Chapter Text
It’s certainly a case of Murphy’s Law. It’s certainly and expectedly his bad luck that had caused this.
Or rather he’d blame this entirely on that if Ladybug was anywhere in sight. Beyond all the chaos of screaming teenagers and a city reduced to canoodling, love struck citizens, there’s no sight of red and black.
There’d hardly been enough time to transform before the akuma, aptly named Lovestruck, had broken through the school’s decidedly poor security system. Chat Noir was left with little recourse but to fend him off and corral as many of his unaffected classmates as he could into a safe space.
He leaves Kim behind. It’s too late for the boy. He’s already sobbing into his hands and crying about his one sided love for Alix.
(She’s torn between amusement and something bordering on embarrassment as she runs out the door.)
“Hey, Lovestruck! Your type of love isn’t real! We don’t want it!” Someone shouts behind the screaming/swooning mass of students.
And then he sees her. Awkward, cute, stupidly brave Marinette trying to distract Lovestruck who flies above them on his gilded cloud.
He’s already lobbed a handful of that almost pretty rose gold dust. She tries to dodge, but the dust is everywhere and falls over her in a glittering shower of horror, and Chat is too late.
A resounding NOOOO echoes across the courtyard. Faster than he can move, Alya Cesaire is already in front of Marinette. Her trembling hands are covering Marinette’s eyes.
Alya gives Chat Noir a pleading look, and he jumps into action. He is surprised at how much bitterness and fear has latched onto his chest when the thought of poor, sweet Marinette falling for a random stranger crosses his mind.
It drives him faster. Drives him harder. Makes his baton spin until it seems like a solid flat circle heading towards Lovestruck. It’s fast enough to dissipate any dust thrown his way.
The akuma seems to know that this opponent is too fierce, and while Hawkmoth’s commands echo strongly in his hazy thoughts, the call of love tugs at him. Tells him that Paris is a city of love and lights and that there’s plenty more to spread.
He and his cloud disappear into the blue sky with a whirl of glitter.
Chat Noir grits his teeth and bites back a scream of frustration, his fingers shaking with repressed anger as dials Ladybug again.
There’s no answer, and before the terror can freeze him into stone, he decides to help everyone else.
The police that surround the area have luckily been kept sane and loveless inside their cruisers. They help him round up the lovestruck students and send home the ones not affected. (a huge part of which were students that were in relationships).
And there’s only one question left. Where is Ladybug?
—
Marinette, who seems to be the closest civilian friend Ladybug has, looks understandably frustrated. Alya has deftly tied a thin scarf around her friend’s head so that she can’t see and fall in love with someone.
Chat is exhausted and between the inquiries as to where so and so was and whether Adrien was safe or not, he feels stretched thin.
Not to mention, Lovestruck would return for his Miraculous.
And so he asks Marinette for help in finding Ladybug. His worry that she might be among those affected eats away at him…and to give himself credit…it’s mostly the worry that brings the bile to his throat, not jealousy.
“I’m sure…I’m so sorry, I’m sure she’d be here if she could. Something probably happened. I’m going to try and get home to contact her.” Marinette says, her voice cracking and a few tears of frustration dampening the red silk wrapped over her eyes.
Alya miserably pats her back, her glasses tucked into her shirt pocket so that she’s squinting at nothing in particular.
Chat Noir’s scowl softens, and he feels some of the tension leach away to be replaced with exhaustion.
He rubs his forehead in frustration, before answering.
“Hey… you don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault and I’m sure she has a good excuse…she’s never let m-…let us down before. We’ll just to have wait for her in a safe place.”
Alya perks up at that, her mouth twisting in a frown of discontent as she contemplates a course of action. Her arms are still wound protectively around Marinette as they sit on a bench in the empty courtyard.
“Can you please take Marinette home? I would if I could, but right now, I can’t see anything without my glasses and I’d rather keep it that way until the akuma is gone. I can’t protect her like this.” She says with a look of equal desperation, her frustration synergizing with Marinette’s as they both slump against each other in defeat.
(I can’t protect you like this either, Marinette thinks in response.)
“You can…you can hide in my room until Ladybug shows up.” Marinette offers him, her mind rapidly concocting a reasonable excuse for tonight when she would have to disappear for a few minutes and reappear as a blindfolded Ladybug.
Chat hesitates at first, looking at the tops of the buildings wistfully…as if any second Ladybug would appear to get them all out of this mess. But it’s wishful thinking, and for once he’s not leaping before thinking.
“Okay, Princess. I’ll take you home and we’ll make a game plan from there.”
And part of his tension is relieved when he sees Nino, without glasses, carefully feeling his way into the courtyard, eyes squinting so hard, they almost look completely shut.
“I’ll be fine then! It’ll be the blind leading the blind, but Nino and I can help each other get home.” Alya says decidedly, already dusting off her pants and standing up.
She gives Marinette a farewell hug, pats Chat Noir on the shoulder…or rather she means to, but she just ends up awkwardly slapping the side of his head and then she’s making her way towards a stumbling Nino.
Marinette looks a bit panic stricken, with her brows furrowed and her mouth working to say something.
Chat Noir patiently waits for her to speak as he hoists her up and drapes her arm over his shoulder, so that he can guide her over the overturned waste baskets and emptied backpacks.
“Is…where is Adrien? Is he okay?” she blurts out, her mouth set into a grimace.
It’s the sixth time he’s heard the question today. But for some reason, it doesn’t give him that same prickle of annoyance. Not that her inquiry had been any different than the others, but there’s something about it coupled with her vulnerability right now.
She’s asking about him even as she’s struggling to walk, even as she’s blinded for the moment.
And once again, there’s that soft inkling of comfort that sets his heart fluttering when he contemplates their burgeoning friendship.
“He’s fine. I saw him get away into his chauffeur’s car during the evacuation.” He lies a little guiltily, as he leads her through a main street.
It’s uncharacteristically empty, most of the citizens already safely ensconced into their homes or offices.
He’s careful, constantly looking over their heads and tucking her into corners so that they’re not easily spotted in the dimming daylight.
There’s one breathless moment. One stupidly wasteful moment where a trashcan had clattered and he’d panicked.He’d whirled her into the alcove of an older building, a little archway decorated with a giant planter.
Hardly any space for the two of them, hardly enough space between the two of them. His chest pressed against hers, his arms vice like and strained around her taut shoulders.
She smells of peonies, some of her hair drifts up to tickle his nose. But he can’t be distracted.
There’s a strength to her that any other day would have made him grin in appreciation. She accepts his help with a graciousness that’s laced with indignation.
But right now, their nerves are strung too high. There’s a dependency she’s not used to. And here he is, earnestly trying to get her home.
There’s many things she loves about her cat, and while they’re not enough to make her fall in love, they’re enough to make her love him.
She looks up at him, first in anxiousness and then, her expression softens into a tender smile.
When he finally relaxes and realizes the noise had come from a pouncing alley cat, she thanks him.
“It’s uh…it’s my duty as a hero…but also, I really like saving pretty princesses. It’s like in the old fairytales my mom used to…” He trails off, and although she can’t see anything beyond the sliver of light at the edge of the scarf, she senses the strain in his form, the hurt that seems to pervade him.
“Umm…never mind. I’m saying stupid things again.” He finally says, and she looks like she wants to say more, but he’s relieved when she doesn’t.
They finally make it to the bakery. The delicate glass doors are nearly shattered with the force of the Dupain-Cheng’s worry as they burst out to pull both Marinette and him inside the safety of their home.
Mdme Dupain-Cheng is smoothing down her daughter’s hair, nearly tearful as she traces the folds of the silk scarf still wound around Marinette’s head.
He feels a little awkward. A lot out of place.
But then he’s whirled into a brief dance of embraces and grateful thank you’s. He’s plied with food and baked goods, and he’s reminded sharply that he had forgotten to eat breakfast and now it was almost 6 pm.
The akuma is still at large. Ladybug is still missing. The chaos of the outside world blares from the television and while guilt eats away at him as fast as he eats away at the grilled beef, practicality wins out as Marinette echoes his reasoning.
They sit now in her bedroom, a pile of cookies and cafe au lait set on a tray on her worktable.
She’s nervously nibbling at the edges of a cookie. He’s already on his third.
He thanks the skies that she can’t see the mess he is right now. Hair messy and eyes wide and scared. Crumbs trailing down his pretty suit as they contemplate what to do next.
“I just…this is terrible…but you can’t fix them by yourself. It’s too much. I’m so sorry. I promise we’ll find her soon.” Marinette tells him with a mystifying certainty.
He can’t see her eyes beyond the red silk, but he’s sure their burning with that familiar quiet strength of hers.
He wants to ask her how she knows for sure, but she’s already rambling off into a tangent about how the akuma’s powers work. Her worry making her tongue loose in a way that’s so typically her, it makes his anxiety well up into a nervous chuckle.
She breaks off, listing her head in his direction, trying to get a better grasp of the noise he’s making.
“Are you…are you seriously laughing right now? This is a serious situation.” She chides.
“It is…it’s just…god, I’m so worried about her and I’m stuck in here and you’re blind for now and Alya and Nino had to take off their glasses to protect themselves and this situation is entirely ridiculous.” He threads his hands worried through his hair, and she can hear her divan creak as he tries to stretch out his agitation.
She snorts, a little self deprecatingly as she fiddles with the edge of her pink shirt.
“You’re not…wrong. I’m sorry I’m such a burden…you should’ve just…I mean you could have just tried to find her without me dragging you here.” She says quietly, and he worries that he’s hurt her.
She seems to make herself so much smaller next to him, drawing her knees up to her chest as she leans her head back against the wall. Her hair color shifts in the light, and it looks almost blue in the soft lighting of her room.
His words almost catch in his throat at the familiarity she prompts from him. But he hates seeing her defeated like this.
“You’re not a burden. You’re just a person who got caught up in the trouble and you happen to be the one that Ladybug trusts the most.” He ventures and he flinches when it’s her turn to laugh.
“You’ve got it all wrong. She doesn’t trust me at all. She relies on you entirely, you know that? She really…she really does care about you.”
He’s entirely surprised by the admission. He takes her bitterness for jealousy that he’s closer to Ladybug than she is.
(But that’s not it at all…she simply trusts him so much more than she trusts herself sometimes.)
The silence almost stretches to discomfort, and he tries to fall back on humor to break the tension.
“I’m guessing you’re not at all tempted to take off that scarf and fall for me?” He jokes. The lifting syllable at the end of his question tells her it’s a joke.
“You’re not the person I want to fall for.” Her mouth twists into a puckered expression of distaste, something torn between a smile and a feigned grimace.
It’s just a joke.
“Awww, you’re blushing! Maybe I do have a chance!” He crows.
Its just a joke. And somehow it still manages to cause her heart to batter against her throat, and she hides it behind a quick jab at his shoulder.
But unfortunately, Murphy’s Law is still in effect.
See there was a time where Marinette had posters of Adrien tacked all over her wall…and one of those nails was still left behind during her attempt to remove all evidence of her minor crush.
The nail that caught onto the back of scarf. The nail that pulled it away from her eyes as she surged forward to playfully punch Chat Noir.
And for some terrifying, heart racing reason, she can’t close her eyes.
She can’t because he’s simply too beautiful, his wide, unnatural green eyes shimmering underneath the light. Surprise coloring them the same green as sour grapes and leaves in spring.
Then it strikes her…and it strikes him what’s just happened.
She screams and he caterwauls. She’s already put her face in her hands by the time he’s shouted for her to look away.
In his haste, he’s fallen off the divan and is sprawled painfully on the floor.
There’s quiet. A sudden expectation and almost melancholy (but maybe just the tiniest bit glad) acceptance that the person she’s fallen for is Chat Noir.
Yet, there’s no heart racing. No love declarations or sudden outbursts of singing.
She’s still Marinette…embarrassed and scared and hiding.
Confusion…and then silence.
Chat Noir remembers then. Ivan and Mylene, already dusted and clinging onto each other…but they’d looked terrified, not lovey dovey. Ivan had been comforting her.
And more students escaping, a few couples seeming just fine.
It dawns on him that Lovestruck couldn’t make you fall in love with someone you already were in love with.
It makes no sense at all…no sense unless Marinette was hiding feelings for him…him as Chat Noir.
The question is out before he even has time to bite his tongue. He looks at her, practically defeated and curling up against the wall as she hides her face.
“Marinette…do you…do you have feelings for me?”
She snaps up at that, cheeks burning and her beautiful eyes…like bluebells…aflame with indignation.
“NO! I….I love Adrien!”
Again, the words are out before she even has a chance to think. She claps her hands over her mouth, eyes so wide, they swallow the rest of her face up in terror.
Her plan unravels, and beyond the immediacy of her confession, there’s a feeling of relief that accompanies the mortification.
She’s free for now, in spite of all her questions…in spite of the fact that she might be in love with Chat Noir…
But she’ll have to set that aside until the akuma is dealt with.
“I need some…I need some air. Alone.” She says.
Before he has a chance to process her words, before he’s even had a chance to say anything, she’s bolted.
Up the stairs to the roof of her home, and he can’t move…there’s something like ice crawling up his legs…burning and welcome all at the same time because her words keep resounding.
And when he finally has a chance to move, to say something, he’s following her as fast as he can…but he only manages to catch the red flare of magic. The sweet smell of peonies and luck as Ladybug leaps out into the scintillating city with blazing determination.