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“I can’t do this,” Marinette complained to her reflection, Tikki floating behind her. Marinette was wearing a simple but beautiful crimson wrap dress that accentuated her eyes and stopped just above her knees. Alya had helped her pick it out just the other day, but of course, Marinette had made some modifications to it. “Why did I ever agree to this?” she continued, groaning.
“Because mystery dates are fun, Marinette!” Tikki responded, grinning and flying before Marinette’s gaze now. “No expectations, all of that mystery. What isn’t there to like?” Tikkicontinued, her voice full of joy and excitement.
“What if I get someone weird? Or what if I get Chloe? Or Kim?”
“I thought you liked Kim?” Tikki countered.
“I do! He’s a really good friend, but not for a Valentine’s mystery date.” Marinette sighed, adjusting her hair before turning and walking to retrieve her heels. She didn’t dress up often, but Alya’s encouragement and the possibility of a blond-haired boy being present had left her with little choice.
“Didn’t most of the upper school sign up for the mystery date, Marinette?” Tikki wondered aloud after a moment.
“Yeah, so did Adrien. Me and Alya saw him put his name into the box, but Chloé has probably rigged it so she gets set up with him.”
“Marinette, have hope,” Tikki implored. “You’re lucky, and I have no doubt that today will go wonderfully. Remember, you’re Ladybug, you can do anything!”
Marinette couldn’t help but smile at Tikki’s enthusiasm. “Tell that to my algebra homework!” she teased, rolling her eyes but her smile never fading. I can do this, I CAN do this!
—
I can’t do this! Marinette screamed internally; she was standing outside of the restaurant at which the school mystery date was to take place. La Prairie was its name, and while it was a simple enough café/restaurant in the centre of Paris, they had of course gone all out with the Valentine’s Day decorations. Hearts were hung everywhere, and roses adorned the tables she could see through the windows. They even had candles on every single table! Fiddling with her spotted earrings and her clutch purse nervously, Marinette took a deep breath and pushed the door to the restaurant open, a little bell ringing as she stepped in.
The place was as she imagined it, dimly lit but for the pale lights above and the candlelight of each table flickering a little brighter than her own waning courage. This was going to go so wrong! She gulped, and slowly walked towards the waiter who stood by a podium waiting for any and all guests.
“Excuse me, sir,” Marinette began slowly, forcing a smile despite her nerves.
“Yes, madame, how can I help you?” the waiter beamed.
Marinette relaxed a little. “I’m here on the school mystery date? I didn’t know if we waited here or…?”
The waiter nodded. “Of course, from Lycee Françoise Dupont right? We have you all on this side of the restaurant. That way if you get nervous, your friends aren’t far away.”
Marinette nodded and followed the waiter as he lead her through the labyrinth of chairs, tables, customers, and of course, other waiters. She was starting to really relax now; the atmosphere was so calming. She didn’t know if it was the warmth of the place, or the smell of delicious food wafting in from the kitchen, but it had the desired effect. She straightened as she weaved her way through the many tables and the waiter indicated her seat. It was set just like the rest, but it was placed with a clear view of the large windows that adorned the front of the restaurant, giving her a gorgeous view of the Paris streets.
The waiter pulled a seat out. “Please, madame, your partner is not here yet, but I am sure he will arrive soon. In the meantime, I will bring you a menu and something to drink.”
Marinette beamed at the service and took her seat graciously. “Just water for now please, and thank you, sir.”
“My pleasure,” he continued, nodding and backing away as Marinette settled herself into her chair.
This was nice. The general hum of the busy restaurant calmed her. It reminded her of home in a strange sense, but also, knowing that the guests were too busy to pay attention to one measly teenage girl was comforting. The waiter returned quickly and delivered the food menu and a tall glass of water with a smile. Thanking the waiter, Marinette turned her attention to her clutch bag. Inside was her phone, her house keys, lipstick, two packets of cookies, and of course, Tikki. Placing the clutch on her lap and opening the top ever so slightly, Marinette leaned down to speak with Tikki while pretending to read the menu.
“Are you okay Tikki?” Marinette whispered, her eyes glazing over the starters as she spoke.
“Uh huh… Yeah,” Tikki whispered back after an audible gulp. “I have my cookies, don’t worry about me. Just relax and enjoy the evening. Who is your mystery date?”
“I have no idea, they’re not here yet,” Marinette half-complained; she wanted to know who it was, but arriving after them would have been hell. At least this way, it would be a surprise. Smiling at Tikki, Marinette closed her clutch and placed it beside her chair; whatever was going to happen tonight was going to happen. Deciding on onion soup as her starter, Marinette put the menu down and took in the surrounding guests. She recognised a few of her classmates: Sabrina who appeared to be waiting for someone, as were Kim and Ivan. The sight of Juleka and Rose sitting together brought a smile to her face. At least one mystery date turned out right. Then she heard the bell go and a familiar voice introduced itself: Chloé Bourgeois. Marinette stifled a groan but couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Here she was, the queen bee, all ready to rig the mystery date just to get an hour with Adrien. She found herself getting angry at the thought and quickly shook her head. Come on Marinette, even Chloé can’t rig pulling names out of a hat… can she? From the corner of her eye Marinette spotted Chloé being escorted to a table in the far corner of the restaurant by another waiter. She was wearing a strapless, bright yellow bodycon dress with black heels. Marinette begrudgingly admitted to herself that Chloe could at least walk in heels.
“Madame, can I interest you in some wine?”
Marinette turned her eyes from Chloé and up to the waiter who stood before her table, a large bottle of wine in hand. Biting her lip and glancing at the two empty wine glasses on her table, Marinette nodded. “Please, sir.” As the wine was poured and the waiter walked away, Marinette took a quick sip of the deep set liquid. She needed something to settle her nerves and the warm, red liquid was exactly that.
Minutes passed by and Marinette sipped the wine a little more, wondering when her mystery date would show up. It couldn’t be much longer.
“Oh Adrien, I’m over here!” a voice suddenly shouted across the restaurant. Looking up in shock, Marinette saw Chloé waving to a tall, handsome, blond boy. Adrien. Marinette gulped as the waiter escorting Adrien walked closer to her, likely taking Adrien to Chloé. It wasn’t fair, Chloé always did this! Now they were by her table, and Adrien looked nervous, likely the result of Chloé’s loud, public outburst.
“Miss Bourgeois, please remain civil, we have many guests here and you’re disturbing them,” the waiter beside Adrien declared forcibly, looking directly at Chloé until she sat back down in her seat.
At least someone knows how to tell Chloé off, Marinette mused internally.
“I apologise, sir,” the waiter began, turning back to Adrien. “This is your seat. I will bring a menu to you immediately.”
Marinette glanced up as the waiter spoke. They were still so close; was Adrien sitting behind her? She hoped so. She was wrong. The waiter was indicating the seat in front of her! AT HER TABLE! ADRIEN WAS SITTING WITH HER!
Adrien nodded politely, “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry about the disturbance,” and sat down, but not before he removed his suit jacket and placed it on the back of the chair. Beneath his suit jacket, Adrien wore a well-fitted white shirt and black trousers, his shoes a deep maroon in colour and at his collar a simple bowtie.
“Good evening, Marinette,” Adrien began, a small smile on his face.
Marinette was internally screaming. Adrien was opposite her, Adrien was talking to her, ADRIEN WAS HER MYSTERY DATE! Was this a dream? Was she dead? Did she get hit by a car on the way over here? If this was a dream please let it never end.
Marinette took another quick sip of her wine and forced herself to respond to the most handsome man on the planet. “Evening, Adrien.” She could feel her cheeks going red from the mere act of talking to him… or maybe it was the wine?
“What are you drinking?” he continued, indicating Marinette’s glass.
Marinette side eyed the glass which was now missing about a third of its contents. “Well, it’s wine… red wine. I didn’t look at the brand,” she added worriedly. I bet I sound like an alcoholic! “I’m not exactly an expert on it, I don’t drink often,” she confessed.
“Neither do I,” Adrien shrugged with a smile, “but I think if there’s any time for wine, it’s tonight.” Following on his words, Adrien caught the attention of a nearby waiter. “Excuse me, sir, could I get a glass of the wine my lady is having?”
The waiter nodded, “Of course, sir,” and immediately departed in search of the wine.
Marinette bit her lip as Adrien turned back to her, his emerald gaze clashing with her own celestial one. “My lady?” she queried, her cheeks warm at the thought.
“Well, we are on a date. Aren’t we?” Adrien argued, smiling at her with something pure.
“Yeah… yeah I guess we are,” Marinette beamed. She was on a date with Adrien! How the hell was she going to talk to him!?
Marinette fiddled with her hair as the waiters brought out dessert. She couldn’t have told anyone what they exactly had for dinner. Adrien had suggested the Chef’s special and she had agreed. It had, of course, been delicious, but what exactly it was, she had no clue; she had been too preoccupied by her golden haired boy. All through dinner they had talked. It had been easy; Adrien was funny as well as polite, even if he did use a lot of puns. She didn’t know why it was so easy though. Adrien seemed relaxed–maybe he was relieved he wasn’t with Chloé? But she was just finding it so easy to talk to him.
As the waiter placed the dessert before them, Marinette couldn’t help but adore Adrien’s gorgeous emerald eyes–they sparkled brighter than any star to her. She smiled, her cheeks warm and glowing. Taking a final sip of her wine, Marinette put the empty glass down and grinned at Adrien, who was graciously accepting his own dessert. He just seemed so familiar; it was as if they had spoken like this a million times before. Even Adrien’s golden locks looked more familiar in this dim light.
“Are you okay Marinette?” Adrien queried. She seemed in a daydream state.
Marinette straightened suddenly. “Uh, yeah, yeah of course,” she lied. I was staring! Damn it Marinette!
“Well, my lady,” he smiled, in so familiar a fashion, “as long as you’re not going to dessert me?”
Marinette internally cursed herself for smiling. “No comment,” she began. Was he flirting with her? Was he like Chat? All puns? Well, at least she could handle that. She took a deep breath. “I was actually curious, Adrien. That suit of yours, it is your father’s brand right?”
Adrien nodded. “Yeah of course, I do rather like it,” he admitted.
“I thought so,” Marinette nodded. She could feel the wine warming her cheeks as she continued, “I saw it at your dad’s last show, although,” she looked directly at Adrien, “none of the models wore it as well as you do.”
Adrien could feel his cheeks flush at the compliment and his lips curve into a smile. He heard them a lot, granted. But there was something about Marinette–there was a glint in her eyes and a curve to her lips that sung of something so familiar to him, but he just couldn’t place it. But he loved it nevertheless.
“Well thank you, but it is you who is beautiful tonight, bugaboo,” Adrien countered with an instinctive, flirtatious wink.
Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her cheeks reddening at the oh-so-familiar flirtation. “Oh, come on Chat, how many times have I told you not to call me that,” she sighed jokingly before sitting straight. Oh no.
Adrien dropped his fork, the metal clanging against the plate. His gaze shot up and locked with a set of eyes with a familiar gleam. “My lady?” he all but whispered.