Chapter Text
Adrien can’t believe it.
His chest swirls with emotions as he hides in the shadow of a tall building as Chat Noir, on the roof of another, and watches.
It's been hours, but Marinette is only just making her way home.
She looks very pretty, he will admit, in that little blue dress, with her hair up in a neat bun, with some slightly bolder makeup than the kind she wears every day. Marinette is almost as beautiful as his Lady some days.
She also looks utterly miserable, and it’s his fault, and he knows it.
He stood her up.
He didn’t know he was standing her up, but he stood her up.
Chat Noir doesn’t move until Marinette reaches the end of another street and turns the corner.
As he runs across the dusk-kissed rooftops and leaps over the street to follow her, Adrien wrestles with his thoughts.
On the one hand, he feels terrible for not showing up. Marinette is so kind and smart and brave, and he cannot believe he’s hurt her like this.
On the other… he can’t in earnest say that he would have liked to go. Marinette sure is lovely, but he doesn’t like her that way.
He wonders if he’s going to have to turn her down, like Chat Noir had to.
Adrien doesn’t want to break her heart again.
He watches as she keeps walking, and trips on the sidewalk. He almost goes to her aid, then realises he shouldn’t.
Marinette sits up slowly, takes off her shoes, stands up and keeps walking.
She looks on the verge of tears.
It’s at this moment that he realises he’s already broken her heart again, and that things will never be the same between them.
He can imagine it now; the empty gazes she will give him in class, the short words, the half-efforts.
She’ll hate him, and it’ll be all his fault.
Adrien can’t stand it anymore, and runs, feeling awful.
===
Marinette is trying very hard not to cry.
She knew this was pointless. She knew it was, but she did it anyway.
Adrien was already too far out of her grasp, and now it was evident that he didn’t even care enough about her to bother trying.
It had been the nail in the coffin for her feelings for him.
She looks up the street to see where the next turn is.
The city looks pretty at sunset, but not pretty enough to cheer her up.
The sound of a motorbike - slightly familiar, possibly the same kind her grandmother rides - approaches from up the road.
It pulls up beside her, and she looks at it out of the corner of her eye, wary.
She recognizes the Kitty Section logo on the side, and stops in her tracks as the engine cuts out.
“Hey, angel.” a soft voice beckons.
Marinette turns completely. Luka sits atop the motorbike with his helmet off, wearing a gentle expression.
“I heard what happened,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Marinette mumbles, and sniffs.
“No, but, you’re hurt, and someone should acknowledge that.” Luka tells her.
She blinks, touched, and tries to swallow the threatening tears.
“Aw, angel,” he gets off the bike and reaches out to her. “C'mere.”
She practically runs into the hug, too thankful to even care about looking desperate, and he holds her tight.
“I can’t believe he did this to you.” Luka mumbles. “I’m gonna deck him.”
“No, don’t,” Marinette sniffs. “I’m not worth the trouble.”
“You’re worth the whole world,” he corrects pointedly, and she looks up at him in surprise.
A welled tear escapes her eye and falls down her cheek unnoticed. Luka brushes it away gently with a knuckle.
“You’re beautiful,” Luka tells her softly, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You’re kind, and smart, and creative, and you deserve better than to be stood up.”
Marinette sniffs again and blushes, speechless.
He just smiles kindly at her.
“You want a lift?” he nods in the direction of the bike.
She can only blink and nod.
“Put this on,” he hands her the helmet.
Marinette takes her bun out and puts the slightly oversized helmet on her head.
Luka’s already on the bike, so she takes her seat behind him.
“Hold on, angel.” he tells her softly.
She wraps her arms around him and hugs his back as he starts the engine, and they ride off toward her house in the quickly dying light.
===
Adrien couldn’t make it all the way to the mansion. He stopped at the bakery, and waited on the balcony.
He has no idea why he’s there, or what he’s going to do or say when Marinette gets home, but he can’t bring himself to move.
He waits, restless and on edge, for who knows how long.
A motorbike approaches from down the street. It has two passengers and stops outside the building.
A little sigh of relief slips from his mouth at the fact that Marinette’s home safely.
She takes of the too-big helmet, and turns to the other rider.
“Thank you, Luka,” she says, quietly, but the words still float up to his sharp kitty ears above the noise of the engine.
“Of course, Ma-Ma-Marinette,” Luka replies, smiling. “Can I do anything else?”
Marinette takes a second to answer, but Adrien doesn’t know why. She hands back the helmet.
“Can… can I have another hug?” she asks, meek.
“As many as you like.” Luka holds out his arm immediately and she embraces him.
Adrien can feel the intimacy of the hug even from up here, and it makes his face warm.
Marinette pulls back just a little, and kisses Luka’s cheek. Something twinges in Adrien’s chest.
“Thank you…” she whispers.
“Anything for you, angel.” he replies. “If you want, you can come over tomorrow, see if we can’t cheer you up?”
“That sounds… really nice,” Marinette smiles.
“Go on inside.” Luka nods in the direction of the door. “Get some rest.”
“Yeah.” she lets go of him, and steps away from the bike. “Goodnight, Luka.”
“Night, Ma-Ma-Marinette,” he says, and puts on the helmet and rides off.
She pauses to giggle and sigh and hug herself and glance in the direction of the retreating motorcyclist with a bitten lip before walking into the building proper.
Adrien realises he was staring, and blinks.
Chat Noir moves on the balcony, away from the edge.
Part of him is relieved that Marinette is happy. He’s glad that she still has that pretty smile on her face, that that sweet giggle hasn’t died, that those blue eyes won’t lose their light.
Another knows that he was the one that threatened to take them away in the first place, and that makes his heart and gut wrench. The desire to be the one that put them back is not one he expected to surface, but it does.
He hears the trapdoor of Marinette’s room open and shut below, but he doesn’t process it.
He is frozen, struck with the realisation that Luka was the one that saved her brightness, and that he had no hand in it.
That Marinette will still hate him.
Adrien is wrought with dread, fear and guilt overtaking him.
“Chat Noir?” Marinette’s voice comes, confused, behind him.
Adrien turns around freakishly fast, and takes a look at her, her hair down, her makeup partially removed, in her pajamas, and is hit with a mixture of emotions with the force of one Stoneheart’s punches.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts, but he’s not sure if it’s a thought or a word he spoke aloud, because Marinette makes no reaction.
Panicking, he runs. He leaps away to the opposite building, and starts running, as if he can escape his pounding heart.
But he cannot.
It haunts him even as he tries (and fails) to sleep.
He’s fucked up. He fucked up, and Marinette hates him.
Marinette loved him, but he didn’t love her, but now she hates him.
And it’s over.