softly, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I don’t want to pressure you if it’s something you’re not ready to share.”

Marinette felt her heart flutter in her chest, her body filling with pure adoration for him. She pressed herself against his side. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You can tell me whenever you’re ready.”

The ambience of nature filled the air around them. A fish jumped in the lake, and above them, a swallow warbled. They walked at their leisure, unbothered by the lull in conversation, and as Marinette gazed up at her partner—her Chat Noir—she felt an overwhelming sense of joy.

“I’m glad it’s you, you know,” she said, her voice sounding louder than she had intended in the quiet of the forest.

Adrien perked up beside her. “You are?”

“Of course,” Marinette replied.

He gazed down at her so lovingly that affection soaring through her chest from just his attention alone. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

She felt her smile growing so wide that it nearly split her cheeks.

Wordlessly, she stepped closer to him, enjoying the way he grasped her hand in his own as if their fingers were an exact fit—as if they were made to slant together, perfectly encompassed by each other's hold. 

When Alya would talk about what it was like to be in love, Marinette never understood what she’d meant when she told her that there would be a day where she would just know she’d found her other half, as if it would dawn on her suddenly that the person she had feelings for was “the one.” 

Marinette had laughed it off. After all, soulmates were just a myth, weren’t they? There wasn’t a possibility that one day she would experience a connection so powerful that it would envelop her heart, embedding itself in her life like a ring on her finger as a promise from her true love that they would be by her side forever, and well—

Well… As Adrien’s thumb rubbed slow, soothing circles against her knuckles, Marinette thought that maybe—just maybe—soulmates weren’t that unbelievable of a concept after all.

It had been chance that they were both selected to be the bearers of the Miraculous. Chance led them to being in the same classroom when Adrien was fresh to public school, to them becoming unlikely friends; it led them to decide to live together, to brave the impossibilities and take a chance on each other , and as Marinette stared deep into her partner’s eyes, she knew—

She knew she was his, completely and undeniably.

Kiss him, her thoughts screamed.

No, she fought back, knowing that it wasn’t the time.

“I’m really sorry for how I’ve been acting toward you,” she said. “I’ve been mean.”

Adrien frowned. “Marinette, you don’t need to apologize. I understand—”

“Let me finish,” she said, giving him a small nudge with their connected hands. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you. It wasn’t right and you deserved better than me walking away from you when I needed to stay and help you figure things out. I just...” She sighed, looking away as the guilt began to seep back under her skin. “I think I was so shocked at the turn the conversation had taken that I overreacted, and then I got so embarrassed and upset with myself for acting that way that I…”

“...Avoided me?” Adrien finished.

Marinette looked up at him apologetically. “Yeah.”

Bumping her lightly with his hip, Adrien shot her a lovely smile, and Marinette had to compose herself before she burst into flames from the sight alone. The sun shone down on his face like wisps of golden honey, illuminating his glossy hair and emerald green eyes. “It’s okay, Mari,” he said, so saccharine sweet that she wanted to pull his cheeks down to her level and smother his lips with her own. “I’m sorry, too. I was being immature.”

Marinette chuckled. “Maybe a little.”

He offered a playful snort. “Yeah, yeah. I mean it, though. I let my anxiety get the best of me and I avoided you and ran away, and that wasn’t cool. I should’ve handled it with more grace.”

“Yeah, maybe," Marinette said, leaning against his side as they walked. “But what does Chat Noir know about grace?”

“Plenty, thank you,” he quipped. “I’ll have you know I’m the most graceful cat in all of France.”

“I think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit,” she laughed, patting his shoulder. “I’ve seen you trip over your own tail too many times.”

“You have no proof.”

“My yo-yo begs to differ.”

And then he laughed—a beautiful sound that filled Marinette’s body with pure unadulterated love as he threw his head back and grinned, his teeth sparkling white and lips perfect beyond belief. A breeze drifted through the trees; Marinette sighed at the way it tousled his hair and caused it to dance in the balmy summer air. He was so breathtakingly gorgeous that just wasn’t fair.

“Stop that,” she said. 

Adrien raised an eyebrow in question. “Stop what?”

“Being so pretty,” she replied. “I can’t take it.”

He laughed again, and it was so wonderful to hear that she felt fuzzy inside. His cheeks tinted with the faintest hint of a blush. “I’m afraid I can’t help it, my Lady. It comes with the Chat Noir charm.”

“If you say so, kitty.”

It felt so natural to talk and joke with him again that Marinette wondered how they’d ever spent any time apart. They had such a deep connection, closer than anything she had ever felt in her entire life—so why had they both been so stupid and avoided each other when things would’ve easily worked themselves out?

She and Chat Noir were a team. No matter the problem, they always solved it together.

Together, she mused, a smile on her face. I like the sound of that.

"Was Tikki mad?" Adrien asked. "That we broke the rules."

Marinette hummed. "She wasn't happy when I told her," she said. "But she doesn't seem upset. She still thinks we're putting ourselves in danger. If we accidentally said each other's names while fighting an akuma or something, Papillon would—"

"Would what?" Adrien asked, a slight lilt of amusement in his voice. "Hear a name as common as 'Adrien' and automatically know which Adrien is under the mask out of the thousands of Adriens in Paris?"

She snickered. "Good point. But we should still be careful."

"I'm always careful with you, my Lady."

"Liar," she said, grinning. Adrien chuckled humorously.

The path led them around the other side of the lake. The sun was rising higher in the sky, warming the temperature, and as they strolled down the path, the earth beneath them faded from gravel into smooth, pale sand. The air was slightly cooler down by the water, and as Adrien stopped mid-step, Marinette leaned forward in question.

"What—"

“Look,” he said, pointing to the top of a large oak that craned over the lake's edge. It was jutting out from a small overhang, the water's surface about a half-meter drop from the rocky face of the ledge. “There’s a rope swing.”

Marinette’s expression fell flat as her eyes landed on the weathered old rope dangling from one of the oak’s branches. “Oh, no.”

“I’m doing it,” Adrien said, letting go of her hand and walking down to the sandy shore. “You can’t stop me!”

“Adrien,” she laughed. She nearly tripped over a stray root as she followed him off the path, silently mourning the loss of his touch. “You’re gonna walk back to the cabin soaking wet?”

He paused, plucking at his black overshirt and eyeing it warily. “You’re right. My dad would kill me if I ruined this shirt.”

“Come back,” she said. She didn’t want to admit how badly she missed holding his hand. 

Adrien turned his head to look back at her. With a smirk, he began to undress, slipping off both his shirts. His T-shirt caught on his head momentarily, ruffling his hair as he finally pulled it free. 

“Adrien!” She squawked as he began shucking off his pants. Her heart beat wildly, and her eyes told her to look away, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his near-naked form. “What are you doing?!”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed, Buginette. You’ve seen me in my boxers before.”

She sputtered, her cheeks a fiery red. “B-but that was before—”

“Before you knew Chat Noir’s identity?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Newsflash, Ladybug: it’s been Adrien Agreste’s underwear you’ve been seeing the whole time.”

Marinette’s face felt so hot that she felt like she would melt into a puddle of blushing goo. She glanced away for just a moment, but her attention was torn back to the boy in front of her as he tugged on the rope to test its stability. She did not—would not—look at his butt.

She wouldn’t do it. No matter how cute she knew it looked in those black Gabriel-brand boxer shorts, she would not look at Adrien’s butt!

...

She looked at his butt.

Yeah, she thought, grinning. That’s a good view.

“You think it’s safe?” Adrien called toward her.

Crossing her arms, Marinette shook her head. “If you get hurt and I have to explain to the Ladyblog why Chat Noir is out of commission, I’ll kill you.”

He stuck his tongue out in retaliation. Grabbing the rope and taking a few steps back, Adrien braced himself, pausing for a moment before he dashed off the ledge and flung himself into the lake, the once-still surface rippling from his dive. His collision with the water caused a few small waves to rush to the shore. As a few water droplets splashed onto Marinette’s face, she rolled her eyes, wiping the wetness from her cheeks.

She waited for her partner to surface, watching with her hands on her hips, ultimately unimpressed. 

And she waited.

And waited.

…He should’ve come up for air by now.

“Adrien?” she called, stepping toward the water. He didn’t answer. “Adrien!”

Damn it, Marinette thought, kicking off her shoes and preparing to leap into the lake after him. If he got hurt—

Adrien’s head breached the dark water, gasping for air. He wore a stupid grin as he swam toward her, his hair sticking to his forehead and wet droplets beading down his face. “Look,” he said, holding his hand in the air. In his palm was a smooth gray stone. “I found a cool rock.”

Marinette stomped her bare foot on the sand. “You idiot,” she hissed. “I thought you got hurt! I was about to jump in after you.”

Smirking, Adrien rested his arms on the small rock ledge he’d jumped off, gazing up at her with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. It made her sick.

(Not really. She’d never get tired of those eyes.)

“Aw, Marinette,” he cooed, placing his head in his palm. “Do you care about me or something?”

“Yes!” she shouted. 

“Gross,” he laughed.

She turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re gross.”

“Not as gross as you being in love with me.”

Marinette sucked in a breath through her teeth, whipping around to face him. “I am not."

Pushing his wet bangs away from his forehead, Adrien snickered. “I thought you didn’t like liars, Marinette.”

“That’s it,” she huffed, a wave of confidence surging through her as she began to pull her dress over her head. Once free from the confines of her clothing, she folded it neatly and placed it on a rock away from the sand, marching her way over to the ledge. “I’m coming in there and drowning you myself.”

She didn’t miss the way Adrien’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as she undressed. Truthfully, she felt a little embarrassed to be in her lacy pink undergarments in front of her partner, but she held eye contact as she grasped the rope hanging from the tree. Adrien gaped up at her, his pupils blown wide. He at least had the intelligence to swim away from the rock ledge to give her enough space to leap. 

“This better not break,” she grumbled. 

“It’s okay,” Adrien said, sounding slightly out of breath. She wasn’t sure if his cheeks were red from the cool temperature of the water or from the fact that she was half-naked in his presence. “If you fall, I’ll catch you.”

“And drown us both? I don’t think so.”

Adrien’s grin was all teeth. “You have so little faith in me?”

Marinette scowled down at him, hating how badly she wanted to kiss that stupid smirk off his face. Taking a few steps back, she braced herself for a second, mentally counting to three before she sprinted off the ledge. She swung in the air, and as she let go and collided with the water, Marinette was reminded of being at the mercy of her yo-yo, zipping over rooftops and flying over the city with her partner by her side.

Breaking for air, she gasped and shrieked, her body trembling from just how cold it was. 

“Adrien!” she cried. “You didn’t tell me it would be freezing!”

He held up his hands in a placating manner. “I didn’t think you were going to come in!”

Despite her shivers, Marinette’s shook with laughter. She hugged her arms around her body, rubbing her hands up and down her skin to try to recuperate the loss of her body heat. Adrien joined her in her laughter, and together, they filled the air with childish giggles, splashing each other.

They spent the better of the morning milling about in the lake. Marinette couldn’t count the times they’d both jumped from the rope swing, and by the time the sun reached its highest peak in the sky, Adrien had made himself a nice collection of rocks and shells he’d procured from the sandy bottom of the lake. 

It felt so lovely just to be with him that Marinette couldn’t stop smiling. Her heart felt light. For the first time in nearly two weeks, she was indescribably happy. 

Taking a break from swimming to sun herself on the rock ledge, Marinette squinted at the sky, placing a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun as she gazed at the clouds from behind the leaves of the oak tree. “What time do you think it is?”

Adrien shrugged, standing chest level in the water. Combing his fingers through his wet, tangled hair, he winced as they snagged on a knot. “Not sure. But I’m getting hungry.”

“Should we head back?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “Plagg and Tikki are probably wondering where we are.”

As she and Adrien made their way back to the shore to retrieve their clothes, Marinette could feel his eyes on her. The entire time she slipped her dress back over her body, she could feel the burning heat of his gaze, but she found that she didn’t mind—actually, she quite liked the attention. She felt proud of herself for being so bold as to undress in front of him considering that just a few hours ago she had nearly fainted from being caught in a towel in his presence.

(And yes, while he dressed, she allowed herself a few of her own glances as well. Adrien was attractive, after all.)

The walk back to the cabin was mostly silent save for the occasional whisper of leaves rustling in the breeze. On the deck of their vacation home, a wind chime sang, and as they opened the sliding glass door and ventured back inside, Marinette felt content. 

She could almost picture it now: a life of their own in a cozy house, sharing each moment of their day with matching rings on their joined hands. Her cheeks warmed at the thought.

Knowing that she couldn’t keep her affections contained for much longer, she smiled, her mind abuzz with the notion of confessing just how strongly she felt toward her friend; her partner; her Adrien. If she were brave enough, she’d tell him right then—just throw herself in his arms and pull his face down for a kiss, allowing herself to become completely lost in him as she had dreamed of doing for seven years and counting, but… she wasn’t brave enough.

Not yet.

Despite how natural it felt to slip her fingers between his own as they made lunch together, alone in a cabin perfectly fit for two, she resigned herself to enjoying the moment as it was, knowing that someday—someday soon—she would brave the anxiety pooling in her stomach and tell him just how much he meant to her.

Just maybe not today.

Chapter Text

The nature of their relationship had definitely changed. 

Fading from what had previously been a terse awkwardness, Marinette felt as if a fire had been kindled between Adrien and herself, burning bright and hot like lit cinders. Every brush of their fingers as they made lunch caused her to feel as if she’d been set aflame. It was nearly impossible to tear her eyes away from him for too long; each second she wasn't watching the methodical movement of his hands was like physical torture to her subconscious. Every time she turned her back to him, she could feel his eyes roaming her body, sending a pleasant tingle to travel down her spine and settle low in her stomach. 

It was embarrassingly thrilling. The grin that was plastered on her face only grew from his prolonged attention. Though no words were spoken between them, none were needed—Marinette knew that he too could sense the changed tone of their relationship floating through the air, binding them together like an unspoken promise tying them into one.

Whenever she braved a glance at his face, Adrien’s gaze would be lit ablaze with something so fierce that it would cause her heart to flutter thunderously in her chest and nearly make her giggle as if she were a goddamn love-struck teenager again. She would’ve cringed from her ridiculous behavior were it not for Adrien not acting the same way.

She would look at him—hesitantly, as if that alone were a difficult task—and then he would smile, a gorgeous, breathtaking smile that made her legs feel like jelly and her hands itch to reach out and comb her fingers through his hair. The affection blossoming between them was almost too much for them to bear—they’d stand there staring at each other like infatuated fools drunk on love, metaphorical hearts blooming over their heads.

The moment wouldn’t last long, though. They’d both look away too quickly, too shy to entertain the obvious attraction they were clearly feeling toward each other. Within the blink of an eye the nanosecond of mutual fondness would be over, fading away like a whisper in the wind and never to be mentioned again.

Marinette blushed, highly attuned Adrien’s movements behind her. He had been tasked with cutting vegetables for their meal while she worked on retrieving tableware from the cabinet. The clink of ceramic plates and the faint clack of his knife chopping produce were the only sounds that filtered through the stiff air. 

Feeling his eyes on her once more, Marinette turned her head, unable to refrain from smiling as his fiery gaze settled on her own. She felt stupidly giddy. It was shamefully exciting to be the object of his focus. The urge to forgo lunch and leap into his arms and kiss him senseless was almost too appealing, but she shook the thought away and flicked her eyes back to the food she was preparing, feeling her cheeks heat pleasantly from the thought.

She couldn't act on impulse. Part of her wasn't sure if he was actually feeling the heat between them or if her mind was making it all up. Besides… she was acting out of control. They hadn't even kissed yet, so why was she desperately wanting to—

Stop thinking about it, she mentally scolded herself, mortified at her inappropriate thoughts. You have zero experience with that type of thing. You don't even know if he wants you like that.

Quickly snapping her attention back to the table in front of her, Marinette stared hard at the empty plates in her grasp. She could hear the knife in Adrien’s hand sliding against the cutting board, slicing through a tomato with ease. Her fingers clenched around the tableware.

She chanced another glance at his face. 

He was looking at her again.

Swallowing, she tore her eyes away. 

Oh, man. The look in his eyes… she couldn’t get over it. It was making every bit of her insides feel like they were going to burst into flame. 

Adrien was looking at her as if she were much more appetizing than the meal he was helping her prepare, and that… that was a look she wanted to become completely, irreversibly lost in; she could drown in those eyes and be content to never, ever come back up for air.

Something devious swam in his expression, like a cat that had cornered a mouse. Surprisingly, Marinette found that she liked the mischievous glint that sparkled in his gaze. 

(In fact… “like” didn’t even begin to describe how she felt about it.)

The hunger in Adrien’s face made her realize that he was starved for a little more than just food. In fact, she felt a little peckish herself.

Oh my god, she thought, her confidence rising nearly as fast as her internal panic. Maybe he does want me like that.

“You know, Adrien,” she said, not having to look back to know that he was ogling her. “With a knife in your hands, I’d like to think that you’re paying a little more attention to the safety of your fingers rather than staring at my ass.” 

Adrien let out a startled yelp in response. “Fuck,” he hissed, and as she turned to see the source of his irritation, the corners of her lips pulled down as she realized he’d cut himself.

Oops.

Marinette rushed to his side, grasping his hand gingerly with her own. Her voice was laced with worry as she said, “You idiot, I was joking!”

“Sorry,” he said, sheepish. He winced as she turned his hand in her hold, surveying the damage done to his flesh. “I, um… I wasn’t looking at your butt.”

She rolled her eyes. Whether or not he was didn’t matter at the moment, no matter the twinge of disappointment that fluttered inside at his dismissal of her comment.

As she studied the cut on his finger, she was relieved to see that it looked a lot worse than it actually was, but the blood dribbling down his index finger and onto the wooden floor was still disconcerting. “Come on,” she said, pulling him to the sink, “you’re bleeding everywhere. Wait here.”

He obeyed, standing over the sink with his eyes wide.

She left him in the kitchen to retrieve some gauze and bandages from the cabin’s first aid kit located in their bathroom. Her fingers fumbled through the array of band-aids, medical strips and other types of wound care, searching for the proper equipment. Her mind was too preoccupied with memories of their morning at the lake to properly function and the inability to focus on finding adequate bandages for his injury made her feel frantic. 

(She just couldn't get the image of Adrien in nothing but his underwear out of her head! If she were alone, she would scream from the frustration of it all.)

"Where are they?" she growled under her breath. "Where are the stupid bandages?"

They were nestled under a bottle of antiseptic spray. Retrieving them from the kit, she hastily made her way back to the kitchen and—after tripping over the last step of the stairs—stood by Adrien's side at the sink, cupping his injured hand in her palms. 

He wasn't bleeding as much as she had initially thought. Thankful, Marinette let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, feeling relief wash over her body. 

Adrien shot her an embarrassed smile as she began to clean his cut. “Sorry.”

"You have to be more careful," she said. 

He didn't even flinch as she dressed his wound. "Eh, I've been hurt worse."

Frowning, she glanced up from his injury to look briefly in his eyes. She supposed that was true; he was quite reckless as Chat Noir and she had seen him in far worse shape than his current state, including a couple of near-death scares that both he and herself had narrowly avoided while battling vicious akuma.

Still… it didn't mean she wasn't concerned.

"Why do you make a habit of injuring yourself?" she found herself asking, wrapping his finger in a protective bandage. 

He shrugged. "It's not like I do it on purpose."

Regarding him with a flat look, she raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall you throwing your entire body at me about a week ago. Or did that bruise on your shoulder come from somewhere else?"

Adrien laughed nervously. "Okay," he said. "Maybe sometimes I do. But I wasn't in my right mind then."

"If you say so."

Silence rose between them. Marinette focused on finishing caring for his wound, sparing his hand with gentle touches and the ginger movement of her fingers. Once she was done, she stared at his bandages for a moment, her mind racing. 

"Why do you do that?" She asked, finding the courage to look him in the eye.

"Do what?"

"Jump into danger for me," she replied. Her voice grew soft. "Put yourself in harm's way to protect me."

Adrien faltered, his shoulders tensing just slightly. He was quiet for a long moment before he said, "I don't know."

Marinette wasn't convinced. "I think you do."

"It's just…" he paused, reaching up with his uninjured hand to rub at the nape of his neck. "I get scared when I see you in trouble. I can't stand the thought of you being hurt, and I care about you more than I care about myself, so—"

"Why?"

"Huh?"

She gazed up at him sadly. "Why do you care more about me than yourself?"

Shrugging, Adrien looked away. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you," he said, locking his fingers with her own. “You’re so important. Not only to me, but all of Paris. I need to make sure you’re safe. And I know you can take care of yourself and that you don’t need me protecting you all the time, but… I have to. If it’s between you and me getting hurt, I’d rather it be me, because seeing you in pain would hurt me more than being injured myself.”

Marinette shook her head, a sad smile spreading across her face. “And you don’t think about how it makes me feel to see you hurt? You’re important too.” She placed her hand on his cheek, slowly brushing her thumb over his skin. “To Paris. To me. Especially to me, Chat Noir. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t.” His eyes met hers, and the intensity in his expression nearly made her explode with emotion. He placed his hand over hers, which was still placed on his cheek, giving her knuckles a squeeze. "Marinette, you… you're everything to me, okay? I have to tell you that.”

She felt as if her heart had leaped out of her chest. "I am?" she asked, her voice faint as a bright ray of hope between to expand in her chest.

He smiled tenderly. “You’re my whole world. I love…” He paused, and if Marinette didn’t know him so well, she would've missed the anxious flash in his eyes. “I love being around you.” 

Her hands trembled. Blinking in surprise at his casual admission of her being his whole damn world, she took a step backward, feeling stupefied. “How can you say stuff like that so easily?” she asked. “How is it not the hardest thing in the world to admit that to me?”

Taking her hand in his grasp, Adrien’s smile grew as he brought it to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on her knuckles. “Because it’s the truth.”

“I…” She looked away, nervous. Her cheeks tinted pink. “You mean a lot to me, too.”

“Yeah?” he asked, grinning. He glanced her up and down, the mischievous sparkle returning to his eyes. “I can tell. You’ve kind of been staring at me all day.”

Marinette’s face flushed red. Oh, he was going to play that game, was he? Well, lucky for her partner, she had a few quips up her sleeve.

“Says the guy who couldn’t take his eyes off of me and ended up cutting himself because he was too distracted,” she said, unable to keep the corners of her lips from curling upward. 

He laughed, the faintest hint of a blush gracing his cheeks. “Yeah, well,” he said, shooting her a wink that made her feel as if she was turning into a puddle of goo on the floor. “I can't help myself. The most beautiful woman in the world was in my presence.”

“Idiot,” she said. Her heart was beginning to flutter excitedly, dancing in her chest along with the butterflies that floated up from her stomach.

"So rude," he said.

"Just speaking the truth."

Adrien mock gasped, placing a hand to his chest as he feigned offense. "You wound me, my Lady! What have I done to deserve this abuse?"

She stuck out her tongue. "Everything."

"Like what?"

The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Like being too hot for your own good."

Adrien's eyes widened, a surprised (but pleased) smile spreading across his stupidly attractive face. "Oh, really?" He leaned in slightly, tilting his head to the side. His voice grew quieter as he said, "Well, that makes two of us."

She felt her breath hitch from his words. This was starting to teeter out of their usual territory of friendly banter and into something much more personal. She wasn’t sure if it would be wise to continue, especially with how twitchy she’d been feeling around him lately, but the notion of some heavy flirting was a little too delicious to resist.

"Flatterer," she said. “Does Ladybug know that her partner is flirting with another girl?”

He grinned, and it was a troublesome sight. “Somehow, I don’t think she’d mind when it comes to you.”

“Oh, really?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And does she know you undressed in front of me?”

“Oh, she knows.” He placed a hand to his chin as his eyes roamed her up and down. “She’s undressed in front of me before, too.”

“Is that so?”

“You were driving me insane, you know,” he continued, stepping closer. Something ignited in his eyes; she could feel his breath on her face as he inched toward her. “It was very mean of you to be so enticing earlier. I didn’t expect you to—”

“Didn’t expect what?” she butt in, grinning as she nibbled on her bottom lip. “For me to do exactly what you did and strip like it was nothing?”

He snickered. Playing with her hair, his knuckles brushed her cheek. “I didn’t expect to watch you take your clothes off for me so soon.”

“So soon?” she echoed, her eyes widening a fraction as a small laugh rose from her throat. “You mean you expected it in the first place?”

Adrien faltered, looking embarrassed by his admission. Guilt briefly flashed in his eyes. “No! Sorry, I worded that wrong. I’ve never expected you to undress for me, Marinette, that wasn't what I meant. I mean, maybe in my dreams, but—”

“Your dreams!” she was giggling now, hiding her laughter behind her hands. “Are you implying that you have dreams about me undressing? Adrien, how scandalous.”

“No! I mean—” he stuttered, running a hand down his flushed face in frustration. “Maybe sometimes, but I know that’s inappropriate for me to say—”

“So you were living out a fantasy earlier when I took my dress off, huh?” she asked, knowing she was flustering him with the way she was talking but it was just too much fun to watch him squirm under her gaze. 

“Oh my god.” He hid his face behind his hands. “I can’t believe I admitted that. I’m so sorry—”

“Want to see me do it again?” she blurted boldly, surprising herself with her question. Her fingers curled against the countertops as she leaned against the marble, the smile on her face all too wide. She slowly rested her foot over the back of his calf.

Adrien froze. Peeking out from behind his hands, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “What?” he whispered, his voice barely audible even in the dead silence of the room.

She felt her stomach flip-flopping with nerves. Now was her chance to turn back—to pretend as if their relationship wasn’t staggering over a very precarious edge so that they could wade back into familiar waters. If she said what she wanted to say—what she needed to say… there’d be no coming back from it. 

The nervous coil in her stomach wrapped itself around her body. It warned her to back off, to be quiet, to go back to the level of banter they were normally comfortable with, but instead—

Instead, she said, “You heard me.”

She felt as if everything in the room had shifted. The atmosphere became hot, burning with the intensity of their shared gaze. Her knuckles turned white from how hard she gripped the countertop behind her.

Hesitantly—as if gauging her reaction—Adrien’s hand played with the hem of her skirt, his delicate fingers barely brushing the outside of her thigh—almost as if by accident. “Are you trying to kill me, Marinette?” he asked, voice husky as he smirked down at her. He leaned in closer, closer, and her breath seized in her throat as his face hovered mere centimeters from her own. “That’s not very nice, my Lady. Shame on you.”

She nearly moaned just from the sound of his voice. What was it about his playful teasing that had gotten her so worked up all of a sudden?

“Yeah, well,” she said, taking a moment to catch her breath. She tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, which had fallen out of its bun hours ago and now cascaded over her bare shoulders. “It’s only payback for how you were making me feel this morning.”

His pupils were blown wide. Placing a hand on the counter behind her, Adrien leaned in further, his nose brushing hers and sending shivers down her spine and all the way to a very particular area between her legs. 

He was giving her an out, she realized—leaving an opening in case she wanted to step away or flee from whatever direction their conversation was heading, but she stayed put. She wanted him more than anything now, so bad that she couldn’t even think about anything else but his voice, his hands, his body. The thought of the fingers that were busy playing with the the skirt of her dress moving to dip elsewhere was very, very enticing. There was no way she was running now. She needed him more than she needed air at this point, and if she didn’t get to taste his lips soon she’d suffocate and wither away into a pile of nothing.

In a quiet voice, he asked, “How was I making you feel?”

Marinette swallowed. She swallowed hard.

It was now or never. There was a choice to be made—a choice she could never come back from if she admitted how she truly felt and what she craved. If she acknowledged the feelings that were swimming in her chest (and other regions), their relationship would never be the same again, its dynamic permanently transformed into something much, much closer.

But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Reaching up, she placed her hand on his chin, brushing her thumb over his lips. Her heart felt as if it was pounding in her throat and her legs were trembling fiercely, but she didn’t feel scared—in fact, she felt thrilled. Elated, even.

Grinning smugly, Marinette said, “Like I couldn’t think about anything other than how bad I wanted your body against mine.”

“Really?” Adrien gasped, pressing his forehead against hers. He stared deep into her eyes, his breath coming in short, quiet pants as his burning gaze flicked from her eyes to her very kissable lips. “You’re serious? You're not joking right now? Please don’t tell me you’re joking, Marinette.”

She peered at his mouth, unconsciously running her tongue over her lips. They were so close and yet still they weren’t pressed against her own. It was a crime, really. They should remedy that. 

“Why don’t you kiss me and find out?” she asked, barely able to recognize her own voice from how gravelly it sounded, her tone thick with lust.

One of his thighs slotted between her legs. She had to brace herself on the counter with both arms so that she didn’t fall over when her muscles inevitably gave out and sent her tumbling to the floor. Adrien supported her with one hand placed on the small of her back, his touch so warm and inviting that she nearly told him to take her right then and there, but then—

Alya and Nino’s voices came from behind the cabin door, and seconds later the knob was turning.

Marinette sprung away from him, squeaking in surprise. Adrien did the same—he hurled himself backward, bumping into the dining table and sending a plate to slide off the edge and shatter on the wooden floor in the process. 

His face was so red. It would have been adorable if she herself weren’t the same color.

As the door swung open, she turned back to the sink, pretending to wash a nonexistent dish as Adrien picked up the pieces of shattered ceramic off the floor. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she felt as if she was going to throw up—whether it was from nervousness or her own embarrassment at nearly being caught fucking her friend, she wasn't sure.

“We’re back!” Alya called, walking into the kitchen with Nino at her side. Her expression flattened as she saw that her two friends were on opposite sides of the room with their backs turned toward each other. “Oh, no. Did you two fight again?”

Silence. Marinette glanced at Alya’s face with wide eyes, offering nothing but a helpless shrug in response.

Alya sighed, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the main room and flopped onto the couch. “Whatever. You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Marinette couldn’t help but smile. Turning her gaze to Adrien, their eyes met, and he returned her grin just as wide.

Her eyes trailed him as he resumed cutting the vegetables. Walking to his side, she slipped the knife out of his hands, shaking her head at him with a playful scowl on her face. “Uh-uh,” she whispered, pointing to his injured finger. “You are not losing any more fingers on my watch.”

He laughed, his cheeks still tinted red as he held up his hands in a shrug. He leaned in closely, his lips nearly grazing her ear as he murmured back, “Then stop being so distracting and I won’t have to worry about it.”

She rolled her eyes, grinning at him as she listened to Alya animatedly talk about the home she and Nino had toured. 

Marinette felt guilty for the fact that she wished her friends had stayed out of the cabin for a few more hours. She was happy for them, of course she was, but… they really couldn’t have come back at a worse time. Their interruption had completely ruined the moment.

The sexual tension that had painted the air was still there, but not nearly as strong as it had been seconds before. She wasn’t sure if she was grateful or disappointed that it had faded. They’d been so close to finally living out one of her best-kept secret fantasies that she now felt hollow inside from disappointment.

“Anyway,” Alya said, pulling Marinette out of her thoughts. “How’s your morning been? Did you two at least manage to relax?”

Glancing at the boy next to her, Marinette smiled. Finally their salad had been prepared, but regrettably she didn’t feel hungry for food anymore. All she could focus on was her desire for something (or someone ) else.

“Yes,” Marinette said, taking a seat next to him at the table. “It was nice.”

She scooted a bit closer to him, pressing her thigh against his own as they shared lunch. Subconsciously, she found herself leaning against him, sharing his body heat and humming pleasantly from how he squeezed her hand under the table. 

Their stomachs grew full, but both of them were still undeniably famished.

Adrien felt as if he were going crazy.

He had never thought it would be so hard to simply exist next to her. Marinette was right there, right next to him, and they had been so close to doing something he had only dreamed of while alone in his bedroom with the company of his hand, but—

But his best friends were unintentionally cock-blocking him. Literally.

Alya and Nino could not have come home at a worse possible time. He loved his friends, but internally Adrien felt annoyed. 

They’d been so close. So close. 

Damn it.

It took everything in his power not to pout. He wished his friends would have ventured out of the house all day, but that was his selfish side speaking. Why couldn’t they have stayed out a few more hours and come back later? 

(Much later. Late enough to give Marinette and himself time to explore the recent change to their relationship that they had only just barely dipped their toes in. Late enough to give them enough time to explore each other.)

“Dude,” Nino said, startling him as he patted him on the shoulder. “You look like someone stepped on a puppy in front of you. What’s wrong?”

Marinette giggled.

Adrien wanted to die.

“I’m fine,” he said, shooting his friend a wide smile. “No problems here!”

Looking unconvinced, Nino instead turned his attention to the plate of food sitting on the table. “Ooh, did you guys make lunch? What is that, a garden salad?”

Marinette nodded. “Yeah. Not without casualties, though,” she added, a smirk on her face as she glanced at Adrien. “We should talk to Adrien about proper knife safety.”

Gasping, he cradled his injured hand to his chest. “You dare make fun of a wounded man?”

“Please,” she said, giving his nose a gentle flick with her fingers. “That was your fault and you know it.”

“Hard to say,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling upward into his signature Chat Noir smirk. “You were the one making comments about—”

He froze, suddenly remembering that Alya and Nino were in the room and could very much hear and see everything they said to each other.

“—about… things,” he finished. Awkwardly, his gaze fell back to the salad in front of him. He picked at it lifelessly with his fork.

Truthfully, he didn’t find himself having much of an appetite for anything other than the woman at his side. He couldn’t think straight after what she’d told him—her words repeating over and over again in his head like a mantra—and he had to keep distracting himself from replaying the memories of her undressing in his head before he had to excuse himself to the bathroom to deal with a problem he didn’t feel like having to explain just yet.

Unless Marinette wanted to deal with it for him—

No. No. No, he told himself, forcing himself to think about Plagg’s stinky cheese instead of what his Lady would look like on her knees in front of him. Don’t think about that. Your friends are looking at you.

He ate his lunch in silence, the food doing nothing to fill the hunger growing inside him.

Marinette’s voice startled him enough to yelp. “Adrien?” she asked. “Did you hear me?”

“Huh- what?”

She gave a playful roll of her eyes. “I asked if you were done with that.” Pointing to his empty plate, Marinette regarded him with a curious look. 

All he could do was nod in return. Her fingers brushed his as she took their plates to the sink.

The rest of the day dragged on. Every second he caught himself looking at Marinette, he had to remind himself that the cabin was very much occupied by two other people, and he couldn’t just swipe her off her feet and profess his undying love for her and kiss her absolutely senseless no matter how badly he desired to. 

It was torture.

He went through the day distracted and dazed, his mind engaged elsewhere. The four of them spent the afternoon lazing about, playing board games and sunning themselves by the lake. They made dinner together, ate as a group and watched some TV, and when the sun started to go down, they sat by the fire, talking and laughing and having fun. Throughout it all Marinette was by his side, so close and yet still not close enough. Every now and then, when Alya and Nino were preoccupied, she’d take his hand and give it an affectionate squeeze.

They didn’t get another moment alone for the rest of the night, much to his chagrin—while he adored Alya and Nino as friends, sometimes they didn’t know how to give people personal space.

(Or maybe he was just really distracted by a pretty girl with soft black hair and gorgeous blue eyes whose lips he wanted to smother with his own, but that's besides the point.)

By the time his friends finally turned in for the night, it was nearing eleven P.M., leaving Marinette and himself alone by the fire. It was very similar to the night before, but this time the energy between them was charged with something much more intimate. Adrien’s hands twitched with the desire to grasp her fingers in his hold.

“I’m gonna go take a bath,” she said suddenly, startling him. It had been so quiet that the sudden sound of her voice had caused him to flinch. 

She made her way back into the house, looking back at him as she closed the sliding glass door behind her.

His eyes widened. 

(He wasn’t sure if that happened to be an invitation. Not wanting to assume, he stayed put, his mind screaming at the thought that maybe she’d meant something by that. )

Despite that he felt exhausted, Adrien felt too wired to sleep.

Warmed by the glowing embers that danced in the air, he sighed, staring deep into the orange flames that swayed in front of him. His eyelids pulled down heavily, but he refused to fall asleep—Marinette was still awake, and he wanted to talk to her, damn it. They hadn’t had a chance to talk since this afternoon, and he was going to go insane if they didn’t get the chance to have a proper conversation about… whatever was happening between them.

But he was so tired. It had been a long day. If he could close his eyes for just a moment, it would be okay…

…

Someone cleared their throat. Adrien looked up, noticing with some surprise that Marinette was standing in front of the sliding glass door, donned in a sleep shirt and little pink shorts, looking nervous.

He swallowed.

“Hi,” she said. She wrung her hands together, fidgeting with her fingers. It made him smile; she had been so confident earlier when she’d been flirting with him. Where was that confident girl now? “Were you falling asleep?

“Hey,” he replied. Rubbing at his eyes, he yawned, shaking his head to clear the weariness he felt dragging at his mind. “No, I’m okay. What’s up?”

She shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s been kind of a weird day, huh?”

He laughed, soft and quiet. Nodding, he said, “Yeah.”

“A good weird, though?” she asked. Looking at the ground, she played with her damp hair, twirling the wet strands around her fingers. From his position on the bench in front of the fire, Adrien could see that she looked tense—the hard set in her shoulders and her perfectly straight posture were tell-tale signs that his partner was feeling a little on edge. He felt bad—surely she knew that he wasn’t upset about what happened between them earlier?

“Yeah. A good weird.”

Awkward silence. 

When she didn't say anything, he smiled up at her, patting the spot next to him on the bench. “Come sit, Mari.”

She did as she was told, positioning herself at his side. Her back was ramrod straight, and her hair—which was growing long, he noted—flowed over her shoulders like a black waterfall.

He wanted to run his fingers through it.

“I want to apologize for earlier today,” she said, unable to look him in the eye. “That was…”

Different? A lot? Extremely attractive and exciting?

“...inappropriate,” she finished, looking uncomfortable.

Adrien frowned. Why was she sorry? They had both been participating in the heavy flirting, and it’s not like he was unwilling. Besides, if anything, he’d started it when he first took off his clothes by the lake.

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, reaching out for her hand. “I’m not upset with you, Marinette.”

“I know,” she hurried to say, leaning back against the seat. “But it kind of made things weird between us, didn’t it?”

“A good weird?”

She laughed then, and it was such a beautiful sight that Adrien couldn’t help the grin that began to spread across his face. “Yeah,” she said. “A good weird.”

“So why are you sorry?”

He could see the heat of her blush even in the low light of the fire. “Because, I…” she sighed. “I want to talk to you about… something… before we dive into anything like, um… like that. ”

“Like…” 

“Like that comment I made earlier about how you were making me feel—”

“Oh.” He chuckled softly, his cheeks flushing from the memory. “Oh, right.”

“That was out of line,” she said. “I don’t know why I said that.”

Grinning, Adrien placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Marinette, if you think I’m offended by the fact that you’re physically attracted to me, you’re very mistaken.”

She snorted, a small laugh bubbling up from her chest. “You’re embarrassing me. I'm trying to be serious here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Her head found its place on his shoulder. Calmed by her closeness, Adrien wrapped an arm around her side, pulling her flush against him. Her wet hair was cool as it cascaded over his back.

There was silence, save for Marinette shifting on the seat next to him as she idly played with his fingers. Her hands were so small compared to his—it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

The fire cracked in front of them. In the air above, fireflies danced around the embers like tiny glowing stars.

“Adrien,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I have to ask you something.”

He wasn’t aware he had closed his eyes. Opening them to look down at his partner, he smiled in encouragement. “Anything.”

She seemed nervous. He wished he could articulate just how much he cared for her.

“Chat Noir,” she began again, meeting his gaze as his heart skipped a beat in excitement at the use of his other name. Her eyes burned so blue in the blaze of the fire. “I need to know… about what happened earlier, was that just talk, or do you actually feel that way about me?”

“What way?” he asked, despite that he knew. He loved her, was that not obvious?

“You said…” she cradled his hand against her chest, squeezing it in her grasp. “You said that I’m everything to you. That I’m your whole world. Did you mean it?”

“Of course I did,” he said, scooting forward to place his hand on her chin. He tilted her head up, careful, gentle, looking deep into her eyes. “I meant every word.”

Something sparkled in her gaze, setting her eyes alight. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said. Swallowing around the nerves he felt rising in his chest, he stroked his thumb against her cheek, wishing, hoping she could see just how much he loved her reflected in his expression.  “And if I’m being honest, you… you mean even more to me than that. I wish I could put into words just how much I care about you, Marinette.”

(He could. He could put it into words. He could tell her right then, right now, that he loved her, that he’d love her until the very end of time, but—

—but maybe that would be coming on too strong. 

He refrained.)

A smile split her face, shy and sweet as it powdered her skin with pink. She turned his hand in her grasp, placing a kiss to his palm before cradling it against her cheek. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. I’m sorry things have been so weird between us lately. We were just fighting and now we’re either joking around or being close to—” Flushing deeper, she looked away, embarrassed. “Well… you know.”

He laughed, the sound causing her to smile in return. “Yeah, I know.”

They were quiet for a moment. The sound of crickets chirping filled the silence, combined with the faint sizzling of the fire. In the sky, a million stars shone brightly. The night air was cool against his skin, a soft breeze blowing through his hair and causing Marinette’s black tresses to sway over her shoulders, her eyes—so, so blue—ignited by the warm orange glow. The constellations in the air above them had nothing on the starscape of freckles that dusted her face. 

She was everything to him—that was obvious. He couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. The idea that even after their vacation, he could go home with her, live with her, spend his time with her, with Marinette, his Ladybug, his world—

Well… it was better than anything he could have ever imagined.

Adrien hoped she knew how wonderful she was. There wasn’t anything—or anyone, for that matter—that could even hope to compare to her beauty.

“I have to be honest with you,” she continued. The firelight reflected in her eyes like a brand of summer.  Her voice made his insides buzz happily from just how much he adored her. “Adrien, I… I really like you. A lot more than I can explain. It’s hard for me to articulate my feelings, but you know that… I think that’s why I got so upset when you avoided me.”

Frowning at the memory of their days spent apart, Adrien tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, his finger brushing her cheek as it slowly retreated back to his side of the bench. “Because you like me?”

She smiled, chuckling softly. “I think it’s more than ‘like’ at this point.”

He smirked, a playful lilt to his voice. “Because you love me?”

Her eyes widened then, her body freezing and posture straight. The pressure on his hand increased in her hold. 

Adrien gaped. He’d only been teasing! Did she actually really—

Did she—

She loves? She—

“Marinette,” he said, standing from the force of his surprise. “I was joking! Don’t tell me you really…”

She looked up at him, offering a small, self-conscious smile in response.

His heart felt as if it was going to leap out of his chest. Throat feeling tight, eyes feeling watery, Adrien whispered, “You- you actually love me? Really?”

Quietly, she nodded, the smile on her face growing wide.

He placed a palm to his head in disbelief. “You… you love me.” 

It wasn’t a question, but a statement—he had to repeat it to himself a few times before it began to settle in his thoughts, forming a bed in his mind and digging deep into his veins where he knew the words would stay forever.

“You love me,” he repeated.

Marinette spoke then, her voice so soft and sweet and her hands—oh, her hands—so gentle as she cupped his face and stroked her thumbs across his cheeks. “Adrien, I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Something inside him broke then, like a dam bursting with rushing water, overwhelming his senses and causing him to be unable to do anything but just breathe.

She loved him.

She loves me, he thought, attempting to calm the frantic racing of his giddy heart.

She loves me—

I love her.

“My Lady,” he breathed, wrapping her in a hug and lifting her petite body off the ground, spinning her in a circle so fast it nearly made him dizzy. She laughed in his arms, squeezing him in such a tight hold that he couldn’t breathe, but it was okay, it was okay because it was her, his Lady, his Marinette, his partner—

—his girlfriend?

That was the question that remained, he supposed.

“Adrien,” she laughed once he’d set her down, carding her fingers through his hair. She was so short compared to him; he had to lean down just so she could reach the top of his head. “My kitty.”

He leaned in to her touch, nuzzling his face against the top of her head. “Yeah,” he said, breathless. “Your kitty.”

With her head against his chest, Marinette pressed herself against him, her body a perfect fit in his arms. And she was—so small, yet so wonderful, slotting herself against his form like a puzzle piece made just to connect with him. He’d always known that her hugs were the best hugs he could ever receive from anyone, and now he knew why—

He belonged to her. He’d known that since she had first crashed into him the morning they received their Miraculous, since the moment her fingers had brushed his own when he’d handed her his umbrella, and now…

Now she was here, in his arms, loving him.

Adrien never wanted this moment to end.

He loved her. He loved her so much that he had spent seven painful years holding his heart out in his hands, hoping—praying—that one day she’d keep it safe next to her own.

In a million years he never would have thought that it would ever be a possibility that she would feel the same, and yet…

“Can I ask you a question?” she said, her voice quiet in the midnight air.

“Of course,” he replied, placing his lips against the fringe of her hair. “Anything, Marinette.”

She glanced up at him through her lashes. “Do you remember… when we were sitting together at dinner at the restaurant… and I was drunk?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“I asked you a question then. Do you remember it?”

Grinning, Adrien let out a small, happy laugh. He remembered. Of course he did—how could he ever forget?

Still, he was feeling sly. “You might need to remind me.”

She rolled her eyes, a wide smile plastered on her beautiful face. “I said, if I asked you to kiss me… would you?”

“That depends. Are you asking me?”

“That also depends,” she said, pressing her finger to his nose. “Would you say yes?”

He smiled then, unbelievably happy. “Marinette… For the past seven years, I’ve wanted nothing more than to kiss you. Do you know how hard it’s been to not kiss you? Every second of my life I want to pick you up and—”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence. His words were lost, muffled by the press of Marinette’s lips against his own. She wrapped her arms around his neck, nearly stumbling from how she’d practically lunged at him, but Adrien caught her; he held onto her like his life depended on it, moving his mouth in tandem with her own as he kissed her, held her, loved her, cherished her.  

For years he had imagined what it would be like to kiss her—what it would feel like to have her lips slide against his, how she would taste, what noises would she make if he nibbled at her skin—

He didn’t have to wonder anymore.

She was so unbelievably soft. Instantly he felt himself slipping into a pool of her, so deep that he knew he would drown, but that’s okay because he wanted to —he wanted to be completely lost in her, enveloped in her scent and her kisses and her love to the point where he couldn’t think.

She tugged gently at his hair. He repressed the pleased little noise that rose in his throat. 

He wasn’t sure when the kiss had gone from innocent to irreversibly needy. Marinette’s lips branded him with her love, pouring her every thought, every feeling and emotion into his very soul, and he couldn’t fucking breathe because how does a person breathe when someone so wonderful, so beautiful, so amazing was kissing them like they wanted nothing more in life than to devour them by their lips?

They parted with a gasp for air, chests heaving and smiles wide. Adrien rubbed his hand against her back, his cheeks pinching from the force of his smile as he pressed his forehead against her own, staring deep into her blue, blue eyes and wanting nothing but to be close to her—to hold her until the very end of time.

“I love you, Marinette,” he said, because he hadn’t yet. “I love you more than anything else in the whole world. I love you so much that I’ve been going insane not being able to tell you that.”

She smiled up at him, looking so thoroughly kissed and breathtakingly adorable that his heart almost burst from the sight alone. Twirling a stray lock of his hair around her finger, she said, “You could tell me again.”

He laughed. It felt so wonderful, so freeing. “Or I could kiss you again.”

Humming, she stood on her toes, the brush of her lips against his eliciting an excited spark to rise up in his chest. “That’s good, too.”

He wasn’t sure when they’d made it back to their bedroom. Every few steps of the stairs, they stopped to kiss, to whisper sweet nothings into each other's mouths, pausing against the walls to kiss and taste their partner’s skin. The sounds Marinette made when he sucked her neck was like heaven to his ears, and as she gently nipped his chin, he sighed, so completely gone for her that he could barely even find the strength to walk back to their room.

(And yes, even as she was pressing kisses to his collarbone as he leaned against their closed door, Adrien made sure to lock it behind him.)

His shirt was the first item of clothing to go. As Marinette ran her hands over his chest, he panted, leaning down to pepper hot kisses along the junction of her neck. She whimpered; he swallowed up the sounds with his mouth.

It didn’t take long for the rest of their clothes to go flying. Adrien marveled at the sight of her, trailing kisses from her face to her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone, lower.

She was so beautiful beneath him, her back nestled comfortably against the bed as she gazed up at him with nothing but pure affection in her eyes. When her arms connected around his torso, bringing him closer, closer, closer, he groaned in her ear as she drank in every noise that slipped from his mouth.

As his lips wandered her body, he admired her bare skin, his eyes roaming the constellation of freckles that dotted her face, her collar, her breasts. She was mesmerizing in the way that only she could be—every inch of her body was perfect, from her pale, smooth skin, to her petite breasts, the toned expanse of her stomach, her muscular legs—absolutely breathtaking from head to toe. 

He wanted to worship her the way she deserved to be.

“Adrien, wait,” she said, causing him to pause just before his head dove between her legs.

He lifted his attention from the kisses he’d been lavishing on her thighs, looking her in the eye. “Yeah? You okay, Mari?”

She nodded, though there was a hint of nervousness in her gaze. “I… I’ve never done this before.”

Adrien placed a gentle peck on her inner thigh, savoring the way her skin tasted. “It’s okay,” he said, moving closer to her face, his lips pressing against her forehead, her cheeks, her chin. “I haven’t either.”

The relieved smile that appeared on her face was all he needed to continue.

They spent the remainder of the evening tangled in each other’s bodies, exploring with their hands, their mouths, and soaking up every quiet moan and gasp, completely enamored by the person at their side. Neither of them lasted very long once they finally connected—Adrien knew that would be the case—but he didn’t care. He was blessed just to simply be next to her, to hold her and love her like he knew she deserved.

As he lay next to her afterward, their bodies bathing in moonlight, he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, unable to think about anything other than that he knew—he knew he was completely, absolutely, one-thousand percent in love with her.

“I love you,” he whispered as she began to drift off to sleep, combing her bangs away from her forehead. “I mean it. You’re everything, Marinette.”

She smiled, and it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen in his life. Brushing her knuckles along his cheek, she sighed, her lips grazing his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

And those were the only four words he’d ever need to hear.

Chapter Text

Marinette could not remember the last time she had felt so well-rested.

Waking with a familiar weight on her chest, she blinked open her eyes, her vision bleary from the sunlight that streamed in through the bedroom windows. Her mind felt foggy—disoriented from the first full night’s rest she’d received in over a week.

She didn’t have to look down to know that Adrien was nestled against her body. She could feel his arms wrapped around her—could recognize the warmth of his breath as it fanned across her neck, and the sensation of his hair skimming her skin was familiar in the way that only he could be; her Chat Noir, her Adrien—the only boy she’d ever dream of having in her bed and the only boy who had woven his way into her heart.

Smiling affectionately, she absentmindedly ran her fingers over the back of her partner’s head, the love she felt for him coursing through her body as he stirred and nuzzled his face against her shoulder. His nose brushed her neck, causing a quiet giggle to rise in her throat—she was so ticklish she just couldn't help it, and he was so damn cute that the urge to smile was simply too great to resist.

As her hands played with his tangled locks, she admired the way his light-colored eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks while he slept. His hair was an absolute mess—which was her fault, she realized, recalling the way her fingers had clutched at the strands with each moan he had pulled from her lips—but she found she liked it that way. It was undeniably attractive, and besides… she had begun to harbor a soft spot for seeing him with his hair unstyled. Something about Adrien looking akin to his superhero counterpart made her heart dance wildly in her chest.

She placed a kiss on his forehead, pausing with her lips pressed against his fringe as she drank in the sight of him. Beautiful was the only word that could accurately describe his features, so warm and golden in the late morning sun as rays of gilded daylight painted him in radiance. As her eyes roamed his sleeping form, Marinette felt incredibly lucky that out of all the people in the world, he had chosen her.

Her. He’d chosen her. 

(She’d chosen him.

Though it wasn’t much of a choice, and more of a want—a need.)

She knew her Ladybug luck was one of a kind, but this was on a whole other level of luck entirely. 

(But then again, he had told her that she was his world, so it really was no question that he had wanted her more than anyone else.)

Running her hands from his head to his back, Marinette smoothed her palms over his tan skin, feeling a smidge of guilt rise up in her as she probed the faint thin scratches that decorated his shoulders and traveled down his spine. 

Damn. Did she do that?

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Eyes widening, she looked away.

Wow, she… she did that. She remembered how it happened—of course she did—but it was still… surprising.

Truthfully, she felt a little bad that she had been the cause of those angry red lines. But there was another part of her—a possessive side of her that had only recently surfaced for the first time last night—that loved the fact that she’d marked him with proof of their tryst. 

(But maybe she’d keep that bit of information to herself.

For now.)

Adrien leaned into her touch, letting out a sigh as her hands coasted down his back. He hummed pleasantly when she gave his muscles a light rub with her fingers, careful not to poke him with her nails since he’d clearly gotten enough of that last night. Even in his state of drowsiness, he smiled. 

He was still half asleep. She could tell by the way breathed, slow and content like a cat dozing in a patch of sun. 

It was almost painful to pry herself away from his hold. With his arms wrapped around her middle and his head perched on her chest, it felt wrong to jostle him, but… she needed to get up and stretch her legs. Her body was beginning to grow stiff from the weight of her partner dozing on top of her. Not that she minded—but she was getting a little tired of the taste of morning breath lingering on her tongue.

As she began to unravel her legs from his, slowly inching her body away, a small, quiet whine slipped from Adrien’s mouth at the loss of her warmth. Marinette smiled; he was so stupidly adorable that it was incredibly difficult not to crawl back into his embrace and allow him to hold her forever—until the end of time if he so pleased.

“Sorry,” she whispered, leaning down to press her lips against his as he started to wake. “I need the bathroom.”

Adrien sighed, reaching out for her hand as she slipped out from under the blankets and stood at the side of the bed. 

“No,” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep. “Come back.”

She laughed, looking down at him with a smile. He was holding onto her hand as if she’d never return, the silly cat. Didn’t he know she’d be by his side forever?

“Let me go, sleepy kitty,” she said, having no need to mask the fondness in her tone.

He hummed, wrapping his arms around her hips and pulling her body against his face. She squeaked as he placed his lips on the bare freckled skin of her behind, kissing her right cheek. “Nah," he said. "Get this cute butt back here.”

“Adrien!” she squealed, giggling as he dragged her back into the bed and began trailing kisses along her back. A pleasurable shiver traveled up her spine. “I have to pee, you idiot!”

He ignored her, grinning mischievously. Squeezing her around her waist, he drew her closer until she was flush against his front. “Can’t hear you. Sorry. I’m sleeping.”

“Oh my god,” she tutted, unable to repress the smile on her face. “You’re too needy. Haven’t you touched me enough?”

“I’ll never get enough,” he said, sticking his tongue out in a very mature fashion as he peered at her over her shoulder.

“Well, I want to take a shower.”

“Can I join?”

She rolled her eyes. “You can if you let me go.”

“Mm. Don’t like that deal.”

“You can’t hold me all day, Adrien.”

He smirked. “Debatable.”

She turned her body to face him, poking his nose. The sheets rustled from her movement. “Are you going to be like this all the time now?”

“Like what?” he asked as he began running his fingers through her black tresses, smoothing out the knots.

The feeling of his hands combing through her hair was something she’d never grow tired of. It was difficult to ignore the desire to close her eyes and slip into the comfort of his touch. “Insatiable.”

“Maybe,” he said. “As if you’re any better. I wasn’t the one who decided that we needed another round right when the sun rose this morning.”

“You seemed pretty happy about it, though,” she laughed softly. “Besides, that because something else had risen along with the sun and was poking me in the ass.”

He grinned, not at all ashamed. Placing his head in his palm, he said, “What can I say? You’re irresistible.”

Scoffing playfully, she sat up, grabbing a pillow and snickering at the faint twhap it made as she knocked it against his face. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Not as ridiculous as how much you love me,” he quipped, ripping the pillow from her grasp and batting her back. “That’s so cute, Marinette. I can’t believe you have a crush on me!”

“I wish I didn't.”

He laughed, his grin one of pure delight. “Aw, babe, you don’t mean that.”

She smothered the pillow over his face, ignoring the way her heart skipped at the pet name that was certainly new to their shared vocabulary. “Yes I do.”

Adrien pushed her hands away from him, the sound of his laughter filling the room. It was adorable in the way that only Chat Noir could be, looking like such a well-loved mess that she couldn’t resist leaning down to pepper his face with sweet, chaste kisses, the affection she held for him soaring through her chest and making her feel inexplicably happy inside. 

His hands found their way to her shoulders, snaking around her body in a tight hold as he pressed his lips against hers—which was a difficult task considering how wide they were both smiling, but Marinette didn’t care. It felt so nice to mold her mouth against his that she couldn’t bear to pull away. As his fingers wove their way through her hair, she sighed, knowing that she would never, ever get tired of kissing him. How could a person grow tired of something that felt as natural as breathing?

“Can I go now?” she asked once they parted, her annoyed tone a harsh contrast to the fond expression of her face. “Or are you still holding me hostage?”

He twirled a lock of her long, loose hair around his finger, smirking up at her with his signature cat-like grin. Ugh, he was practically glowing, the gorgeous bastard.

“You know what they say: if you love someone, let them go.” He gave her a gentle nudge with his hand. “Be free, little bug.”

“Oh, how gracious of you.” 

Finally she slipped out from the bed, not missing the way his eyes trailed her body as she walked to the bathroom. She didn’t feel the need to close the door—there wasn’t really any point to privacy anymore considering just how much of her he had seen since the night before. She didn’t have much else to hide.

Relieving herself after brushing her teeth and running a comb through her tangled hair, she poked her head out of the doorway, looking at him expectantly. He was still lounging in bed, appearing so much like a goddamn model that she wanted to either stare at him all day or demand he stop being so pretty lest she combust into a shade of fiery crimson.

(She didn’t mean that.

He could be as pretty as he wanted. She’d love him no matter what.)

“You coming, kitty?” she asked, eyeing his lithe form appreciatively.

“Yes,” he said, stretching his arms above his head as he squinted against the rays of sunlight that streamed in through the large cabin windows. He brushed his bangs out of his face, clearly annoyed with how they were obscuring his vision. “This cat would very much like to wash himself. I, uh… feel kinda gross.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, watching as he untangled himself from the blankets and accompanied her in the spacious bathroom. “Kind of didn’t expect that.”

“What?” he asked. He turned the shower to a warm setting, waiting until steam began to cloud out from the water before he stepped under the generous spray. “Feeling gross?”

She followed him into the shower, sighing at the way the heat soothed her tired muscles. “Yeah. They never tell you about that kind of thing in romance novels. That or the soreness.”

Worry instantly flashed in his eyes. “You’re sore?”

“A little,” she said. “But it’s not a bad kind of sore. It’s like… nice.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” she asked as she began to lather shampoo in her hair. She grinned back at him. “I found the experience quite enjoyable, didn’t you?”

He laughed, his cheeks flushing from the memory. Wordlessly he stood behind her, taking over the duty of washing her hair in what was a very domestic gesture. She hummed pleasantly as his fingers scrubbed her scalp. “Well, yeah. I thought that was obvious.”

Smiling, Marinette leaned back into him, enjoying the way he provided her head with gentle, pleasing touches. It was a tad surprising how comfortable she felt around him already; she didn’t feel at all self-conscious being bare in front of him, even if she had been in a state of near-panic about it yesterday. He’d seen so much of her in the last twenty-four hours that it simply didn’t faze her anymore. What was there to be shy about when he’d had his mouth and hands in places she’d only ever dreamed of? 

They had been so close for seven whole years. Living together had only exemplified their bond. 

In fact, Marinette thought, it almost felt as if they’d been dating for years. They practically had been, anyway… just without all the kissing and, uh- other… things…

Which… they were dating now, weren’t they?

Sure, they hadn’t exactly discussed it, but… she could assume… right?

Perhaps the shower wasn’t the most appropriate place to ask…

“Yeesh,” she said, wincing as she stared at the scratches along his back after he'd turned to grab his body wash. She gingerly ran her fingers over the grooves, gazing at him apologetically as he swiveled his head to look back at her. “I’m sorry about these.”

“‘Bout what?”

“Your back.”

Adrien’s head rotated from side to side as he tried to crane his neck backward. “What happened?”

Marinette frowned. “I kind of left you with a few, uh… love scratches.”

“You did? When?”

She blushed. “Last night.”

“Oh!” Adrien smiled at her, turning so that he could grasp her hands. “I didn’t even feel it. Don’t worry about it, Marinette.” He smirked, leaning closer to her face until his nose brushed hers. “Actually, if I’m being honest, that’s kind of a turn on.”

Snorting humorously, Marinette grinned. “You would think that’s hot, wouldn't you?”

“What can I say,” he shrugged, handing her the soap as she reached for it, “I like it rough.”

“As if you’d know,” she said. “You were as much of a virgin as I was.”

“Doesn’t mean a guy can’t have his fantasies about being tied up.”

“Ew, stop,” she laughed, no matter how pleasing of a visual that thought was.

After they had cleaned themselves and stepped out of the bathroom, Marinette felt rejuvenated. She briefly admired the sight of Adrien naked in front of her, only feeling a little disappointed when he dressed himself in a white T-shirt and jeans. 

When he noticed her staring, he shot her a cocky wink, which she scoffed at. Turning away, she felt embarrassed by the redness on her cheeks.

Apparently she still couldn’t get enough of him, the attractive jerk.

(Not a jerk. A sweetheart. An absolute softy who was so sweet and gentle and caring and ugh—)

She dressed herself quickly, pulling a red blouse over her head and tucking it into her jeans.

“Come here,” she said after she’d pulled her hair into a bun, watching as he toyed with the blonde mop on his head. He obeyed wordlessly, standing at her side—as if she’d ever have to ask him to move closer to her. 

Reaching up, she brushed back what she could of his golden locks, wrapping an elastic around the clump of hair she had managed to pull back into a small ponytail. “There,” she said, proud of her work. “Now we match.”

Adrien laughed, the sound so beautiful it made her cheeks glow pink. “Thanks. It’s been getting too long. I really need to cut it.”

“No,” she whined. “I like it.”

“Oh.” He grinned. “I’ll have to keep it, in that case.”

It was just past ten in the morning when they finally ventured out of the bedroom. Marinette paused at the bottom of the stairs as she heard Nino and Alya's voices filtering in from the main room of the cabin, feeling uncertain where she and Adrien were standing dating-wise but not wanting to hide their relationship from their friends. 

She glanced down at their connected fingers and regarded her partner with a raised eyebrow in question. 

Adrien leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead. “It’s okay, Marinette.”

She smiled in return. 

It’s okay.

Nino and Alya were sitting together on the couch, Alya with her laptop resting on her thighs and Nino with his arm slung around her shoulders as he idly scrolled through his phone. The lazy morning sun bathed the interior of the cabin in golden warmth; it was very relaxing, which clearly her friends were taking advantage of. They seemed so at ease together—as two people should be when they’d been dating as long as Nino and Alya had. They were the least judgmental people Marinette had ever met in her life, so—

So why did she feel so nervous?

“Hey,” Adrien whispered. He squeezed her hand, caressing her knuckles with his thumb. “You okay?”

She smiled, immediately comforted by his touch. Leaning up to kiss his cheek, she said, “I’ve never been better.”

The look on their friends’ faces as she and Adrien settled onto the loveseat together was priceless. Marinette caught the way Alya’s eyebrows shot into her hairline before she corrected herself, pretending as if she hadn’t even noticed that they'd come down the stairs. Instead, her focus hardened on her laptop, fingers typing away on some journalism report or whatever it was she was working on. To give her some credit, she was acting as nonchalant as she possibly could while a wide, knowing smirk simultaneously spread across her face.

Marinette regarded her friend with a flat look. Glancing at Adrien, he offered her a shrug, an awkward smile appearing on his features.

"Look who's finally awake," Nino said, grinning. He glanced up from his phone, appearing as if he hadn't even bothered to notice them until now… which was very suspicious, Marinette noted, knowing how perceptive the pair were. 

"So…" Alya began, sharing a glance with her fiancé. "How did you two sleep?"

"Good," Marinette said. Avoiding the subject she knew was inevitable because naturally she was just so fucking awkward, she asked, "You guys want to order breakfast?"

"Breakfast?" Nino laughed. "It's past ten, 'Nette. We already ate."

"Though I'm sure they've worked up quite the appetite," Alya added with a chuckle of her own.

Both Marinette's and Adrien's faces flooded with color. 

She snapped her eyes to him as they communicated wordlessly, the same question racing back and forth between their minds:

Nino and Alya couldn't know, could they? How could they know?!

…Had she and Adrien really been that loud?

She felt a wave of embarrassment crash over her entire body as the realization that maybe they hadn't been as quiet as they'd initially thought throttled her brain.

Oh my god, she thought, wanting to whine from the mortification. They heard us! They totally heard us!

"Well…" Adrien said, reaching up to rub at the nape of his neck—a tell-tale nervous habit Marinette had picked up on years ago. "We can make something, Mari. You hungry?" 

He stood from the loveseat, offering his hand. A reassuring smile wove its way onto his face, which calmed her explosive nerves momentarily. She grasped his fingers with her own as she followed him to the kitchen. Her eyes stared hard at her friends while Adrien led her to the fridge, not taking her gaze off of the suspiciously sinister smirks that were plastered on their faces.

"That was awkward," she whispered, her knuckles brushing his side as they walked. "Do you think they know?"

Adrien opened the fridge, rummaging through it in search of food. "How could they? We were so quiet."

Her cheeks heated as she finally turned her attention to him. "...Were we?"

Adrien paused, staring hard at the carton of milk in his hands as he mulled the thought over. After a moment he sighed, grinning sheepishly as he ran his hand down his face. "You know, the walls here are pretty thin."

She could feel the humiliation dripping down her back like ice cold water. "Oh my god, Adrien. Alya is going to make fun of me for months!"

He laughed, leaning over to peck the side of her head with his lips. "Aw, come in. It was worth it."

Humming thoughtfully, as if she were giving the notion a great deal of thought, she gave the underside of his chin a gentle scratch. "Hmm, yeah. I guess it was."

"You guess?" he snorted. Grabbing a baguette from the counter and pulling it out of its paper bag, he regarded her with a teasing raise of his brow. "Geez, Marinette, I would've liked to think I was a little better than that."

"I dunno," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. Her teeth nibbled on her bottom lip as she restrained her laughter. "You were pretty clumsy."

"Oh, I was clumsy?" he snickered, pointing the loaf of bread in her direction as if he was brandishing a weapon. "I seem to recall you almost breaking my—"

"Hey, come on." She pushed his face away as he leaned in closer, her palm pressing against his cheek. Her grin nearly split her face from how wide it grew. "It's not my fault that you’re bigger than average.”

"And how would you know? Seen a lot of dicks in your life?"

"I'm looking at one right now."

His laughter was loud as it rang from the kitchen and bounced off the large open ceilings. "Meowch! I'm sorry, my Lady, but I don't think this is working out. I can't let my girlfriend bully me. That’s toxic."

Her heart skipped a beat as it fluttered excitedly in her chest, her eyes widening at the title he’d graced her with. "Oh," she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she gazed up at her partner, who was so tall that it was infuriatingly attractive. "I'm your girlfriend now, am I? How forward of you."

He froze. The baguette crunched in his hands as his grip on the innocent bread tightened. "Um… Sorry. I didn't mean to assume. I just thought… I mean, I’d like you to be my girlfriend. If you want to be."

Marinette smiled at just how adorably awkward he was. Reaching up to ruffle his hair, she said, "Well, boyfriend, I promise not to bully you if you promise to be nice."

His eyes lit up so bright that it nearly blinded her. 

Man, he was looking at her with such love in his gaze that it nearly made her want to pass out or scream. How could he unabashedly—unashamedly look at her as if she were his sole reason for living? How could he be so honest about his feelings and let them out in the open like it was nothing, like it was so easy to love her that he’d been doing it nearly all his life?

"Okay," he said, his voice so soft and so wonderful. "I promise, Mari."

Flushing, she looked away, the intensity of his expression making her face feel hot. "Good."

He smiled then, a warm, affectionate curl of his lips, and it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen in her entire life that she wanted to scream or cry or capture his lips with her own in a never-ending kiss.

They made their breakfast—or, uh, brunch at this point—in comfortable silence. It was a stark contrast from yesterday afternoon when the air had been charged with a potent dose of sexual energy. While they still periodically glanced at each other, there was no heat in their eyes; instead, as Marinette caught Adrien's gaze lingering on her face, she saw nothing but pure, unadulterated love radiating from his expression, knowing that it was reflected back in her own features. 

She finally understood what people meant when they said that being in love made them feel fuzzy inside. Except the “fuzziness” was less, well… fuzzy, and more like a warm hug, soft and comforting as if she had been wrapped in a cozy blanket fresh out of the dryer on a cold, rainy evening. 

It reminded her of how her fingers tingled pleasantly when she held a mug of warm cocoa; of how she felt when her parents saved her a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie after a rush in the bakery; of sprawling out in the sun during lazy afternoons relaxing on her terrace above her childhood bedroom; of endless summer nights spent racing across rooftops with her partner by her side. 

He was her best friend, through and through… and never in her life had she ever felt a happiness that felt so right.

She leaned over to kiss him, just because she could. "I love you," she said, realizing she had yet to tell him today. "I mean it, Adrien."

Smiling, he squeezed her hand in his grasp, placing his lips on her forehead. "Love you too, girlfriend."

She rolled her eyes, though there was no animosity in her expression. "You know Alya is going to freak when she finds out Ladybug and Chat Noir are dating."

"Hmm, maybe." He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer against him. His nose brushed hers as he leaned in. "But I like having you to myself for now."

Marinette giggled. "Yeah. Me too."

After breakfast, they walked back to sit in the main room of the cabin, so preoccupied with each other that they barely noticed the grin on Alya's face as she glanced at their entwined fingers. 

"So," she said, looking up from her laptop. "You guys are getting along pretty well now. Did you finally talk out whatever the hell was going on between you two?"

Marinette nodded. She squeezed her partner's knuckles. "Oh, yeah. We're good now."

"Talked everything out," Adrien said.

The twin smirks that spread across Nino and Alya's faces were devilish. 

"Mhmm," Alya said, looking down at her computer. "Yeah, sure, you talked. That's why I heard Marinette moaning last night."

"And this morning," Nino piped in, biting his knuckles as he tried (and failed) to contain his laughter.

Marinette flushed red, her eyes widening. Her fingers gripped the cushions of the loveseat. "Oh, be quiet!"

“Must’ve been a whole lot of talking,” Alya continued as if she were merely discussing the weather and not the fact that two of her best friends had clearly been up to a little more than just conversation the night before. "So much talking that you were being pretty vocal about how happy you were to talk."

Looking over at Adrien for assistance, Marinette realized that her silent plea for help was to no avail. Her partner was smirking of all things—damn alley cat—looking quite pleased with himself for being the exact reason she hadn’t been able to keep her voice down.

“Adrien,” she whined, betrayed.

Alya giggled. "Aw, come on. Don't be shy! It's cute. I'm happy for you guys, really. Just, um…" She glanced at her fiancé, who was snickering behind his hand. "Maybe be a little quieter next time, okay? Unlike you, some people like to sleep at night."

Standing from the couch, Marinette hastily walked over to the sliding glass door, whipping it open with the strength of ten-thousand suns. "I'mgoingoutsidenow bye!"

She slammed the door behind her. 

Nearly squealing from embarrassment, Marinette flopped down onto the bench in front of the fire pit, staring hard into the ashes.  She muffled her scream with her fingers as she buried her head in her palms.

The idea that her friends not only knew exactly what she and Adrien had gotten up to last night, but had heard them…

Ugh.

UGH.

(It was kind of funny, actually, but she stomped down the laughter that threatened to burst from her chest because she was embarrassed and even though it was just Alya and Nino it was still so very humiliating that while she’d been having the time of her life the night before the other two people in the house had heard her whimpering her boyfriend’s name.)

"So…" Adrien’s voice rose from behind her, causing her to look up from her hands. He leaned against the glass door as he closed it behind him. "I think they know."

The amused grin on his face made her want to kiss it off his lips.

“You think?” she said, chuckling despite herself. She sighed, placing her head in her hand as she rested her elbow on the armrest of the bench. “We’re not going to hear the end of it, you know. They’re going to use that as joke material for years.”

They’ll probably talk about it at our wedding, she wanted to say but refrained, because it was too soon to be discussing such things no matter how long she had been dreaming of the day.

Adrien shrugged, settling himself on the bench next to her. His hand smoothed over her own as he held it in his grasp. “It’s alright. Don’t be embarrassed, Mari. They’re just mad because they missed out on a good time.”

That caused her to let out a loud laugh. Sitting up, she shoved him playfully in the shoulder, her lips twitching upward into a wide smile. “You’re such a weirdo!”

He giggled like some delighted little teenager, wrapping his arm around her side as he pulled her against his side. “Yeah, but you knew that going into this. If you’re gonna date me, you have to be prepared for a little weirdness.”

“Oh, I’m prepared for it.” She leaned against him, relishing the feeling of his thumb stroking her hand as he held it within his own. “I live with you, remember? I know just how weird you can be, Monsieur ‘I spent three-hundred euros on snacks—’ ”

“Hey, you loved that.”

“I don’t love that everything in our pantry has probably gone stale from how long it’s been sitting there.”

“Yeah, well, I learned my lesson,” he said, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. “Throwing up a whole pack of Oreos over the balcony was enough to turn me away from them for a lifetime.”

“Maybe you just need to learn to pace yourself.”

“I’m the one that needs lessons on pacing myself?” he asked, grinning. “Tell that to yourself. I’m still exhausted.”

“Hey,” she said, returning his smirk with one of her own. “You loved that.”

He hummed thoughtfully, resting his head on his arms as he leaned back against the back of the seat. “Yeah. I did.”

She patted his chest. “Good kitty.”

The sun caught his hair as it peeked through the clouds, causing it to shine like wisps of pure gold. His eyes—which were crinkled around the edges from how wide he smiled—glowed warm with affection for her. At times like this, when Adrien looked so happy and content to merely be in her presence, Marinette was sure that if he were able to, he’d purr. 

“Hey,” he said after a moment, an amused glint in his eyes. “You know what’s hilarious?”

“Besides the fact that you still don’t know how to grocery shop?”

“Shush, you.” He nudged her leg with his foot. “What I’m trying to say—if you’d so graciously allow me, Ladybug—is that… this whole time, we’ve been lying to people and telling them that we’ve been living together, when we actually have been.”

Marinette snorted as the realization hit her. “Oh my god, you’re right! We're so stupid!”

“Hey, at least we don’t have to lie to my dad anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re actually dating now,” he said, tilting her chin upward to look him in the eye. “So it’s not a lie.”

“I never wanted it to be a lie in the first place,” she admitted.

Adrien’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, really? You were crushing on me even then, huh?”

“Adrien,” she said, resting her head on his chest. “I’ve been crushing on you since you handed me that umbrella on your very first day of school.”

She could feel his heart skip a beat as she spoke, his eyes widening. 

“You’re joking,” he said.

Blushing, she shook her head. “I’m serious.”

“We could’ve been dating this whole time?”

“If we hadn’t been so oblivious, yes.”

Adrien was quiet. Really quiet.

Concerned she had said something wrong, Marinette looked up, moving her head to gaze at her boyfriend (oh my god, her boyfriend) with concern. “You okay?”

He smiled, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. I’m just…” 

“Surprised?” she asked with a smile of her own.

“Yeah. I mean… I’m just shocked. If we had started dating as teenagers, then maybe—” He looked at her, the sparkle in his eyes an adorable combination of amusement and pure endearment. “Then maybe we would’ve been married by now. It’s crazy.”

Married.

Her breath left her body at just the idea.

“Adrien,” she wheezed, her voice so, so small. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

His eyes widened in realization, the words that had slipped from his lips finally registering in his mind. He leaned back, accidentally jostling her in the process. “Shit, you’re right. That was so weird. We’ve only been dating for like a day, and I have to go and make things awkward by talking about marriage like some love blind fool—”

Oh, no. He was babbling. He always babbled when he was nervous, the poor thing. While it was cute, she didn’t want him to feel on edge, thinking he’d made an uncomfortable slip-up when to her, it had been quite the opposite.

Smiling fondly, she placed her palm on his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his skin. “You’re so silly, minou. Dating for one day and you’re already talking about marriage? I mean, I can’t say it’s not in character for you. You are quite the romantic.”

The tension left his shoulders as he released the breath he’d been holding. 

“Yeah, well, what can I say?” he asked, pulling her closer. His breath ghosted her lips as his mouth hovered above hers. “I’ve been in love with you for seven years. It’s not like the idea hasn’t crossed my mind once or twice.”

She hummed, pressing her lips against his for only a moment—just long enough to process the fact that he’d loved her for seven years and counting. “Well, you’re not the only one who’s dreamed about us getting married someday. Now come on,” she said, pulling him to a stand as she began walking toward the door. “I want to go swimming. Let’s go get our swimsuits.”

“Marinette, wait!” he called, racing after her. “You can’t say something like that and just walk away!”

She laughed, hurrying back into the cabin and up the stairs. “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you!”

He chased her to their bedroom, and as they donned their swimsuits and ventured back to the same part of the lake they’d spent the majority of their time the day before—this time joined by Alya and Nino—Marinette knew that their happiest memories together were only just beginning.

The week went by too quickly. Before they knew it, it was time to go home.

“I’m going to miss this,” Marinette said. Her eyes roamed the bedroom they’d slept in for the previous six days, traveling from the windows to the high ceiling before finally settling on the bed, pausing there as the memories rushed through her mind.

Adrien smiled. He grasped her hand in his own. “Me too.”

He watched as his girlfriend struggled to stuff her clothes into her suitcase, which was practically bursting from how full it was packed. When it wouldn’t close, she grumbled, leaning on top of it with her knees and putting her whole body weight on the bag, which… albeit wasn’t much, but it was an admirable attempt. 

He snickered. Man, she was so cute. He was absolutely in love with her.

“Here,” Adrien said as he walked over and opened her luggage, removing some of the excess clothing and placing it into one of his bags. “Just put it in mine. We’re going to the same place anyway.”

Plagg flitted over to land on top of his shoulder, peering over their array of bags, clothing, and travel supplies. “Are we finally going home?”

Marinette smiled, scratching under the kwami’s chin. “Aw, come on, Plagg. Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy getting to sit around and do nothing for a week?”

He huffed, turning away. “I don’t enjoy anything.”

“Well I liked it,” Tikki piped in, placing herself on Marinette’s pink-and-white spotted suitcase. “We should do this more often.”

"I hope the city didn't go up in flames while we were gone," Marinette said, finally clasping her suitcase closed. "What if something happened?"

Adrien gave her a reassuring smile. He rubbed his hand on her back in comforting circles. "I'm sure everything is okay, ‘Bug. And if it's not, we'll handle it together, right?"

“Yeah,” she said. The fondness glowing in her gorgeous blue eyes was still a sight he was still adjusting to seeing on a daily basis. “Together.”

The drive home was melancholy. 

While he was eager to get back to the apartment he shared with the person he held most dear, Adrien felt sad to leave behind the quaint little place that had kickstarted their relationship. There were so many memories in those walls… Memories of firsts, of laughter and love; it pained him to watch the cabin grow smaller and smaller as the car rolled down the gravel path. When they turned back onto the road and their vacation home disappeared behind the trees, he sighed, tearing his attention away from the back window and facing forward. 

“You okay?” Marinette asked, placing her hand on his arm. 

Nodding, he smiled. “I’m perfect.”

She eyed him knowingly. “We’ll come back.”

“I’d like that.”

This time, while they relaxed in the back seat, they were not at all ashamed of their closeness.

When Marinette dozed off with her head perched on his shoulder, Adrien grinned, pressing a gentle, adoring kiss on her forehead, because how could he resist when he loved her so desperately?

He didn’t miss the way Nino smirked at him like a proud dad through the rear view mirror. 

Adrien couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed. How could he be embarrassed when he wasn’t at all ashamed of his feelings for the woman beside him?

She was his best friend. His partner. His Ladybug.

He’d be with her till the end of time, and even after.

The drive didn’t feel nearly as long as it had in the beginning of their trip. Before he even had a chance to process the sight of buildings passing by the window, increasing in capacity the deeper they drove into the familiar city he had sworn to protect with his life, they were pulling up to his and Marinette’s apartment complex, finally, finally home.

“Hey, Maribug,” he whispered, gently nudging his girlfriend—his girlfriend, his girlfriend, his girlfriend, he still couldn’t get over it—awake. “Time to get up.”

Marinette squinted up at him, rubbing her eyes as she let out the most adorable little squeak of a yawn. “We’re back already?”

He nodded. “Let’s get our stuff.”

Saying goodbye to Nino and Alya was harder than either of them had expected. Adrien had become so used to their presence the past two weeks that the idea that they were about to leave the country didn’t feel real. It almost felt like a joke—a sad one that tore at his heartstrings and made him mourn the time they’d spent together cooped up in the cozy cabin, wishing they could go back to the comfort of a house shared with his best friends.

He didn’t cry—though it was hard not to.

“It’ll be okay,” Alya said, tears streaming down her cheeks as she squeezed her best friend in a hug so tight that Adrien wondered if Marinette could even breathe from the strength of her hold. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Sooner than you know it.”

“Promise?” Marinette sniveled, choking back sobs.

Alya held her tighter. “Promise.”

He didn’t want to admit it, but as Nino wrapped his arms around his shoulders and bid him goodbye, Adrien felt wetness prick his eyes, the threat of tears lodging itself as a heavy lump in his throat.

“Be safe,” he said, patting his friend’s back. “And good luck. You’re… you’re gonna be an amazing dad.”

Nino smiled, his eyes misty. “Thanks, man. That means a lot. And hey, congrats. You and Marinette are a perfect match.”

Adrien felt his chest tighten with emotion. “Thank you.”

And then they were gone, on their way to the airport to travel back to sunny California so, so far away.

Adrien held onto Marinette as she cried, grieving the loss of friends although they vowed they would be back soon. 

It didn’t feel soon enough. He felt hollow inside, the absence of their presence making him feel as if there was a hole in his chest.

Stepping through the precipice of their apartment felt different. Just a week ago he and Marinette could barely stand being around each other, and now—

Now all he wanted to do was be close to her, to hold her in his arms, squeeze her tight, and never, ever let her go. 

It felt strange, but in a good way; this was their home, where they'd spend their lives together—at least for a little while.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked, frowning at the sight of tears dripping down her cheeks as she unpacked her suitcase on her bed.

She sniffled, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Her voice was hoarse as she spoke. “I’m okay, kitty. Don’t worry.”

He smiled at her. “You know it’s okay to not be okay.”

She looked up at him then, her round blue eyes wet with sadness, and before he had time to process the quiver of her lip she burst into tears.

"Aww, Buginette," he cooed, walking to her side and wrapping her in his arms. "It's alright. You'll see her again soon."

He embraced her until she calmed down, whispering soothing words against her hair and holding her tight.

After her tears had subsided, Adrien kissed her with the promise of making her a nice dinner while she soaked in the bath, but was sorely disappointed in himself when he ended up accidentally burning their meal to a crisp. Plagg had taunted him—so much for a romantic evening. Though Marinette swore she found the gesture sweet, he could see the crinkle in her eyes and the familiar amused twitch of her lips as she bit back her laughter.

Ah, well. At least he managed to cheer her up, even if he had made the apartment cloudy with smoke. 

They ordered takeout instead, enjoying their food relaxing on the fire escape, watching the sun set over their beloved home. As Adrien watched the Parisian lights dazzle in the sky, he looked down at his girlfriend, knowing she sparkled brighter than the city itself.

He loved her. He loved her so much that it was overwhelming in the best way.

As the hour grew later, he showered and changed into his pajamas, eager to get some rest after a long day. However, as he switched on the light in his room and made his way to his bed, he grinned at the sight of the figure curled underneath the covers and cocooned in his blankets, looking far too comfortable to be nestled in a bed that wasn’t her own.

(Of course he didn't mind. He wanted her there.)

Marinette’s eyes were shut, her head resting on his pillow as if she belonged nowhere else.

(And she didn’t. She belonged right there in his bed, sharing whatever he had, being wherever he was.)

“Excuse me,” he said as he climbed onto the bed, smiling when his girlfriend opened one of her eyes to squint at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Sleeping,” she said.

“In my bed?”

“Where else?”

“Your bed.”

“I don’t like my bed.”

He brushed her hair away from her face. “And why is that?”

She grinned up at him. “Because you’re not in it.”

“Ohh,” he said as if he had only just realized. “You sure it’s not just because I own a really expensive mattress?”

She shrugged. “Could be.”

He placed his hand on his chest. “I’m hurt, my Lady. You’re only after me for my high-quality goods. Admit it.”

Turning to face him, she simpered smugly, pulling her hand out of the covers to reach around and squeeze his butt. “Oh, your goods are high quality, that’s for sure.”

He laughed. “Hey, I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”

A look that he’d begun to grow very accustomed to flashed in Marinette’s eyes, darkening their blue color with desire. “Want me to show you just how much I appreciate it?”

Her eyes alone could light him aflame. 

“As if you have to ask,” he said with a smirk. 

Marinette giggled, slipping out from underneath the covers and crawling on top of him. He grasped her hips as she straddled him, glancing down at her oversized sleep-shirt—one of his T-shirts, he realized, which was far more attractive to him than he had expected. The fabric rode up her thighs to reveal a particular pair of Ladybug-patterned panties. His lips curled into a devilish grin, his fingers toying with the hem of her shirt. 

“Where did you get those?” he asked.

“You like these, huh?” she said. “Good to know. I’ll wear them more often.”

“I’d prefer them off of you, to be honest.”

Marinette laughed as he hooked his fingers underneath the band and began to slide the garment down her legs. When she pressed her mouth against his, he sighed, relishing the scent of lavender that rose from her hair, the softness of her skin, the sweet taste of her lips. 

She was everything he had ever wanted and more; how, he wondered, did he ever get so lucky?

Well… with literal Lady Luck at his side, he supposed he didn't have to wonder after all.

Later, when the lights had been turned out and she curled up against his side, her fingers combed through his tangled hair, causing him to sigh in pure bliss. He dragged his lips across her own in a slow, languid kiss. 

"You're my forever," he murmured, feeling the familiar call of sleep taking hold of his brain. "You know that?"

She hummed, the sound like heaven to his ears. Her nails gently scratched his scalp. Kissing his head, she said, "And you're mine."

Contented by her familiar warmth, Adrien smiled.

He knew that he didn’t belong anywhere else but in her arms. For the first time in his life, Adrien felt like he was truly home. 

Chapter Text

Marinette stared down at the tiny life in her arms, cradling the bundle wrapped in soft pink blankets closer to her chest. Shifting, the infant cooed, squinting her golden eyes shut as her hands—such little, fragile hands—balled into fists at her sides. She nuzzled her face against Marinette’s shirt, enthralled by the red color, and as her eyes squinted open to look up at the world, her lips parted in a small, quiet squeak.

It felt surreal to hold something so new and delicate. There she was, a miniature human—a minute package made as a combination of her parent’s love and adoration. Smiling, Marinette offered the child one of her slender fingers, her lips twitching upward as the baby squeezed her appendage in her grasp.

“She’s so small,” Adrien whispered, scooting closer from his seat next to her on the couch. “How can something be so… little?”

“Because she’s a baby,” Marinette said. She kept her voice quiet, not wanting to startle the tiny human that was cuddling against her. Keeping her head supported, Marinette adjusted her position with the infant in her lap, careful not to jostle the baby while her head was still so heavy. The newborn let out a quiet little mewl, her voice high-pitched and breathy as she drifted in and out of dreamless sleep. 

Marinette smiled. All babies were cute, but she knew this one was certainly the cutest she had ever seen. From the soft brown skin to the dark mass of untamed curls that sat atop her head, she was the perfect mix of her parents: adorable, beautiful, and—as the baby nearly squeezed the life out of her fingers—strong.

Yep, Marinette thought, wiggling her finger just slightly. That’s Alya’s baby, alright.

“Can I hold her?” Adrien asked, looking at the baby hopefully. 

Marinette could see his hands twitching at his sides. The desperation in his expression was nearly too sweet for her to handle. His green eyes were alight with excitement, sparkling with the joy of experiencing the presence of a newborn baby for the first time, the love he felt for his metaphorical niece reflected in their delighted shimmer.

Marinette scoffed softly, grinning as she passed the infant into Adrien’s arms. “You were just holding her for ten minutes! You’ve gotta learn to share, no matter how much she likes you.”

Supporting the tiny baby's head with his arms, Adrien smiled, looking down at the little life he held in his hands with such adoration on his face that it damn nearly made Marinette cry from how adorable her boyfriend was.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m just good with kids,” he said. He gently pressed his finger against the baby’s nose, his face brightening as she squealed in glee.

Alya’s voice came from behind them. “That or you’re getting baby fever.”

Eyes widening, Marinette shook her head. She nearly choked on the breath of air her body had inadvertently sucked in through her parted lips at her friend’s comment. 

“Absolutely not,” she said, scooting away from her boyfriend as his expression lit up. “Not any time soon.”

Resting her elbows on the back of the couch as she placed her head in her hands, Alya laughed. “Yeah, that’s what we said,” she said, gesturing to Nino as he sat next to their friends. “Now look at us.”

“Piper’s so cute,” Adrien said, lightly bouncing the baby in his arms. “How can something be adorable?”

“I mean, she’s got great genes,” Nino said, tickling his daughter on the cheek. Piper kicked her feet in protest. “She has our good looks, that’s for sure.”

Just then, Piper began crying, her tiny hands balled into fists as her face scrunched up into a distressed wail. As if he had done it a million times before, Adrien rocked his friends’ daughter in his arms, holding her as perfect as any person possibly could without having the actual experience of being a parent. He smiled down at Piper, the warmth in his eyes enough to make Marinette melt, and as he leaned down to leave a delicate kiss on the baby’s forehead, well—

Well, it made her have some thoughts—alarming thoughts—about their future.

It was amazing how good Adrien was with kids. And, though she didn’t want to admit it, the sight of her boyfriend fawning over their best friends’ baby was stirring some unexpected images in her head. 

Not unwelcome images, just… unexpected.

(She was not ready for children. They had only been dating five months. She would not—could not—imagine her partner holding a different child, one with green eyes and black hair and freckles on its nose, because it was too soon. 

Far too soon to be thinking about it, anyway...)

When Piper wasn’t immediately soothed by his ministrations, Adrien seemed crestfallen. The baby continued to wail, her mouth opening and closing in want as she sobbed, desperate for her mother. 

Adrien frowned. Looking to Alya for help, his eyes round with stress, Alya smiled and scooped her daughter up from his arms.

“Don’t look so offended, Adrien,” Alya said, cradling her child. “She’s just hungry.”

Adrien pouted as Piper’s crying immediately ceased the moment she was back in her mother’s embrace. 

Aw, poor kitty. Marinette resisted the urge to wrap him in a hug. He looked so sad, the big baby—it was wholly endearing. She patted his hand comfortingly, smiling at him as their eyes met in a wordless promise, and when he responded with a grin of his own, warmth spilling from his expression alone, she felt as if she were the only person in the room. Or, wait, scratch that—the only person in the whole world.

It's okay, she thought, squeezing his fingers. You're doing great.

Nino smiled at him, giving him an encouraging nudge on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. You’ll make a good dad someday.”

“Someday,” Marinette emphasized. “Someday in the far, far, far future.”

Grinning, Adrien leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder as he gazed up at her with affection painting his face. His shaggy hair tickled her neck, which was growing so long that it was very, very hard to not become distracted by running her fingers through his gorgeous golden locks. “Aw, what’s wrong, Mari? Not ready for that type of commitment with me?”

She scooted away, giggling. “I’m not talking about children with you until after we’re married.”

Feigning a gasp, her partner leaned back, placing a hand on his chest in surprise. “Marinette!” he cooed, an amused glint in his eyes. “Are you proposing?”

“In your dreams.”

“I think we’re moving too fast,” he joked, pushing her away with his hand. “We’ve not even been together a year! Can you imagine the tabloids? It'd be such a scandal!"

“And yet you were talking about kids,” she reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t,” he corrected. “As if I’m ready for children. Do you see these good looks? I can’t ruin my supermodel physique with pregnancy.” He made a point of running his hand down his body, tossing his head back as if he were posing in front of a camera, all while his signature Chat Noir smirk was plastered across his cheeks. 

Marinette snorted with laughter. His silliness was attractive in a stupid way that made her feel embarrassed, but she smiled anyway. Alya rolled her eyes as she suckled her newborn.

Patting his friend's back, Nino said, “He’d be a great father, though. Just, uh…” He paused as Adrien fell backward off the couch from the sheer force of his dramatic posing, nearly snapping his neck in half as he tumbled to the floor and let out a small, pathetic whine. “Maybe not right now.”

“He is a dad,” Marinette cut in, shaking her head at her boyfriend's antics. “We have a baby.”

Silence.

All eyes turned on her. 

Adrien, gaping up at her from the floor as his face paled, looked as if he were about to throw up or pass out.

Had she said something wrong...?

Perplexed, Marinette’s eyebrows climbed high on her forehead in question before the realization of what she’d said hit her and she nearly had a heart attack from what they thought she was implying because oh no—

“I’m not pregnant!” she screeched. “That’s not what I meant!”

A collective sigh of relief could be heard throughout the apartment.

Holy shit, Marinette thought, feeling lightheaded. Her heart pounded in her chest just from the implication, the thought nearly enough to cause her faint. She couldn't even imagine... and to think if she were, dropping that bomb on all of them like that would be so... ugh.

Never mind. 

Adrien looked confused for a moment, his brows furrowing just slightly before recognition flashed in his eyes and he visibly brightened. “Ohhh,” he said, sitting up from the floor. “Marinette’s right. We do have a baby.”

Nino and Alya shared a bewildered glance.

“Speaking of our baby,” Adrien said. “I want to see her.”

Marinette smiled. “I’ll go get her.”

Standing from the couch, she walked out of their main living space and into the hall, pausing briefly against the doorframe of Adrien’s old room. It had been converted into a workshop of sorts, a designing space for her and a makeshift nursery for Adrien’s plants—which was a hobby he’d picked up a few months ago when he had needed something to occupy his time after dropping down from full-time to part-time modeling. Having something to care for, even if it was just a couple of houseplants, had really helped brighten his outlook on life.

She fondly remembered the days when this room had been a mess of Adrien's clothes and items scattered haphazardly around the floor and bed. After living on his own for a decent half a year, he had at least learned to clean up after himself, which Marinette was thankful for. He'd even learned to cook too, and he was surprisingly very good at it—he loved creating all types of dishes, but not as much as Marinette loved eating them. There was nothing that could compare to coming home after a grueling day at work to see that one of her favorite dishes had already been set on the table courtesy of her amazing boyfriend.

Surprisingly, she found that she didn't miss having a room to herself. When they first started dating, she and Adrien had both agreed it would be better for them to keep separate bedrooms in case they needed space, but that hadn’t lasted long. Sleeping was easier next to their partner, and besides… they hadn’t yet come to a point where they needed space from each other. 

(Not that she ever thought they would.)

Eventually, well… some of her things ended up in Adrien’s room, while his belongings began to trickle into hers, until it came to a point where they couldn’t remember which room anything was in because they switched up where they slept every night. It was then that they both had decided to say screw it and move into one room—her bedroom.

(And yes, she traded out her old mattress for Adrien’s much nicer one.)

While Adrien’s old room had been put to good use for their respective hobbies, it was also home to something—or someone else, kept safe inside its spacious habitat that was, if Marinette was being honest, a little extravagant for something so tiny.

She reached down into the glass enclosure, sifting through the bedding and scooping up the tiny white mammal in her hands. Its miniature paws tickled her skin as she walked their pet back to the living room, cupping the rodent safely in her hands. She could feel the small pink nose snuffling against her palms as it blinked its wide black eyes up at her in curiosity.

“See?” Marinette said, lifting the hamster up high enough for her friends to view. “We are parents. Just because we don’t have a human baby doesn’t mean we don’t have a baby.”

She handed the animal to her boyfriend, who took it in his grasp with a too-wide smile splitting his cheeks. Like a proud father, Adrien held the hamster up to his eye level, making grossly adorable kissy noises at its cute little face. “Maybe that’s what we should call her,” he said. “We haven’t been able to find a good name for her yet.”

“What?” Marinette asked. “'Baby?'”

“Yeah.”

She smiled. “I like it.”

Alya laughed, shaking her head at her friends as they cooed over their pet hamster. She readjusted Piper as the baby began to fall asleep with her head on her mother’s shoulder. “Well, your child is certainly cute.”

“Not as cute as ours, though,” Nino commented slyly.

“That’s not a fair competition,” Adrien said, holding Baby closer to his chest. “They’re two entirely different species!”

Giggling, Marinette watched with mild amusement as her boyfriend and his best friend playfully argued over whose baby was cuter. Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention to Alya, who was gazing at the pair with her own share of mirth.

Man… she had really missed them. It was so nice to have  Nino and Alya back in the city, to know that they were here to stay. She really hadn't been able to bear being without her best friends any longer... which was why she was so thankful they had recently moved back to the heart of the city.

They had only settled in their new place a month ago, right before Piper was born, since they hadn’t wanted to move across the country with a brand new baby, and now lived only ten minutes away by metro. Their home was quite cozy—a little townhouse with enough space for three, and though they had been rushed to find a place to live in the brief timeframe before their child was due to arrive, the pair had really grown to like it.

Marinette was glad for them. Of all people, Nino and Alya deserved to be happy. They had been rooting for Adrien and herself for so many years—it was their turn to support them and cheer them on during their biggest steps in life.

“How are you guys liking your new place?” Marinette asked, grabbing the attention of her friend. “Settling in okay?”

Alya nodded, rubbing Piper's back at the infant murmured. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice. So much nicer than the apartment we had in California. It’s also just really great being back in Paris for good. I’ve missed it a lot.”

“I bet.”

“I’m glad to be able to see you guys again,” Alya said. “And it’s cool to be able to see my two favorite superheroes every now and then, too.”

Marinette grinned. “I bet they’re excited to see their favorite Ladyblogger back in the city.”

Alya chuckled softly, a fond glint in her eyes. “As if they’d remember me.”

“Don’t be so sure that they don’t.”

Shrugging, Alya settled on the couch next to Marinette, her lips lifting upward into a grin. “I think they’re mostly just absorbed in each other these days, to be honest.”

Adrien’s laughter—loud and startling—rose from the other side of the couch.

“What?” Alya asked, turning to look at him. “You find that funny?”

He covered his mouth with his hand in a feeble attempt to contain his childish glee. 

“I mean, you have a point,” he said, mischief sparkling in his gaze as his focus turned to Marinette. “They do seem to be really in love. It’s kind of gross, really. I mean, all that PDA? Can’t they learn to get a room?”

“Oh, please,” Alya said. “As if you and Marinette are any better.”

Adrien giggled.

Marinette resisted the urge to groan. If only she knew...

“Aw, give them a break, babe,” Nino said, grinning at his fiancée. “Their relationship is still kind of in that lovey-dovey stage. They’re gonna be at it like rabbits for a while. Give them a few more months before it finally calms down.”

Her face flushing entirely too red, Marinette squeaked, embarrassed by Nino’s insinuation. She could feel her cheeks growing hotter by the second as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We aren’t like that anymore!”

“Debatable,” Adrien said.

Marinette whipped her head around to face him. “Be quiet. As if you’re not the horniest one between us, you alley cat—”

“Hey, let’s keep this family friendly,” Alya said, making a show of lifting the sleeping baby in her arms. “Some of us have children.”

“And some of us would prefer not to talk about our sex lives in front of our friends,” Marinette added.

“No matter how prolific it is,” Adrien said, laughing.

She narrowed her eyes. “Adrien!”

“Keep that kind of energy up and we’re not going to be the only ones with a baby pretty soon,” Nino snickered.

Marinette stood from her seat, balling her hands into fists and hating just how explosively red her face grew from his comment. "That's it," she huffed. She walked out of the living room and stomped her way down the hall. “I’m done! Goodnight. I’m going to bed.”

“It’s three in the afternoon,” Alya said.

“I’m… taking a nap!”

“Why?” Alya teased. “Up late last night? I mean, I know you and Adrien have a habit of keeping other people awake, but—”

“ShutupAlya!”

Adrien blushed, laughing as his girlfriend retreated to the safety of their bedroom. He waited until the door was shut before he turned his attention to his friends. “She’ll get over it. She’s just easily embarrassed.”

Sticking out her tongue in Marinette’s direction, Alya said, “I know. That’s why it’s so much fun to tease her.”

“She is pretty cute when she’s embarrassed,” Adrien said, loud enough for Marinette to hear. He raised his voice another octave as he leaned over the back of the couch. “I wish she’d come out here and show me that cute face instead of hiding!”

“Nooo,” Marinette whined from behind the closed door. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Only because we love you,” Alya said.

“Very much,” added Adrien.

“Lots of love to go around here,” Nino said.

Marinette sighed, leaning against the doorframe. 

They were her best friends, alright… and regardless of their incessant teasing, she loved them with all her heart. Despite her embarrassment, a smile wove its way onto her face, causing her to sigh in defeat and open the door a crack as she peered into the hall. When she poked her head out from the door and met the loving gaze of her boyfriend and best friends, Marinette felt her heart swell heavy with happiness in her chest.

“Fine,” she relented, returning to the couch and flopping down into Adrien's embrace. “I can’t stay mad at any of you.”

His arms wrapped around her like they were always meant to be, squeezing her against his front. She leaned back into his touch, comforted by his warmth and the gentle movement of his hands as they rubbed up and down her arms.

This was her happy place. A home she loved, surrounded by people she loved... it was the best feeling in the world.

The more she thought about it, with her friends back in Paris with their newborn daughter, and having Adrien—the man she loved more than she loved life itself—by her side…

Marinette was the happiest she had ever been.

What, she wondered, could possibly make life any better?

One year later...

Marinette tapped her foot against the weathered iron beam she was perched on, gazing out at the twinkling city lights that decorated the skyline below her. Placing her hands on her hips, she worried at her bottom lip, fiddling with the fabric of her suit as the nervous energy in her body fought for a way out of her skin.

The evening air was frosty. As a particularly frigid breeze blew past her hair, Marinette shivered, wrapping her arms around herself in a feeble attempt to keep warm. The season was just beginning to change from fall to winter, and though it didn’t get very cold in Paris, being as high up as she was while positioned on top of the Eiffel Tower wasn’t helping to fight off the chill.

She opened her compact to check the time. Heaving a sigh, she sat on the edge of the beam, placing her yo-yo back on her hip.

Where was he? They had agreed to meet after work, since he had a supposed “surprise” for her—whatever that meant. Yet as the night dragged on, Adrien was nowhere to be found.

Exhaling, she placed her head in her palms as her impatience began to fester inside her head and transform from mild irritation into an uncomfortable anxiety.

She had been waiting an hour. Her boyfriend was usually very punctual, so what was keeping him?

Was he okay? Had something come up? Did he get held up at work, or—

The sound of her partner’s boots landing behind her caused Marinette to turn, her eyes brightening at the sight of his familiar face. Relief flooded over her body as he walked toward her with a brown paper bag in his clawed hands. The smell of something delicious floated to her nose, causing her stomach to growl greedily. 

Chat Noir sat next to her, a grin plastered on his face as he set the bag down between them. “Hello, my love,” he said, his short ponytail swishing in the breeze. “Whew, it’s cold up here.”

“I know,” she responded, leaning against his warmth. She smiled when his arms connected around her body. “I thought I was going to freeze to death up here waiting on you.”

Laughing softly, Adrien rubbed her back, his tail curling around her calf. His cat ears twitched in amusement. “Aw, I’m sorry. How could I be so cruel to keep my Lady waiting?”

“So rude of you.”

“I hope you can forgive me,” he said, feigning sadness in his expression as he lifted the brown bag that smelled so tantalizing. His lower lip jutted out in a faux pout. “And if you can’t, I hope the fact that I brought you dinner can convince you to love me again.”

Sitting up, Marinette took the bag from his hands, opening it up and peering inside. She was met with the scent of spices and tomato sauce as the heat from the food inside clouded over her cheeks. “That depends,” she said, looking back up at him, “what did you bring me?”

“Other than my love?”

“I meant for me to eat.”

Adrien grinned wickedly. “I mean, technically you could—”

She placed her finger on his lips. “Shush, you pervert.”

He laughed, the sound loud and free as it rang across the open sky. Pulling her close, he kissed the side of her head, his lips soft and warm in contrast to the evening air. Even through her mask, she could feel the delicate press of his mouth against her skin, the sensation filling her with a reminder of just how much she adored her boy.

He was quite literally her everything, and she could never imagine her life without him in it.

“It’s Italian food,” he said, pulling the to-go container out of the bag. “I know how much you love your cheese. You’re almost as bad as Plagg. No wonder you two get along so well.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, taking the box of food from his hands. “Plagg has good taste.”

“Forgive me while I throw up in my mouth.”

She snickered. “Eat one too many Oreos again?”

He sighed, covering his face with his hand. “How long are you going to hold that against me?”

“Forever, probably.”

“This is animal abuse.”

Patting his shoulder, she laughed. “Aw, poor Chat Noir. So sad. You going to break up with me now?”

“Quite the opposite, actually.”

She raised a skeptical brow. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Uh—” Seeming surprised by his own words, his eyes widened as his hand retreated to the back of his neck, scratching under his ponytail anxiously. “Never mind. I’m hungry. Let’s eat!”

Marinette narrowed her eyes. 

Okay… he was acting strange. Stranger than normal, at least. He knew he didn’t need to feel on edge around her, so why was he acting like he was going to get in trouble…?

“You okay, babe?” she asked, setting their food out between them. “You got all nervous all of a sudden. Everything alright?”

“Yeah!” His voice cracked. “Everything’s great, ‘Bug. No worries here. Just, um—it’s been a long day. You know how it is, photoshoots and all that...”

She frowned. Placing her hand over his own, she patted his knuckles comfortingly. “Is your dad breathing down your neck about modeling full-time again?”

“Well, uh—” 

“Just tell him to fuck off and leave you alone. He can’t control your life. If you’re not happy modeling, then you don’t need to—”

“Ladybug,” he laughed, grabbing her hands and squeezing them in his grasp. “It’s okay. That’s not what’s making me nervous.”

She blinked up at him, confused. “Then… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” he told her. Pointing down at her food, he smiled. “Y’know, that’s gonna get cold if you don’t eat it.”

Narrowing her eyes at her partner, Marinette frowned, feeling suspicious. She stabbed her food with her fork and chewed on it thoughtfully. “Fine,” she said after she swallowed the first bite. “But I know when something is bugging you. You’re my boyfriend, and I love you—you can talk to me.”

He smiled, his expression full of warmth. “I know, Lovebug. But I’m fine, I promise. I’d tell you if something was wrong. Can’t we just enjoy a romantic dinner together?”

“Okayyy,” she sighed, leaning against him as they shared their meal. “But I’m here for you. You know that.”

Kissing the side of her head, he said, “I know.”

Eating in silence, they watched as the city lights twinkled in the night sky, giving off a faint, golden aura to the inky expanse above them. With the wind blowing through their hair, blonde and black dancing in tandem with the breeze, they were a perfect picture of relaxation, soaking up each other’s body heat and calmed by their familiar closeness. Even as high up as they were, Marinette could pick up the faint chords of a violin playing in the distance, the sound making her ears buzz pleasantly. 

“You do have a point,” she said, her voice loud in contrast to the comfortable silence that had risen between them. “This is pretty romantic.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Adrien said. There was a slight waver to his voice—one she wouldn’t have noticed if she didn’t know him so well. “That’s kind of what I was aiming for.”

Grinning slyly, she set her empty takeout dish to the side as she finished her food. “Why? Have a special evening planned for me?”

He laughed, the sound soft and light. He rubbed at his arm, briefly glancing at another bag she had yet to notice until now—a blank white bag with no identifiable marks whatsoever. “You could say that.”

Her eyes brightened in excitement. “Ooh, really? What’s the occasion? It's not our anniversary, or my birthday...”

Adrien shrugged. “No occasion.”

His tail lashed from side to side, the cat ears on his head twitching back and forth. His fingers clenched and unclenched on the metal beam below them, his claws lightly scoring the iron. As he looked at her, a small, nervous smile weaving its way onto his face, Marinette frowned, alarmed by his sudden behavior.

“Wow, you are majorly freaking out,” she laughed, though the sound was devoid of any real humor. “You okay, kitty?”

He took in a breath, holding it for a moment, two, three, before he breathed out and nodded, grasping her hands with his own and leaving a slow, languid kiss on her lips. “Honestly?” he asked, pressing his forehead against hers as he stared deep into her eyes. Marinette nearly combusted from the sheer love she saw reflected in his bright green gaze. “I’ve never been better.”

“Then what’s going on?” she asked. 

“I…” He leaned back, still holding her hands. With one hand he reached back, his gloved fingers disappearing into the white bag before producing a tiny paper box with her parent’s logo etched on the front. Handing it to her, his cheeks tinted just the slightest color of red as she took it in her hold. “I brought you dessert.”

She peered down at the box, confused. “Dessert?”

“Go ahead,” he said, nudging her with his shoulder. He was staring down at the box in her hands with more intensity than a simple pastry warranted, his black ears tilted forward in interest. “Open it.”

Raising an eyebrow in suspicion, Marinette untied the ribbon keeping the box closed, glancing back and forth from his face to the small pink confection sitting prettily in the center of the container. It was a cupcake—vanilla with strawberry frosting. The top was decorated with small slices of the red fruit itself. It looked incredibly inviting, but why was there only one? Since when did Adrien—as sugar-obsessed as he was—not buy enough sweets for them to share?

“Is this why you got held up?” she asked, plucking the treat from the box and eyeing it appreciatively as she held it in her hand. “Had to stop at my parent’s bakery, huh?”

He laughed, looking sheepish. “Yeah, well, they were helping me with something. Go ahead,” he said, leaning closer to her. “Eat it. Just, uh- don’t choke.”

“Why?” she asked, the corners of her mouth quivering into a teasing smirk. “Is there a ring in here or something? You gonna propose, kitty?”

He stilled, his pupils shrinking to tiny, thin slits.

Her eyes widened. Mouth hanging slightly agape, Marinette nearly screamed.

“Chat Noir,” she squeaked, her body frozen like ice. “Is there a ring in here?”

The sound that slipped from his lips was a cross between a laugh and a whimper. He held up his arms in a helpless shrug. 

“Kitty!” she gasped, clutching the cupcake to her chest but regretting it the moment the pink frosting smeared across the front of her suit. Her eyes sparkled in excitement, shining wet with tears. “Really? You’re serious?”

“Eat the cupcake,” he laughed, raising the confection to her lips. “You’ll find out.”

How could she eat it now, knowing what was nestled inside? Knowing that he had been late to meet up at their favorite spot because he had stopped at her parent’s after work, had retrieved the dessert which was probably planned weeks or months in advance, which was baked earlier today in preparation for his proposal, and she’d had no idea at all—

She took a bite, small enough to reveal the sparkling piece of jewelry buried in the center of the cupcake but not enough to choke, as Adrien had said, feeling her eyes mist over at the glittering gold and silver band that jutted out from the middle of her dessert. It was poking out just enough to let its presence be known, but not enough to completely divulge its secrets that were still hidden inside. 

Marinette nearly weeped as she plucked the ring out of the center of the cupcake. Her hands trembled as Adrien took it from her fingers, the jewelry held so delicate in his grasp—as if he were afraid that the slightest wrong movement would cause it to wither to dust in his hands. It was covered in crumbs, but that didn’t matter—all that she cared about was that Adrien was holding out a ring that clearly cost more than a year’s worth of rent and he was proposing to her and oh my god stupid rich boy he’s so perfect he’s proposing oh my god he wants to get married oh my g—

She didn’t realize she was already sobbing by the time he was holding her hand. All she could do was look up at him in awe, unsure what to say, because what does a person say when they find out their best friend wants to spend the rest of eternity together as one?

“Marinette,” Adrien began, leaning down on one knee despite the fact that they were both sitting and it was a little awkward, but she didn’t care. “I know we’ve only been together for a short time, but I love you. I can’t put into words how much I love you, how much I adore you—you’re my world, my everything, the reason I wake up in the morning. I’m so blessed to be able to see your beautiful face every day, to kiss you, hold you and love you, and to have you love me in return—”

“Yes,” she interrupted, unable to restrain the tears that streamed down her cheeks. 

“Hey,” Adrien laughed, his own eyes misty with relief as he held the ring away when she went to take it from his hands, raising it high above his head. “You didn’t let me finish, Buginette. I had this whole speech planned out. I practiced in the mirror and everything. Plagg made fun of me.”

Her muscles were screaming with the urge to wrap him in a hug, to kiss him, to squeeze him and never, ever let him go, but she stayed put. Wiping at her eyes, she laughed in return, nodding at him to continue. It would be a shame for the words he’d been planning to say to go unheard… “Okay, go ahead. I’m listening.”

Adrien grinned, resuming his position on his knee as he cleared his throat and began to speak again. “What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted,” he said, winking at her as she giggled, “is that… even though we’ve only been together for a little under two years, it feels like so much longer. I’ve known since the day I met you that you were the one for me—so for eight years I’ve been thinking about the most perfect way to do this, to tell you that I love you and that I want to be with you forever, but lately I’ve realized… there is no perfect way. I just have to ask. And I can’t hold it in anymore.” He took a deep breath, squeezing her hand in his as he stared deep into her eyes. “Ladybug—Marinette—I love you. You’re my best friend, my partner, the only person I trust with my life and want to spend every second of every day with. I love you so much that I can’t even put it into words. I’ve loved you for eight years and I’ll love you for a hundred more. And even though I think I know what you're going to say, I have to ask you—” 

He raised his eyebrow teasingly, grinning as she laughed and cried from joy. Swallowing around the nervous lump in his throat, he continued, attempting to ignore the shakiness of his voice. 

“—Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she said, throwing herself in his arms and squeezing him so, so tight. He nearly dropped the ring from the force of her hug, but before it could tumble out of his hands and plummet to the street below he caught it with his fingers, causing her to laugh. 

“Here,” she said, holding out her hand. “You can put it here, for safekeeping.”

Smiling, he slipped the ring onto her finger as she admired the sparkle of diamonds that adorned the band. It was perfect in her eyes—not too big of a stone, small enough to not be too noticeable but enough to be a gorgeous reminder of her partner’s endless love and devotion. Barely discernible to the naked eye were a tiny pawprint and ladybug engraved onto the inside of the band. It was amazing in every way, as amazing as it could be, as everything was coming from him—her Adrien, her Chat Noir, her best friend and boyfriend—

Actually, she mused, her eyes shimmering alight with excitement—

—her fiancé.

“I love you,” she said, pulling his face into a passionate kiss. Her thumbs stroked his cheeks as she moved her mouth against his, reveling in the taste of his lips, the scent of his cologne, the wisps of golden hair that brushed her masked face in the evening breeze. When she pulled away, she smiled at him with so much happiness coursing through her body that she feared she would explode from just how much she adored him. “I love you, Adrien. I love you so much, of course I’ll marry you. You don’t even have to ask. I’ll marry you tomorrow if you want me to.”

He laughed then, her most favorite sound in the world. “That eager, huh?”

She shrugged, running her fingers through his hair. “What can I say? You’re irresistible.”

Smiling wider than the Seine itself, Adrien tugged her into another kiss. Marinette kissed him back, knowing that even after a year, after ten, twenty, fifty years, she would never get tired of the feeling of his mouth on her own. He was her world, her everything, her forever—from the day she’d first met him she’d known that, and it was a truth she would hold close to her heart until the very end of time.

“I also may or may not have been late for another reason,” he said, rubbing at his nape. “Do you know how hard it is to find rose petals at this hour? You can’t just buy them from a florist. They don’t keep loose petals on hand.”

“Oh, what?” she laughed, catching herself staring at the band on her finger—his promise to love her always. “You decorated our bedroom or something?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. 

“You did.”

He grinned, looking away. “Maybe I wanted to make a romantic atmosphere for when we go home. Maybe I lit some candles and spread some rose petals on the bed.” He glanced at her then, a familiar sparkle radiating from his eyes which—after nearly two years together—she had grown very accustomed to. “Maybe I can’t wait to show you how much I really love you.”

Marinette returned his smile then, loving the dark look in his gaze that lit her body aflame. She almost responded with a sensual quip of her own, a comment that would’ve surely made him kiss her like she knew he loved to, when his words registered in her head and her eyes widened, face going pale. 

“Chat Noir,” she said, voice strained. “You left lit candles in our apartment while we aren’t home?”

His jaw went slack. “Uh—”

“Adrien!” she laughed, standing quickly. “Oh my god, kitty. We can’t have a romantic evening if our home has burned down!”

“Fair point.” Standing from his seat, he brandished his baton, at least having the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Well, uh… shall we go home, my Lady?”

“Maybe we should call the fire department first,” she said, holding back her giggles. “I think a burning building is a little out of our jurisdiction as superheroes.”

He rolled his eyes, pulling her to his side. “Well, a little Ladybug magic never hurt anything.”

“An open flame will.”

“That’s it,” he said, scooping her up in his arms. “What did I say about bullying me?”

She poked him in the nose. “Only do it when necessary.”

“That is not what I said.”

“I can’t recall, then.”

She slipped out of his hold, twirling her yo-yo in her grasp and zipping over the skyline. Adrien laughed, calling after her as he trailed behind her feet, chasing his Lady over the rooftops and knowing that no matter where she went, he would follow her anywhere, because wherever Marinette was, so long as he was with her... he was home.

(And thankfully, as they slipped through the open windows of their bedroom, the apartment they loved so dearly was not—much to their relief—set ablaze.)