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In the wake of sunrise, Chat Noir escaped the suffocating confines of his room, extending his staff and landing with seasoned grace onto the ledge of the Eiffel Tower. He reveled the picturesque streaks of orange and pink painting the sky; it was a treasured view and Chat Noir’s safe place. Chat adjusted himself to a comfortable position, his back resting against the railing and knees tucked into his chest. He had arrived early enough that Paris’s infamous streets weren’t buzzing with sheer chaos and ear-piercing noise pollution. Adrien cherished the rare solitude. Time blurred into the background, his mind only present on the vibrant skyline.
An unexpected but welcomed blur of red and black diverted him from his trance, and Chat Noir stumbled in shock with the presence of the new visitor.
“I never took you to be the type to be up before noon on a Sunday.” Ladybug chuckled at Chat’s bewilderment and sat cross-legged next to him. “Why are you here so early?”
“I have an important event next week so I cam here to destress.” Chat let out an audible exhale. Important was an understatement. Potential sponsors, renowned designers, and pretty much half of the world would be tuning into Paris fashion week. And if Paris fashion week were a Christmas tree, the upcoming Gabriel Agreste Fashion show was the shining star on top. His heart drummed thunderously at the idea of disappointing his father, whose expectations loomed ominously like a thundercloud in his mind.
Ladybug pulled out a light pink box from her satchel and opened it, revealing a fresh batch of croissants. She glanced expectantly at Chat. “I think this might just cheer you up. They were all supposed to be for me, but since you’re here, I guess I can share them.”
“No thanks.” His gaze was traitorous as he glanced longingly at the croissant that she held in front of him like a toy. Ladybug stuck her tongue out, shaking her head. “Did you really just say no to a croissant? Are you sure you’re really Chat Noir and not an imposter?”
“Unfortunately, I’m on a diet. Otherwise I would have finished the entire box before you could even spell ‘croissant’.” She nodded her head knowingly, having witnessed his ravenous side when he’d managed to down a dozen croissants that she’d once brought from the bakery. Ladybug took a large, borderline theatrical bite of the croissant and shot him a teasing look.
“W-whuf kind of ahvent do you haff?” An awkward chuckle escaped his lips. If he told her the event was Gabriel Agreste’s spring fashion show, he might as well have handed her a silver platter engraved with ‘Adrien Agreste’.
Not that he was opposed to it.
“I’m planning a show for fashion week.” Adrien liked divulging details about his civilian life, not seeing the point in concealing their identities from each other. From observing Ladybug’s increased interest in Chat Noir behind the mask, he knew they were both in unspoken agreement.
“Fashion week, huh? I’ve seen enough documentaries to know how much effort goes into the coordination of even a small scale fashion show. Planning an event for fashion week sounds-- unimaginable. But I believe in you, Chat.” She placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, forming small circles with her thumb. Adrien eased into her touch and rested his head against her arm.
Wanting desperately to change the subject, he blurted, “So who are your favorite designers?“ He already knew the answer to this question, his own father being sourced as her main inspiration.
“Gabriel Agreste never fails to deliver— nothing new there. As of late, Vivienne Arquette has a solid spring line. She’s reinventing something as plain as florals like it’s no one’s business. Anyone who can make floral prints look different has my respect.” Chat shot Ladybug a small smile. Listening to her talk about fashion and watching her eyes light up as she listed her inspirations was music to his ears.
Plagg was right. He really did have it bad.
“Her current line is amazing. Though she had to redeem herself after the tragedy that was her winter collection.” He was definitely not hopeless in terms of fashion, but admittedly he was still miles behind Ladybug. A part of him felt guilty that he was the one organizing a show when Ladybug was the one with bigger potential and the unrivaled love for fashion. Given the opportunity, he would have handed her his position in less than a heartbeat.
“I didn’t know you’re involved in fashion, Chat. I always assumed you to be an ‘if I haven’t worn this shirt for more than three days in a row, it’s still usable’ kind of guy.” Ladybug said.
Adrien shook his head in humble disagreement. “You probably know way more than I do. I’m not a designer by any means, just a coordinator. You learn some stuff from being involved in the industry. If my job didn’t require it, I probably would be an ‘if I haven’t worn this shirt for more than three days in a row, it’s still usable’ kind of guy.”
Ladybug scoffed at the honesty of his confession and turned her head towards the city, the two heroes falling into a comfortable silence as they sat on the edge of the platform, legs dangling freely. They watched the true nature of Paris unfold, the evolving flood of cars seeping into the streets of Paris, and the faint but clear yells of merchants advertising their businesses.
Ladybug disrupted the silence and verbalized the thoughts that they knew lurked quietly in both of their heads. “I wish we could know each others’ identities behind the mask. Hell, it’s been four years since we’ve had any akuma attacks.”
“Even Master Fu said we could reveal ourselves. Honestly, what’s stopping us?” He watched the gears turn in her head as she tried to formulate a response, her eyes widening at the sudden revelation that there was no longer a reason to keep their identities a secret from each other.
“I guess you’re right. I’ve wanted this to happen for a while now, but I was just nervous about how things would be afterward.” Ladybug arose from the floor, wandering around the perimeter of the tower; Chat followed suit, swiping at the dust clinging to the leather uniform.
“I hope things won’t change between us. I’d like to have you in my life for as long as possible.” Chat mused.
“Yeah yeah— you’ve mentioned that a couple of times.” Ladybug rolled her eyes and chuckled, grabbing another croissant from the box. Her eyes flitted back and forth from Chat staring at the box to the croissant in her hand. After much contemplation, she put the croissant back, dusting off the stray flakes.
“I’d love to know the name of the woman behind the mask, my lady.” His mind raced in anticipation of the moment he’d been imagining since the day they had met.
The lightheartedness surrounding the atmosphere faded as she looked at Adrien with an intensity that made his heart race. With a newfound boldness, he gently took her hand in his and waited. Ladybug shifted her weight forward, leaning on Chat Noir’s chest.
“It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She said, head still nestled in his chest as she was unable to meet his gaze. Adrien’s eyes practically bulged out of their respective sockets, partly because he hadn’t expected her to give in so easily and partly because Ladybug was none other than his best friend.
How blind was he to not notice that Ladybug and Marinette were the same person? He’d spent countless hours with both of them— they both had the same captivating blue eyes and jet black hair. And beyond their appearance, both were courageous, intelligent and kindhearted, radiating with positivity and warmth. He was willing to bet Plagg already knew about this. That would explain the shit-eating grins thrown in his direction when he talked about Marinette.
“Well I’ve revealed myself. So who are you, Monsieur Noir?” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully.
Now that he knew her identity, he could tell her upfront who he was. Or he could, in typical Chat Noir style, have some fun with this.
Adrien never had a penchant for simplicity anyway.
“Actually, I want you to guess. You get 20 questions.” Adrien grinned, unable to conceal his exhilaration.
“That’s so unfair, I just told you who I was.” Ladybug whined, launching a croissant at his chest with great accuracy. The pastry met its unfortunate demise as it fell through the gap below the railing and plummeted from a 500-foot drop. Chat’s gaze followed the pastry in horror as if she’d flushed a million-dollar cash prize down the toilet. “Besides, there’s no way I can figure out your identity in twenty questions. Paris has like 3 million people; the odds of us knowing each other are next to nothing.”
“First, how dare you waste a gorgeous croissant like that. And second, I guarantee that you’ve heard of me.” He was sure of that at least. It would be difficult— maybe impossible— to not have encountered the Agreste name at some point. Especially when Gabriel Agreste was her favorite designer.
“How can you be so sure, huh?” She crossed her arms on her chest, curiously bubbling at his striking assertions.
“Let’s just say I’m more famous behind the mask. Not really my choice, though. I’d be at university for Physics halfway across the world if I could.” Ladybug blinked, visibly startled by his confession.
“You’re that famous? More famous than a black cat parading around in a leather suit and possessing the power of ultimate destruction?”
“That’s question one, and the answer is yes,” Adrien said, his voice unwavering.
“So you’re internationally known?” Ladybug asked.
“Yep.” Adrien popped the ‘p’ in response. “That’s question two.”
“Well, you said you’re working for a fashion show. Are you a CEO? Do you run a fashion brand?”
Adrien shook his head. “Question three. The answer is no, and I hopefully will never have to.”
“That was a dumb question, Mr. ‘if I haven’t worn this shirt for more than 3 days in a row, it’s still usable’. Let’s see— if you’re not a CEO and you’re not particularly interested in fashion but you still work in the industry— oh my god, are you a model?” Color tinted his pale cheeks, and Ladybug immediately knew the answer.
“Ding ding.” Adrien stopped verbally counting and raised his hands, indicating a ‘four’ with his left palm.
“That makes sense, actually. With the diet and the—“ Ladybug made a grandiose gesture to all of Adrien’s body from head to toe, not internalizing the implications of her actions.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.” His smugness was met with an elbow to stomach, eliciting a groan of pain from her victim. Ladybug flashed a scowl in return, shutting down his coy attempts to embarrass her. Chat flashed a ‘what was that for’ look in her direction and gingerly rubbed his stomach.
“Even if pains me endlessly to admit it, you are quite attractive. Not quite the match for the man I’m in love with, but quite a looker nonetheless.” She winced as the words escaped her lips, as if boosting Chat’s ego was a lethal sin.
“It really must have killed you to say that,” Adrien smirked at the confession. “And don’t think I’m not going to ask about this mystery man you’re in love with, Ladybug. I have to know more about my competition.”
Ladybug scoffed. “I think I’d rather tell you my own identity than his.”
“Well, I already know who you are. And why don’t you want to tell me?” Adrien asked, slightly offended.
“Because you’d laugh in my face if I told you. He’s insanely famous, just like you.” Insanely famous, huh? Now he was really fascinated.
“I would never judge you for who you fall in love with— even if that person isn’t me.” He said seriously.
Ladybug looked pensively at the ground as if trying to decide whether she should share more details.
She gave a small shrug. “His name is Adrien.” She paused, trying to segue out of the conversation. “Anyway, I’m still not done with my questions and I’m kind of dying to know who you are right now.”
Adrien completely ignored her desire to change to the conversation and yelped at her answer. “Wait wait— you’re in love with Adrien Agreste? The one on—” Disbelief evident, Adrien pointed to a distant billboard of him donning a maroon velvet suit. “That billboard?”
Confusion was the first emotion that arrived. For seven years, she had been rejecting him for him? How was Marinette going to react when she found out? She'd spent the past five minutes unknowingly confessing her love for Adrien as he was standing three feet away from her.
“You said you wouldn’t judge.” She let out an indignant groan, instantly regretting her decision. ”So, you do know him.”
Adrien raised his hands defensively. “No, I promise I’m not judging. I just know him very well.” She opened her mouth, about to ask for more details about their relationship before she promptly stopped herself.
“I’m not a crazy fangirl or anything. We’ve actually been close friends since high school. He’s always been a genuinely amazing guy, and I guess I fell pretty hard for him. I don’t think he knows it yet.” Adrien stood stunned for a silent moment, subsequently clearing his throat and attempted to collect his composure.
“Well, Marinette Dupain-Cheng—” Saying her full name freely left a sweet-like-honeysuckle taste on his tongue. “Maybe you should call Adrien and tell him how you feel.”
“Don’t be ridiculous— I’m never telling him. And why are you encouraging this of all things? Isn’t he your competition?” She emphasized ‘competition’, seemingly hoping to incite envious sentiments from Adrien and persuade him to side with her. Of course, convincing Adrien to feel jealous of himself would be a particularly difficult task for anyone, Ladybug included.
Adrien tried to shrug nonchalantly, though he was sure his ‘shrug’ resembled a cringe. “Let Adrien know what he’s been missing out on.”
“Even you’re pestering me now? W-well, what if he says yes? You’d just be ruining your chances!” She exclaimed, theatrically placing her arm on her chest. Her shoulders slumped when Adrien was visibly unfazed by her remarks and raised a skeptical eyebrow in return.
“Haha nice try, Ladybug. Really, your dedication to putting this off is truly astounding.” Adrien teased. He was probably risking being pushed off the Eiffel Tower when she found out his identity, but that was a problem for future Adrien. “Seriously, just call him!”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s an ulterior motive behind this?” Marinette sniffed.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re making excuses so you can put this off for another couple of years?” He dodged her accusations, earning himself an annoyed groan.
Marinette gave in when she couldn’t formulate a counter to his response. “All right, all right. I’ll do it just to get everyone— mostly my friend Alya— off my back. And if he rejects me which he probably will, I’m blaming you—“ She jabbed her finger at his chest. “For somehow convincing me to do this. She’s going to have a field day when I tell her.”
She huffed and turned away from him. “I’m not letting you witness my rejection.”
She hesitated for a moment before reaching for her phone and scrolling through her contacts with quivering fingers. Adrien craned his neck for a better view and immediately recognized her red and black striped case, which he’d only seen on Marinette’s phone. Her finger floated above the call button, and she threw a nervous glance over her shoulder to Adrien, who gave her a reassuring smile in return. Ladybug released a sharp exhale and pressed the call button, adjusting the phone to her ear. Naturally, Adrien’s phone rang shortly afterward. Ladybug turned to face him and raised her both her eyebrows, gesturing wildly to the phone and seemingly clueless about who exactly was on the other line. Adrien foraged for the phone in his bag and accepted the call, secretly smiling at the screen and not uttering any indication as to who was calling.
Shit he picked up, she mouthed, pointing to her screen.
“H-hello, Adrien?” Adrien locked his gaze with Marinette’s and brought the phone to his lips. Confusion transformed into clarity across her features when she heard the slight echoing voice on Chat’s phone. The voice that was unmistakably hers.
“Hey Marinette, I heard you wanted to tell me something?”
“Shit, y-you’re—“ Her eyes widened as they met his, though her moment of shock was interrupted with another as the phone that was once in her hand plummeted towards the cement ground from 500 feet in the air. With heightened reflexes, she launched the yoyo attached to her waist and captured the falling object before its ultimate destruction. Panting, she flipped over the phone, and the duo both released sighs of relief at the lack of shattered glass.
“Sorry, I guess that was my fault.” He smiled sheepishly, eyes still lurking on the phone and searching for any damage.
“You almost owed me a new phone Ch—Adrien. Agreste. Adrien Agreste.” She said his name as if speaking a foreign language. “C-can we just delete everything that happened in the past 5 minutes?”
“Absolutely not.” He whispered huskily, slowly advancing towards Ladybug until their breaths mingled. He cupped her cheek and their eyes locked, time reaching a halt.
“What are the odds? She murmured, leaning forward until she closed the spaced between them and their lips grazed. Adrien pressed his lips gently against hers, gripping her waist with his free arm. After what felt like hours, they parted, eyes fluttering open.
“What are the odds?” He repeated, absolutely breathless.