Archive of Our Own ^beta

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir © Thomas Astruc

“Hi,” a teenaged boy greeted as he opened the door with a smile. “What's up?”

“You're my dad,” Marinette blurted out, gesturing between the two of them. “I really, really fucked up. I'm not supposed to be here.”

He blinked.

“I'm eighteen,” she continued on, pushing her damp bangs away from her face. “I—well, I kind of did the soulmate spell?”

That was what made his shoulders relax. “Oh, maybe you really are my kid.”

It wasn't only the summer heat that was making her sweat.

“Come in,” he offered, holding open the door and motioning for her to come inside. “My parents are on a trip right now, so it's just me.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Great.”

The house didn't look anything like it did in the future. Then again, she'd only moved into the town the day before and seen the home for the first time.

The wallpaper was absolutely gaudy.

“It's not much,” he said, smiling wide. “It used to belong to my grandpa. Your... great-grandpa, I guess? No offence, kid, but you don't look anything like me.”

She decided against taking her shoes off when she saw how dirty the floor was. “Mom has strong genes.”

“Please, tell me it's Sabine,” he all but begged, opening the fridge and throwing a cold bottle of water to her. “I'm too scared to do the spell to see whether it's not her. We've been together for years.”

Did it matter if she told him?

“I don't know the rules of time-travel. I don't want to fuck anything up,” Marinette awkwardly replied, pressing the cold bottle against her face and sighing. “This feels nice.”

“You look a mess.”

She snorted. “Thanks, dad.”

“That's weird.” He pulled a face. “Call me Tom. I can't risk anyone else hearing you call me daddy. They might tell Sabine I'm cheating on her.”

Marinette choked on her laugh.

“What?” Tom asked, smiling widely. “I'm a cool dad, right? That means I tell jokes.”

“Not sexual jokes to your daughter,” she spluttered, the absurdness of the situation finally starting to hit. “Where's Mom?”

He snapped his fingers. “So it is Sabine!”

“I didn't say that.”

“You said Mom,” he pointed out. “She's out of town with her parents right now, too. She'll be back at the weekend, but—”

“She doesn't know,” Marinette interrupted, feeling so out of place in the dated kitchen that had seen better times. The tiles were dirty, the cupboards were chipped, and none of it was familiar. “Mom doesn't find out until I'm born.”

He winced. “Really?”

“Yeah... I kind of, well, made my toys float in the crib.”

Tom clapped his hands. “That's amazing!”

“She didn't think so,” she muttered.

Her father was a broad-shouldered man that always had his hair short, moustache trimmed neatly, and took care in his appetite and appearance. He often told her the pros of keeping healthy and going to the gym, though it seemed that obsession hadn't hit him yet.

For one, his hair was long enough to tuck behind his ears and he had a short ponytail at the back.

“Kid, if you're that talented, how did you mess up the spell?” he questioned, stretching his arms out and showing his lack of muscles underneath his oversized clothes. “It's super simple, yeah?”

Her face felt warm. “You haven't even done it!”

“But I've looked at it,” Tom replied, amused. “You're supposed to get a vision of who your soulmate is, not travel through time. How many years have you come back, by the way?”

She stubbornly shook her head. “I'm not telling you anything.”

“That's okay,” he said with a dreamy sigh. “I marry Sabine. That's enough.”

“I've fucked this up so bad,” she lamented, turning around and pressing her face into the wall. It felt horrible. “Why is this place so messy?”

“Oh, my parents are barely ever here,” Tom replied. “I only clean what I have to, you know?”

She turned to look at him incredulously. “Use a spell?”

“Listen here, miss make-your-toys-float,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “It's healthy to accept that you can't do everything.”

“But you're good at it!” she exclaimed.

“Am I?” he questioned, smiling wide. “I get better? That's a relief.”

Suspicious, Marinette asked, “What do you mean a relief?”

“I'm really bad at magic.” Tom flashed her a peace sign. “Maybe it's all in my balls to produce you.”

She pulled a face. “That's disgusting.”

“Hey, I'm trying to be cool—”

“Stop making sexual jokes!” Marinette yelled, going as far as to stomp her foot. “You're my nice and innocent dad! You're, like, a cinnamon roll. You never do anything wrong.”

He tapped his chin, thoughtful. “Are you sure you've got the right guy? I can't be that boring.”

“Tom Dupain!” she shouting, pointing at him. “I know you wet the bed when you were twelve at a friend's house!”

Wide-eyed, he clapped. “I told my daughter that?”

“Yes,” she told him proudly. “You distracted me and stole the last piece of cake.”

“I thought I was innocent and something cinnamon,” he remarked, amused.

“You didn't want to be told off by Mom,” she explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Can you call your parents and tell them to come back?”

“I can try the hotel, but I doubt it'll go through,” he said, scratching his cheek. “It'll be better to wait for them to come back. The office is locked and neither of us will be able to undo the spell to try and send you back.”

Her brow furrowed. “Hotel?”

Tom blinked. “Yeah?”

It hit her then that she was in the past, long before her birth. Technology was different, some of the hits on the radio were still replayed so she knew the words to them, and he had a landline phone in his home that he had to turn a specific amount to select different numbers.

It wasn't wireless.

Marinette stared at it, baffled.

“It's old,” Tom mused, twisting the cord around his finger. It was stretched out and no longer coiled from him doing that repeatedly. “But it does the job. I'm not blowing my allowance to get it upgraded.”

Marinette bluntly told him, “Your parents are shit.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I know.”

“You're a kid,” she continued, gesturing to their dirty surroundings where she could see stains on the walls where he'd spilled drinks over the years. “And they—they leave you here?”

Tom shifted on the spot. “Thanks for being concerned for me, I guess.”

She mumbled, “I see why I never met them.”

“Never?” he questioned, leaning in.

She didn't get her height from him.

Tom towered above her, though he was less intimidating when he skinny and looked like a strong wind would blow him over.

“No,” she confirmed, glaring down at the sticky floor. “And I don't blame you. If I change the timeline or some shit, you better not let any other of your kids meet them.”

“You swear a lot,” he remarked. “Did you pick that up from me?”

Marinette asked, “Is that what we're focusing on?”

“Well, as nice as it would be to talk shit about my family, I've already got Sabine planning out their murders,” he told her with smile that reached his blue eyes. “Want to join her? It could be some premature family bonding time.”

“No, she'll think we're mad,” she shot down.

Tom paused before bursting out with, “Let's say you're my cousin!”

“You've already said we look nothing alike,” Marinette pointed out.

“Adopted,” he replied without skipping a beat. “You need a cover story to stay here, right? You can sleep in the spare room.”

“You're rich enough to have a spare room but not a maid?” she muttered.

“You're good at spells,” Tom said, leaning in with a smile. “I'll pay you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him childishly.

-x-

Tom complained a lot.

Marinette used her magic to splash him with water when he wasn't cleaning fast enough.

They came to the compromise that they'd split cleaning the house after Marinette had been horrified at the state of the rest of it. He agreed to clean the single bathroom, while Marinette was walking around and fixing the rest with ease.

For someone that had been so talented and taught her everything she knew, she wondered why he was so hopeless at eighteen.

“No tutors?” Marinette questioned.

“I had a nanny?”

“...A magical nanny?” she asked slowly.

“No, but her fingers were pretty magical when she tucked me into bed,” he mused. And when he saw the disgusted look she was giving him, Tom quickly said, “I was a kid! You're the one with your mind in the gutter this time!”

She pretended to shudder. “It's because of you.”

“I was around for you growing up, right?” he asked, focusing on scrubbing the toilet instead of letting her see what expression he was making.

“You've never been on a single business trip,” she informed him.

“Cool.” It was easy to tell the happiness in his voice, even though it seemed higher-pitched than what she was used to. “You had a magic tutor, right? You're miles ahead of me.”

She scuffed her shoe against the floor. “You're my tutor.”

“I am?” he exclaimed loudly, whirling his head around. Then, he tried to hide his smile and coughed to clear his throat. “I mean, cool. Yeah. That's great.”

The house looked better. It was outdated in the current time, wallpaper loud and bright, furniture scratched, and there was a damp smell that she couldn't quite pinpoint where it was coming from.

Tom said he was too tired to go to the store with her.

“That's fine,” she said, fetching her wallet from her pocket. “I've got cash.”

He laughed. “Yeah, but can you use it?”

Other than a single coin, the dates were from the future.

“...Fuck.”

He wasn't the protective father that didn't want her wandering around at night, but that didn't mean he wasn't concerned. Tom asked her five times—at least—whether she was sure that she wanted to go out.

“It's fine,” Marinette told him, checking the clock on the side for the time before realising that the battery had long since died. She got her phone out instead, turning it off after confirming it was early in the afternoon still. “I need to buy some stuff if I'm going to stay here.”

“I can go with you—”

She held a hand up to stop him. “I draw the line at buying underwear with you.”

Tom happily handed her over the money.

It had only been a few hours since she'd arrived, yet it felt like so much more. Marinette barely had anything to her name—her wallet and phone that she'd left inside his home for safekeeping—and she wasn't sure how badly her clothes were going to stand out compared to everyone else.

She retied her ponytail higher in an attempt to stop sweating so much.

The town was small.

She wondered whether the skate park would be there in the future.

Tom had given her basic instructions to the main shopping centre. He told her that it would be hard to miss, and that other than that, there were only a few convenience stores and random stores scattered around.

He'd assured her that he had enough money to afford a few outfits for her.

His parents weren't due to be back until the end of the month.

Thankfully, it was summer. Tom would be home the entire time to keep her company and guide her in the strange time until his parents returned, though there was the problem of Sabine coming home that weekend.

It would be odd to bring a cousin along as a third wheel all of the time.

She hadn't realised that the shopping centre was still outside. Marinette had expectations for it to be inside and air-conditioned, then her thoughts went on a tangent to wonder whether it was too early for that to be implemented everywhere—

She'd never researched much into the nineties, other than what her parents told her.

The first stop was to a supermarket to loiter in the refrigerated section for a while before buying a drink and holding it against her face.

Then, she searched charity shops first to see whether she liked the feel of any of the clothing. Other than technology being behind—and shop names that she'd never seen before—it didn't feel like she was completely in a different era. At least there were cars instead of horse-drawn carriages.

“Stupid,” she muttered, so embarrassed that she'd messed up such a simple spell.

She hadn't even seen an image of her soulmate; instead, she'd blinked and appeared in the garden, creeping out to the front door as she smothered down her panic.

Marinette held her purchases against her chest, hugging them securely.

Someone bumped into her.

She didn't drop everything, surprisingly.

The guy started to say, “Sorry, I—”

Then, he'd abruptly stopped, staring at her with wide eyes.

Marinette looked at him strangely. “What?”

“You're—” And with a choked sort of noise, he cleared his throat before offering a hand out to her. “Hi.”

Her hands were full. “Hi?”

“Right.” He dropped his hand back down to his side, shifting awkwardly on the spot before he took a large step away. “Are you—you're new here, right?”

There wasn't anything appealing about a random teenage boy talking to her, let alone one that would be the same age as her parents when she returned.

With that thought, any attempt at making friends for the summer was ruined. How awkward would it be to return to her time and realise how they'd grown up? To know who they'd ended up with—

“I'm not supposed to talk to strangers,” Marinette blurted, abruptly turning on her heel and walking away.

“Wait!” he called out.

She walked faster.

Tom thought it was funny.

“You're supposed to be my dad!” she spluttered, offended. “You should be telling me to kick anyone suspicious in the nuts, not laughing at his bravery!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender. “The whole maternal thing hasn't kicked in yet.”

She grumbled, “You're not my mother.”

“I'm your only family right now,” Tom replied, patting the sofa beside him, trying to usher her closer. “Show me what you bought! Other than the underwear, yeah? I wanna see what your taste is like.”

It was a little awkward.

Tom was trying to make everything okay by being overly friendly, laughing loudly at her muttered comments, and happily telling her about his life instead of prying further into hers.

It was so strange to see him wrinkle-free, to see how he could put on a smile when he was left alone in a large house, and every off-handed remark about his parents only made her realise why she'd never learned more about them growing up.

All she knew was that she got magic from them, that was it.

Then, when they'd died, they'd inherited the house.

It shouldn't have had any happy memories for him.

She asked, “Does Sabine stay over here all the time?”

Tom winked.

Marinette winced. “I shouldn't have asked.”

“It's like a honeymoon phase all the time because we're alone,” he happily said, clasping his hands together. “And to think I'm going to marry her—”

“Calm down,” she interrupted. “I really don't want to hear about your love-life.”

His smile showed his teeth. “Because you've already heard it, right?”

“Eh, bits,” Marinette dismissed. “The important parts—like how you met because she hit you with a football.”

He clapped. “That is important.”

-x-

Tom was so excited to see Sabine that he dragged her along to their meeting spot.

He was too embarrassed to have Sabine stay over while she was there.

“The walls are thin,” he hissed, face turning red.

It was really too much information.

“But the house is clean,” she countered, kneeling down and gesturing to where she'd wiped even the skirting boards. “This will make her swoon if she's used to you being a slob.”

“It was a practical decision,” he lamely replied.

Marinette hummed. “You get really anal about being clean in the future.”

“I have high standards now,” Tom proclaimed. “I know my daughter's going to be amazing. I have to reach this level to teach you.”

She clapped.

Their destination was a diner.

Marinette was horrified to learn that Tom hadn't said that she was coming.

“I thought she knew,” she whispered loudly.

“It's fine,” he replied with a laugh. “I said I have a surprise—it's you. You're the surprise.”

She reminded him, “Mom hates surprises.”

“Does she?” he questioned, thoughtful. “Strange.”

His grand plan was her to sit beside him at the booth so they'd look more like a family. Regardless that they looked nothing alike, let alone that Marinette wasn't known by anyone. Tom had been greeted by a few people when they'd walked inside, including an employee that looked to be the same age.

“We look more like a couple with me here,” she complained, sitting as far away from him as possible.

“But if you're across from me, it'll look like we're playing footsie,” he replied. “This is the best option.”

“Dad,” she started, horrified. “You're so dumb.”

He winked. “That's my charm, don't you think?”

Marinette shook her head.

“Meiyun,” he called, poking her.

She sighed. “What?”

“Want a milkshake?” Tom offered.

“Shouldn't we wait for Mom first?” she questioned. “Otherwise it'll really look like a date.”

“Fine,” he lamented, leaning forward and pressing his cheek against the table. “I'll starve until then.”

She was starting to see why she was so dramatic.

“It's weird you calling me that name,” she murmured. “It's usually just Mom.”

“It's cute!” Tom countered, smile half-squished from the table. “It's easier to be called this than a complete other name, right? And Meiyun's adorable.”

She waggled a finger at him. “Stop calling me cute.”

“In a purely platonic way,” he defended, balling up a napkin and throwing it at her. “Respect your elders.”

“You're, like, two months older than me right now,” she pointed out.

He sat up and shrugged.

“Meiyun's too obvious,” Marinette said, adjusting her ponytail. “I'm your cousin, Mei.”

“My cousin Mei who's two months younger,” Tom confirmed, giving her a thumbs up. “Adorable. You're so small and squishable. Sabine's going to love you.”

Sabine came late.

And when she arrived, Marinette couldn't take her eyes off of her.

Sabine spotted her boyfriend first, happily raising a hand to wave before running over and slipping into the other booth seat without complaint.

“You're so pretty,” Marinette blurted, completely ruining her first impression.

Sabine smiled, a little confused. “Thank you?”

“This is Mei,” Tom announced, placing a proud hand on her shoulder. “My cousin. She's come to stay for a while because she was worried about me being all alone.”

“Really?” Sabine questioned, smile more genuine and reaching her eyes. “That's so kind! He's a disaster at being responsible. I have to remind him to do his washing every week.”

All Marinette could dumbly say was, “I made him clean.”

“Mei,” Sabine started, reaching across and taking her hands into hers. “You're a miracle.”

Tom was right.

Sabine loved her.

It turned out that her mother could talk. All those times they'd gone out to a café for cake paled in comparison to her teenage self prattling on about anything and everything. Within the timespan of dinner, Marinette was caught up-to-date on almost all the gossip for the town, including what scandals had happened lately.

One of their old class-mates was pregnant.

It wasn't her boyfriend's.

Tom was the one to tell her that bit of information.

He was as bad as his girlfriend.

And when they spoke together, happily chipping in and explaining a story with each other's input, it was clear that they were a good match. Marinette had always seen that her parents were in love—even when she was a bit grossed out by it when she was younger—yet that didn't compare when she saw their young faces and gooey looks they kept sending across the table.

While the two of them squabbled about who would pay, Marinette excused herself to the toilet.

It was on the way out that she recognised the guy from the shopping centre.

He was holding a menu up and covering his face, looking ridiculous.

She tried not to laugh.

And after she walked past him, Marinette looked over her shoulder to see whether he'd stopped being suspicious.

He was staring at her.

The guy gawked, quickly turning back around and shoving his face into the menu again.

“What a weirdo,” she muttered.

And when she returned to her parents bickering still, Sabine was the one sat facing where she'd come from.

“Mei?” Sabine called, frowning. “There's some guy staring at you.”

She breathed out loudly. “Still?”

“Oh, he's stopped now,” Sabine said, leaning to side to see the other table easier. “I think he's trying to hide? He's sliding down in his seat. I can't see his head any more.”

Marinette almost laughed. “It's fine, he's some weirdo I met before.”

“Mei,” Tom started, turning to face her and putting his hands on her shoulders. “Do you need me to beat someone up? I can totally do that.”

She really did laugh at that. “With these stick arms?”

“I may look like this, but I'm very good at blowing stuff up—”

“No more fireworks!” Sabine interrupted. “You're banned. You burnt your hair off last time.”

Tom touched his hair. “But it's grown back so nicely?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Babe—”

-x-

While it was nice seeing her parents so young and energetic, it grew awkward quickly when they constantly flirted with each other. Sabine liked to touch his arm when they spoke, leaning in and getting in his personal space, and Tom wasn't any better, pressing kisses into her hair and all over her face as his girlfriend laughed and tried to push him away.

Marinette was absolutely the third wheel whenever they were together.

She hated to think how awkward it would've been if Tom hadn't believed her.

“It doesn't make sense,” Tom remarked, his shirt he wore for pyjamas too small and barely covering his navel. “When I fuck up spells, either it does nothing or sets on fire. You shouldn't have been sent through time.”

She'd forgotten to buy pyjamas.

Tom had gave her his, and she had to roll the waistband of the trousers until it stayed on. They weren't flattering, but it was a touching gesture.

He was ready and willing to share everything—including his date nights with Sabine.

Marinette rejected that.

“Fire?” she questioned, surprised. “I struggle with it getting the power behind it right. It's too much or too little with me.”

“I don't think you could too much it back in time,” he muttered. “What did the book say, exactly?”

She stared. “Can you recite a book you read once over a week ago?”

Tom clicked his tongue.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, giving him a light shove so he dramatically fell against the arm of the sofa. “You're not allowed to be disappointed! I'm amazing compared to you.”

He beamed. “That's because you came from me.”

“We're nothing alike.”

Tom snapped his fingers before pointing at her. “Sabine thinks we're both cute.”

Marinette laughed.

“It's locked in the office with all the other shit,” he said, sagging back against the sofa. “The soulmate spell, I mean. I never really... studied it before? I just know it exists and that you can use it at eighteen to see a vision of what they look like.”

“It's supposed to appear in your head,” she replied, tapping her temple. “Like you're daydreaming, yeah? But I blinked and I was suddenly here instead.”

“And it didn't come with you.”

“No,” she confirmed with a sigh. “Only what I actually had on me. The book was on the grass in front of me.”

“What a good little witch you are,” he told her, patting her head and laughing when she glared at him. “It's cool, don't worry. We'll hang out and my parents will fix it and call me a disappointment, as usual.”

It was more than she'd ever really heard of them. “Why?”

“Why?” he questioned.

“Why don't they like you?” Marinette continued, phrasing it bluntly. “They're neglecting you and you seem... fine with it.”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “I tried to do something about it as a kid but they used magic to alter people's memories. Like, if you asked any of the neighbours, they'll say they saw my parents this morning, leaving for work.”

She blinked.

“You get used to it,” Tom told her.

“What about Sabine?” she questioned, furrowing her brow. “Doesn't she—she knows you're alone, right? She's seeing through it.”

He beamed. “They've never met her.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “Okay, it only works with people they've met?”

“Yeah, it's not some long-lasting enchantment on the house,” Tom explained. “That would take up too much energy, you know? They need that to do stuff and—well, neglect me. Yeah.”

She clenched a fist. “I'm gonna fight them.”

Tom laughed loudly.

“I'm serious,” she said. “I'll get them to give me access to the office and, like, stomp on their feet or something. I can't spit on their graves back home because I have no idea where they're buried.”

Instead of discouraging her and telling her that it was a terrible idea—as any responsible parent would do—Tom grinned and offered, “We'll buy you some high heels to make it extra special.”

She gave him a thumbs up.

Tom tried to teach her to skateboard.

Marinette had told him that she'd never had a phase of wanting to ride one before. With the realisation that there wasn't much to do in a small town when the television channels were limited, internet took ages to connect to one page that looked so out of date Marinette thought it was a joke at first, it was time to turn to the outside world for entertainment.

Sabine had gone to see her friends for the day, coming over in the morning to apologise in person for not being able to make it.

So, the two of them went out into the street. Tom had his hair pulled back into a short ponytail again, the free strands behind his ear, and a hat on backwards in a way that she hadn't seen for ages. His clothes were too loose to fit properly, a stark contrast to his tight pyjamas that he refused to throw away.

“Tom,” she said, becoming more comfortable calling him his name. “You look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously cool,” he corrected with a wink. “Now, let's ride.”

“...Please, never say that again,” she requested.

He ignored her requests for a helmet before admitting, “I don't own any.”

“You can't even use magic properly!” Marinette threw her hands up in exasperation. “That's even more reason to buy some!”

“Eh, scars are sexy,” Tom responded.

She pulled a face. “Disgusting.”

“It's true,” he insisted, waggling his eyebrows. “You should ask Sabine—”

“We're family!” she yelled, snatching the skateboard from his hands. “You're lucky I can heal a bit. If I break a bone, I'm going to kill you.”

Tom dramatically cried, pretending to wipe a tear. “My baby's first death threat.”

She grumbled, “You're so annoying.”

And to embarrass her further, he cheered her on loudly and clapped whenever she managed to move an inch. She was unsteady and awful, yet he was treating it like she'd accomplished something amazing.

When he demonstrated his skills next, she understood.

“Oh, my.” Marinette clapped her hands. “You're terrible.”

Tom grinned from where he was sprawled on the floor.

They managed to make it to the bottom of the street before returning to outside his home and starting again. The flowers out front were as overgrown as in the garden, weeds sticking out of the grass, and it didn't look like a pleasant place to live.

In the future, it seemed like someone else had spruced it up.

Then again, that could be said for almost everywhere. A lot of things changed in twenty-eight years.

Marinette was sitting on the skateboard and scooting along when she saw something peeking out over a wooden fence.

She squinted. “What is that?”

And as she said that, it disappeared.

It was when it appeared again a few minutes later that she realised that it was someone's head of blond hair.

“Tom,” she called, gesturing him closer to whisper. “You getting any vibes that someone's watching us?”

He blinked. “Eh?”

She looked to the fence where the hair was suddenly gone.

“Might be a kid,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “I don't know my neighbours. And I never pay attention to who moves in—I mean, I know someone moved in down the street a couple of weeks ago, but that's it.”

Marinette asked, “Why do you only know one?”

“He gave me cookies,” Tom replied, a happy smile curling on his lips. “They were really good. I only let have Sabine have over half for once.”

“Would you normally give her less or—”

“More,” he clarified smugly. “She deserves everything.”

She nodded. “Except all those cookies.”

Tom beamed. “Exactly.”

“Where'd the new guy move in?” she questioned. “Tell me you actually thanked him for the cookies if you're still raving about them now.”

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, giving her an exasperated sigh. “How rude do you think I am? You're polite because I am.”

She pointed out, “You got excited that I threatened to kill you.”

Tom placed a hand on his chest. “It makes my heart flutter hearing you talk like me.”

Marinette grimaced.

When he pointed out the house, it was the one she'd seen someone peeking over the fence at.

She liked to think that she wasn't dumb.

Marinette was capable of defending herself with or without magic, had gained confidence over the years at talking to strangers over the phone, and liked to face her problems head on.

So, when Sabine came over for dinner that evening, Marinette said that she was going for a walk.

Of course, they both offered to come with her, going as far as to put their shoes back on—as the house was so clean it warranted taking their shoes off at the door now—and Marinette's solution to that was running away before they could catch up, shouting that she'd be back later.

It was so strange being in a time where she couldn't just search for memes on her phone to pass the time.

Lights were on in the house, so she went up to the door and knocked.

It was the guy from the mall and diner.

His expression promptly turned horrified and he slammed the door on her face.

Marinette kept pressing the doorbell.

He wasn't coming back.

Well, he was the weird one that kept looking at her and hiding after she'd ran away from him that one time. Him living in the neighbourhood explained why he'd noticed her arrival, at least.

She kept ringing.

And when that went ignored, Marinette used a spell to make it loud enough to hear from through the door.

It was her stubbornness that had her pausing for a moment before reaching out and trying the handle.

To her surprise, it was unlocked.

It opened about an inch before it was slammed shut.

“Hey!” she called out. “I know you're in there now.”

There was no further response.

So, she used a different tactic.

Marinette knew that she was being petty—she'd been the one to run away from him at the shopping centre in the first place—but it wasn't as though she had anything else to do with her time. She'd be gone by the end of the month, and she highly doubted she'd have some middle-aged neighbour that would curse her for looking like his old nemesis that used to annoy him back in the day.

Thus, she dragged Tom into the kitchen when they got home.

His cupboards were remarkably bare.

The store was the first stop before the kitchen, and Sabine joined them along the way. Marinette had said that she'd look up a recipe online real quick—earning raised eyebrows from the both—before she remembered how slow the dial-up was.

It was the next day when she placed a wrapped plate in Tom's hands and told him seriously, “I want you to march over there and thank him for his cookies last time.”

Tom nodded, as serious as her. “I understand.”

“You'll say you made these,” she said.

“I pounded the dough?”

“Kneaded,” Marinette corrected. “There was no pounding with me as the third wheel.”

He laughed. “Yeah, yeah.”

Determined, she instructed, “And when you give this to him, you're going to shove your foot in the door if he tries to shut it.”

“That's a little weird,” Tom said, tilting his head. “I'm supposed to be thanking him, not threatening.”

“Don't worry,” she replied with a smile. “It'll be fine.”

“...If I say I'm worried about you, am I criticising myself?” he questioned. “I raised you. Your faults are my faults.”

“Everything is your fault,” she said. “You're the one that left your child with an office full of magical books unsupervised. You deserve to suffer during my time here.”

He sighed dramatically. “I'm such a bad guy.”

“I'm sure Sabine's into that.” She patted his arm. “It's your time to shine, big guy. I'm going to hide in the bush and watch you.”

And as they went through the front door, he muttered, “Where did I go wrong with you?”

Marinette beamed.

When it wasn't her, the guy opened the door in seconds. He didn't look surprised or panicked; rather, he smiled brightly and struck up a conversation with Tom, everything about his body language open and friendly.

Tom got invited inside.

Marinette clenched a fist in victory.

Tom forgot to ask his name.

She buried her head in her hands. “You're as bad as me.”

And to that, Tom patted her head and asked, “You haven't got a crush on him, have you? He's a bit gloomy.”

“No!” she rejected loudly, lifting her head up to glare at him. “He kept looking at us when we were skateboarding.”

Tom blinked. “Maybe he wanted to join in.”

“He was peering over the fence,” she said. “And hiding whenever I spotted him.”

Dubious, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Sabine saw him staring at me at the diner,” she replied, a bit offended that she was being question. “And he's the weirdo I saw while shopping.”

“You're really noticing him a lot,” Tom remarked, amused and trying to hide his smile. “It's okay to admit that you like someone! I kept staring at Sabine for years before she noticed me.”

She made a frustrated noise. “You are impossible.”

“Or am I smart?” he countered, tilting his head. “If he really scared you, you would've done something to him by now—not sent me over with cookies.”

“I'm telling you I practically have a stalker and you're convinced I have a crush on him,” Marinette retorted, face starting to feel warm. “How does that even make sense?”

“Is this your first crush?” Tom questioned, thoughtful. “Is that why you're getting so embarrassed? I'm your dad, of course you don't want me to know about who you want to canoodle with.”

She yelled, “There will be no canoodling!”

Tom laughed loudly.

-x-

With Sabine coming round for dinner, Marinette was sent on a quest for groceries.

They'd flipped a coin to see who'd have to freshen up the house or go to the store. Marinette didn't try and hide her glee when Tom's expression crumbled at the result.

She took her time.

Along the way, she stopped into a convenience store to buy a slushy. The advertisement in the window had drawn her in. Her parents had only allowed her to have one when they went to the cinema together.

It was worth the brain freeze.

She paused outside the supermarket, slurping her drink before wincing, pressing a hand to her temples and closing her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

It didn't sound like it was addressed at her.

At least, that was until it was followed with, “Meiyun?”

Marinette opened her eyes, dumbfounded.

“You!” she exclaimed, accidentally dropping her drink in favour of pointing at him.

She gawked as it got all over her clothes, including the second-hand shoes that had been the only ones in her size.

“Oh, man,” she lamented, completely forgetting her trail of thought. “This is all new.”

“I-I'm sorry,” the guy stuttered out. “I just—”

She eyed him warily. “You're not stalking me, are you?”

“No!” he blurted, looking panicked. “Why would you think that?”

“You haven't got the best record so far,” she replied, shaking her leg and trying to get the drink off of her. It had already stained her clothing, though she wasn't sure if it would do the same to her skin. “I won't run away this time, I guess. What's up?”

He blinked. “What's... up?”

“Yes?” Marinette replied, a bit amused by his slow reaction. “You wanted to talk to me before, right?”

“You don't talk to strangers,” he pointed out, shifting on the spot before reaching up to touch the back of his neck.

She shrugged. “Tom knows you.”

“Oh,” was all he said.

“So...” Marinette trailed off. “What's your name?”

“Me?” he questioned, a bit too loud since he winced and averted his eyes. “You want to—to know my name?”

Maybe Tom was right about the guy feeling left out and wanted some friends. He seemed incredibly awkward, his body language backing that up as he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but in front of the store with her.

“I'm Mei,” she introduced, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He frowned. “Not Meiyun?”

She waved a hand. “Mei's easier.”

Instead of accepting that, he took a step back and asked, “Do you prefer Mei?”

“Eh, it's fine,” was her response.

He made a thoughtful noise.

And with that awkward interaction out of the way, Marinette picked up the plastic cup she'd been drinking from, grimacing from how sticky it felt, and deposited it into the bin nearby. There was no recycling section on it yet.

The guy was still standing there, watching her.

She suddenly noticed that his hands were empty.

“You didn't buy anything?” she asked.

He was startled. “What?”

“From the store,” she explained, gesturing to the doors they were nearby. “That's where you came out from, right?”

“I—yeah,” he stuttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I forgot my wallet.”

“Oh,” she said. His embarrassment could've been another reason for his awkwardness. “That sucks.”

He scuffed his shoe on the floor. “Yeah.”

It was getting increasingly awkward between them.

Marinette took a step away from him towards the store. “I'm going to... go now.”

“Okay,” he agreed, looking away and running a frustrated hand through his hair.

The theory that he was bad at interacting with people was getting stronger. Yet, she'd seen him greet Tom easily and offer him a smile that she had yet to see for herself. That meant—

“Oh,” she murmured, shoulders relaxing. “You need anything specific? I can grab it and give it to you on my way.”

He whipped his head around to look at her fast enough to make his hair move, surprise clear across his expression.

It was a little cute how bad he was at talking to women.

“We are neighbours,” Marinette patiently explained. “Unless it's something huge that I can't carry.”

“Milk,” he blurted.

“Cool.” She gave him a thumbs up. “Give me the money when I knock at your door, yeah?”

Still shocked, he nodded.

It was when she went into the store that she realised that she hadn't gotten his name in return.

And when she returned with her shopping bags in hand—bright-coloured stains on her clothes standing out and looking even worse dried—she found the exact change for the milk sitting on the doorstep.

Ringing the doorbell proved that it was still disconnected from her last time annoying him.

She felt a little guilty about that.

Sure, he was incredibly awkward about wanting to be included—but someone should've been there to teach him that staring at people wasn't something that was appreciated.

She left the milk on his doorstep along with the money.

-x-

Tom was supportive of her idea that their new mysterious neighbour had no experience with women.

They decided to test it out by sending Sabine over to his place to invite him over for dinner.

Tom had wanted to peer over the fence to see his reaction, so Marinette had to be the one to tell him that was creepy.

She didn't say that she'd done the same thing.

It was a little concerning how similar they were.

While Sabine was on her quest to befriend their awkward neighbour, Marinette was amusing Tom by making the lit wick on a candle dance and create patterns like she'd try to do with a sparkler normally.

“Did I teach you this?” he questioned, wide-eyed and enamoured with her casual display of magic.

“Secretly,” she confirmed with a grin. “Mom doesn't like fire stuff because I burnt the curtains once.”

“Not the curtains.”

“Her favourite ones, too.” Marinette laughed. “I got grounded and escaped out my bedroom window to go get ice cream.”

“I'll put bars on your windows,” Tom stated, leaning forward to blow out the candle before staring at her. “I love your mother more. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.”

She threw her hands up. “I'm your daughter!”

“I barely know you,” he corrected with a wide grin. “I haven't changed your nappies and fallen in love with you yet.”

Marinette scrunched her facial features up in disgust. “I hate it when you talk like that.”

He winked.

Sabine came back alone.

“He was fine until I said Mei was here,” Sabine recalled, thoughtfully tapping her chin. “Maybe because you're cuter than me?”

“Absolutely not!” Tom burst out. “You're the cutest.”

Marinette shot him a betrayed look.

Tom winked again.

Neither Tom or Sabine wanted to sleep in the same room while Marinette was there. The compromise was that Tom would walk Sabine home, so after dinner, Marinette used her magic to clear up while the two of them left.

For as lovey-dovey as they were together, they didn't do anything more than kissing in front of her.

She was extremely grateful.

After a week of staying in the past, she hadn't gotten used to it. Her old home had been across the country so she didn't know if climate change had made the weather worse, or if summer had always been as sticky and humid in the town.

It was hard to sleep.

There was magic that would keep her cool, but she couldn't keep it going when she was asleep. She wasn't experienced enough to keep anything specifically on her body after she was unconscious, so nothing was permanent yet.

Other than travelling to the past, apparently.

She kicked her duvet off, pushing her oversized t-shirt up to expose her stomach in an attempt to feel the breeze coming from the window.

Then, she heard a gasp.

Abruptly, she sat up and used a spell to turn the light on, watching as the curtains moved in a way that wasn't from the open window.

It was opened a lot more than before.

Marinette walked over to it, peering down to the darkness below. There was no small roof between her floor and the first, no decoration on the walls other than the windows outside, and definitely not anything for anyone to latch onto.

She wasn't stupid enough to think that she was the only supernatural thing.

At breakfast, Marinette bluntly asked, “So, like, does anyone sniff you?”

Tom spluttered, “What?”

“The more magic we use, the better we smell for a while,” she explained, smugly pointing at herself. “Of course, I probably smell wonderful compared to you.”

He looked at her strangely. “...Why are you asking this?”

“Someone came into my room last night.”

Tom was outraged. “What?”

“Dude, it's fine,” she answered, holding up her hands in an attempt to get him to calm down. “It's happened before.”

It didn't have the desired effect.

Tom grew red in the face as he started to rant about how it wasn't safe for her to be so blasé with her life, telling her that she should treasure it despite being stuck with him—

It was a sweet gesture.

“Dad,” she interrupted, unable to hide her amusement. “I've got spells up. If they wanted to harm me, they wouldn't have gotten in.”

His lips parted silently before he closed them, clearly lost for words.

“Your parents didn't tell you?” she asked.

He swallowed. “Tell me what?”

“You know there's other supernaturals other than us, right?” Marinette questioned, tilting her head. And when he nodded, she continued on, “Yeah, sometimes they don't... know about us? And get curious about our smell.”

He didn't look any happier with that explanation. “It's happened before?”

“Yeah, a wolf came into my room before,” she told him with a laugh. “He's my friend from school, so we were both equally as confused to see each other.”

Tom looked suspicious. “He didn't know where you live?”

“You think it's best not to invite people over,” she pointed out. “And I'm banned from sleepovers. School time is strictly human time where I'm not allowed to do anything magical.”

He was stumped on how to reply to that.

“Our household is very magic-orientated,” she informed him fondly. “And you help Mom out all the time with yours. It's cool.”

“You're... fine with not having people over?” he questioned, confused. “Why?”

“Why not?” Marinette replied. “I already see them at school.”

“And no sleepovers?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“I might accidentally use magic when I'm sleepy,” she responded matter-of-factly. “It's fine! I'm not mad about it. I find it hard not to sleep in my own bed, anyway.”

Tom didn't look convinced. “What about that wolf-boy?”

Marinette laughed. “You went to his parents and explained everything. We used to have barbecues together a lot before we moved.”

Hesitantly, he started, “So, when you say wolf...”

“Turns into a wolf on command,” she replied, showing him a thumbs up. “Really cool but he won't let me pet him.”

Tom was incredulous. “You're not scared?”

“Eh, he still thinks like a human,” she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If you want, I could try and find some books to tell you about all the other supernaturals? It might be easier to believe if it's not just coming from me.”

Tom muttered, “You really know a lot.”

“You taught me well,” she corrected, smiling brightly. “I think I know why now. I mean, I thought it was normal at first, but with seeing how your parents are... I get it.”

His smile reached his eyes. “Looks like you'll be the one teaching me.”

Marinette beamed. “Leave it to me.”

And so, her next stop was a nearby city. Marinette had tried to painstakingly use the computer to try and find a book-store before realising that it was a bust.

The city would be her best bet.

She dressed for the warm weather, strapped her bag over one shoulder instead of around her waist, and pulled her ponytail high enough so her hair wouldn't stick to her neck when she got sweaty.

Public transport was worse in the past because it didn't have free wi-fi. She couldn't just use her phone to scan her pre-bought ticket either.

It felt like a whole ordeal figuring out the simplest of things. Tom would've laughed with her and explained it all without calling her dumb, but she wasn't bringing him along for a reason.

If his magic almost always resulted in fire, his entrance into a possible book-store would've been hard.

He was upset that he couldn't come along until Sabine turned up at his door with ice cream.

Marinette left them to it.

The city was unfamiliar. Then again, almost everywhere was when she'd only moved into the area a day before she landed in the past. Her memory was hazy of the drive there, and she'd only memorised her walk to the supermarket thus far, though she had doubts that it would still be there in the future when it was one that had disappeared.

The first thing she did was stand in the refrigerated section of a store until she stopped sweating.

Tom had given her more money for clothing after she'd stained the last lot, but she didn't have any plans to indulge in that.

She looked around the different stores regardless of whether they sold books or not. The target she had in mind was a book-store that wasn't owned by a chain.

It took her close to two hours to find the right one.

Instead of being in a rundown street and in a rough area like the one she used to frequent with her father, it looked well-managed and had a bell above the door when she opened it.

The inside smelled nice, too.

She approached the counter, looking for an employee.

When there was none, she called out, “Hello? I'm looking for a book.”

An employee came out from the back, yawning.

“What books have you got back there?” she questioned, cutting straight to the point. And before they got reject that, she added, “I like the spell, by the way. It would've been awkward if my favourite thing was something really weird for a book-store to smell like, though.”

She was granted access through the back with that.

In her time, she had to prove that she was supernatural by doing something magical.

Then again, the store could've been lax.

“Thanks,” she said as they held the door open for her to go through first.

It turned out she wasn't the only one there.

“M-Meiyun?” her neighbour stuttered out, slamming his book closed and looking close to hyperventilating. His wide eyes went between her and the employee.

“It's Mei,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “So, what are you?”

He looked even more panicked at that.

The employee told her to call if she needed any help before leaving and closing the door again.

She plucked the book out of his hand, turning it over to see the title. It was one that she had read before that was outdated by her time, though the list was useful.

“Mind if I buy this?” she questioned. “Tom's never been exposed to everyone else so he's clueless.”

He burst out with, “Tom's supernatural?”

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” Marinette laughed. “By any chance, was it you who came into my room the other night?”

He looked away, ears turning red.

“Not cool,” she told him, complete with a disapproving click of her tongue. “You're lucky I didn't have any spells up to hurt you.”

And with that, he turned back to look at her with wide eyes. “Spells?”

“Is that why you're here?” Marinette grinned, placing the book down for later. “Trying to find out why I smell so nice?”

“I—”

“It's not my shampoo,” she replied, reaching up and curling her ponytail around her finger. “Nothing here really compares to what I'm used to.”

It wasn't a question when he said, “What.”

“Witch,” she said, pointing at her face. “And you?”

He looked entirely overwhelmed. “Confused.”

“Nice to meet you, Confused,” Marinette replied, trying to keep a straight face. “You can call me Mei.”

He didn't laugh at her dad joke. “Aren't you—aren't you scared of me?”

She snorted. “Dude, I could kick your ass in a second.”

He grew even more confused.

She persisted. “Am I never going to learn your name?”

“Adrien,” he blurted.

Marinette smiled. “It's nice to meet you, Adrien.”

He still looked lost.

“So,” she started, sitting down in the empty chair beside him. “What are you?”

He leaned back, almost causing two legs of his chair to lift off the floor. “What are you—”

“I'm not being insensitive!” Marinette exclaimed, gesturing between the two of them. “You came into my room first. If anyone's rude here, it's you.”

Abruptly, he stood up to create some distance between them as he stammered out, “I-I'm sorry.”

“You're not the first, my guy,” she replied tucking some stray hairs behind her ear. “You wanted to find out why I smell good, right?”

Adrien swallowed. “Really good.”

She snapped her fingers. “It's magic.”

“It's... what?” he questioned.

“Magic,” she repeated, tapping the cover of the book she'd set down. “Did you not get to witches yet? It's the scent of my leftover magic. It disappears after a while—really depends on what I cast.”

He looked mystified. “Really?”

“You don't know much,” she remarked, curious. “Are your parents super neglectful? That's Tom's reasoning for being so behind. I mean, he can barely cast a spell, so that's why you've never smelled him.”

“I-I'm new,” Adrien struggled to say. “Can you—it's hard to breathe with you near.”

She blinked. “It is?”

“Yes,” he whispered, raising a hand to cover his mouth and nose.

Marinette stood up and stood by the closed door. “How's this?”

He struggled to take in a breath.

“I cast a spell before I came in here,” she explained with an awkward laugh. “My bad.”

“You didn't know,” Adrien replied, just as quiet as his last response. “Can I—can I ask you something? Please?”

She smiled. “Sure?”

Adrien looked at the floor as he asked, “Did you—have you cast anything on me?”

“No,” she denied without hesitation. “My parents taught me that it's not good to spell anyone unless they really deserve it.”

“Nothing at all?” he questioned.

“Nothing,” she confirmed.

Adrien breathed out audibly. “Okay.”

“Why?” she enquired. “Did you think I bewitched you?”

“N-no,” he stuttered, running a hand through his hair and making it messy. “I'm... I don't know how to explain it. I'm new, so I don't—I don't want to make a fool of myself.”

“You keep saying new,” she mused. “What does that mean?”

His shoulders tensed. “I was turned a couple of months ago.”

She prompted, “And that means...”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I'm new?”

“Not that!” Marinette laughed. “What are you?”

He mumbled his answer too quietly for her to hear.

“What was that?” she questioned.

It came out in a whisper. “Vampire.”

“Oh, cool,” she replied, utterly sincere. “Welcome to your new undead life and all that. How's it going for you so far?”

Adrien stared at her strangely.

“What?” she asked, touching her face self-consciously. “I'm not covered in slushy this time.”

His voice cracked as he questioned, “You're really not scared of me?”

“What?” Marinette said loudly. “No? Why would I be?”

“I'm—”

“Adrien,” she interrupted when he started looking at the floor again. “If I wanted to, I could kill you right now. Why would I be scared?”

He was misty-eyed when he lifted his head up.

Unsure on how to comfort someone she was close to, let alone a strange man that she barely knew, Marinette chose to awkwardly point at the desk and proclaimed, “I'm going to buy that book and go home now. If you want, hit me up later and we'll chat.”

He looked horrified. “H-hit you up?”

“Knock on my door,” she corrected with a laugh. “No being weird and coming into my room, okay? Not even if you throw a rock beforehand to announce your presence.”

Adrien held his breath when she picked the book up. “Okay.”

She flashed him a peace sign. “See you later!”

-x-

It had been days and Adrien hadn't come round.

Tom was religiously studying the book she'd bought, asking her all sorts of questions, wanting to know whether she'd met any of the others listed in it. Marinette was avoiding giving him specific answers, instead giving a vague yes or no in return, and couldn't help but laugh when he got to the section of vampires.

Although she'd outed Tom to Adrien, she wasn't going to do the same back.

“You have to be respectful of people,” Marinette told her father, putting her hands on his shoulders with a serious expression. “You can't demand to know what they are unless they barge in through your window.”

Tom frowned. “You're mentioning windows a lot.”

She nodded. “Windows are your best friend.”

“I really am worried about you.”

She laughed.

Rather than being stuck as a third wheel, Marinette ran out the house and said that she'd be back later in the day. Sabine called out that she'd forgotten to take a key, but Tom knew that she didn't need one to get in.

She'd made sure not to use any magic since the night before.

And when she pressed Adrien's doorbell, it was disconnected.

She knocked and didn't get an answer.

It was locked, so she did the next best thing—hopped over the fence to get into his garden and peered to see whether any of his windows were open.

The one in the kitchen was.

Marinette pried it open, putting one leg through first before holding on the frame and awkwardly lifting the rest of her body. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, and her leg protested from being so high up while her other had still been on the floor.

She hadn't even made it in when she heard, “What are you doing?”

Holding onto the frame, she let out a nervous laugh. “I came to say hi?”

“You—you could've gotten hurt,” Adrien stammered out, closing the distance between them to offer her a hand, tugging her the rest of the way through. “What if you cut yourself?”

“I'm not really worried,” she told him, stretching out her limbs and regretting her sudden athletic choices.

As soon as she was safely inside, Adrien was back across the room, putting distance between them. “I'm a vampire.”

“Yeah, and I was on my period the first time we met,” she pointed out before hopping down from the counter. “Besides, you're not some mindless beast.”

He choked out, “Your—”

“Periods are a perfectly normal thing,” she exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. “What? Did your mother never talk to you about hers?”

He blinked. “She's dead.”

“Oh, sorry,” Marinette responded. And because she had bad impulse control—verified by her climbing into his home because he ignored her—she couldn't help but ask, “Like, are we talking dead dead or undead—”

“Dead,” Adrien confirmed with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “When she was younger. I lived with my father until I turned eighteen.”

She latched onto that. “You're eighteen?”

“I'm twenty.”

Marinette huffed. “I thought we were the same age.”

He smiled at that. “Are you eighteen?”

“Yes.”

“You look it,” he said.

“What the fuck?” Marinette touched her cheeks. “What kind of thing is that to say?”

He shifted on the spot. “You're cute, Mei.”

“Okay, now you're being weird,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Aren't you supposed to compliment before sneaking in through my window?”

Adrien squawked. “You just came in mine!”

“Revenge,” she explained with a wave of her hand. “You're ignoring me.”

“I'm—”

“I don't know anyone here,” Marinette told him. “I don't want to be a third wheel all the time. And it's not like spending time with me would be bad for you.”

He quietly asked, “It's... not?”

“You'll be more desensitised this way,” she announced, smiling. “You won't want to eat any more witches you meet.”

Adrien took a step away. “It's concerning how little you care about being in danger.”

“You sound like Tom,” she dismissed with a roll of her eyes. “You're newly turned, right? What made you come here?”

He shifted on the spot. “I'm watching the house for a friend.”

That was a surprise. “Oh, it's not yours?”

“I have no savings,” Adrien replied, running a hand through his hair. “I can't afford a house like most people.”

She winced. “That's not going to get any better.”

“Eh?”

“When's your friend coming back?” she questioned, leaning to the side to peer around him to see the hallway. “Where do you normally stay?”

Adrien's voice was quiet as he asked, “You really want to know?”

“Yeah, dude,” Marinette confirmed. “I love meeting other supes.”

“...Supes?”

“Well, I can't say naturals, can I?” she defended, raising her head up. “It'll catch on one day, I swear. Saying supernatural all the time gets annoying.”

And when he spoke, he sounded amazed. “You're... so strange.”

Marinette struck a pose. “I'm amazing, right?”

He clapped. “A bit.”

“Are you going to invite me in or not?” she questioned. “I haven't used magic for ages. I don't smell too good now, right?”

Adrien breathed in. “You smell fine.”

She clicked her fingers. “Yeah, but not fine.”

He laughed.

It was a nice sound.

“You're already inside,” he pointed out. “Since when did you care about manners?”

“I'm not apologising,” she rebutted. “It was a revenge break-in. I had every right.”

“...There's no rule that you have to return the break-in.”

“There should be,” Marinette said. “It's fun.”

He laughed again.

They spent the afternoon together.

She learned a lot about him during that time. He liked the smell of food despite not being able to consume it—hence the cookies he'd given Tom before—and it was only her that he felt awkward around because of her smell. Adrien sat across the room from her, never beside her, and made sure to keep his distance the entire time they were together.

Marinette pushed her luck and scooted closer.

He stood up and took a pointed step away.

“I haven't used magic!” she exclaimed.

“You still smell magical,” Adrien muttered, holding a hand over his mouth.

“You didn't know what that smelled like until last week,” she complained. “Is it that bad?”

“My fangs are out.”

She beamed. “Cute.”

“No.” His ears were red. “It's annoying.”

And to her delight, he had a slight lisp when he was talking with them out.

“Can I see them?” she questioned, excited.

Adrien's face turned redder.

He refused to show her.

“I'll come back tomorrow,” she told him, leaving him no room to deny her. “Also, turn your doorbell back on. You actually need that, right?”

“I can hear if someone comes,” he answered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Your hearing is that good?” Marinette sat up, visibly curious. “I read that you can hear well but that—do you mean you can, like, hear their footsteps as they come closer or what?”

“If I concentrate,” he quietly replied. “I can blur it out if I'm daydreaming.”

She whispered, “That's so cool.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Is it?”

“Absolutely,” Marinette doubled down, completely sincere. “It's so cool that we can do these things, don't you think? I mean, I was born with mine instead of being turned, but your body evolving into that over night from a bite? Amazing.”

Adrien winced. “It didn't feel amazing at the time.”

“My bad.” She grimaced. “I wasn't trying to be insensitive.”

“It's fine,” he replied, smile not reaching his eyes. “It's not your fault.”

She watched her words better after that.

-x-

Tom was proud of her for making a friend.

“It's cool,” Marinette replied, giving him a thumbs up. “In twenty-eight years, I'll come back and be his pal again. I'm not jailbait so he won't be arrested.”

Tom choked on his laughter before exclaiming, “Twenty-eight?”

“Oh, shit,” she muttered, realising she'd given away too much information. “I—no? You misheard. I didn't say anything.”

“You did!” he accused, pointing at her. “And you're eighteen, I know that!”

“Are we trying to change the future?” she muttered. “I don't think you're supposed to know exact details.”

And instead of listening to her, Tom looked excited as he said, “Sabine is going to have sex with me in ten years.”

She clapped. “You can maths.”

“This is the best news yet.”

She asked, “What? Better than finding out you're still together?”

“Meiyun,” he uttered, turning to face her as he clenched a fist. “There is nothing worse than a celibate relationship.”

“You're eighteen.”

“And I suffered,” he insisted.

She pulled a face. “This is a horrifying thing to talk to me about.”

“I will support any of your decisions,” Tom said, reaching out and clasping her hands in his own. “And it's not just because you can kick my ass.”

Marinette blinked. “I'm tempted to right now.”

He squeezed her hands until she shrieked.

As it turned out, Adrien had listened to her advice and put the doorbell back on. And when she pressed it, he actually came to the room and cracked it open, peering through the small crack.

She grinned. “Are you going to let me in or not?”

He squinted. “If I say no, you're going to barge in anyway, aren't you?”

Marinette pretended to shoot him with her fingers.

Although he kept his distance, he spoke with her more. Adrien asked her what she was doing in town, accepting that she came to stay with her cousin without asking more questions, and she pestered him about what he did in his free time.

He didn't have a job despite telling her that he didn't have a lot of savings before.

“I don't know if I'm staying here for not,” he explained with a shrug. “Seems pointless to pick up a job before leaving and not knowing where I'm going.”

“You're not mooching off your dad, are you?”

Adrien blinked. “What?”

“You said you left him before,” she recalled, tapping her chin. “Do you still keep in touch or anything? Oh, does he even know what you are?”

Adrien swallowed. “No.”

“No to—”

“These are very personal questions,” he interrupted, looking anywhere but at her.

“Sorry, I get excited,” she said with a laugh. “I don't mind if you tell me to fuck off. Hey, you can ask me anything you want! You must have questions about magic, right?”

He shifted in his seat. “No, not really.”

“What.” It wasn't a question. “You don't?”

“I'm bad at being put on the spot,” he lamely replied.

She snickered. “I can tell.”

His ears turned red.

The first time she went to rent videos was with Adrien. Tom always shoved the television on the limited channels he had for background noise, usually amusing himself with something else, so she'd been resigned to not watching any good films with him.

Adrien was another matter.

“This is my friend's,” he said, holding up a club-card for the store.

She clapped her hands.

It was a strange experience searching through all the titles and trying to recall whether she'd seen them or not. There were a few that her parents had shown her growing up, but she'd mostly watched films that came out during her time alive rather than the past. A few animated films were the exception to that.

She had the realisation that she could buy some merchandise and sell it for a lot when she returned.

Then again, she didn't feel good about spending all of Tom's allowance.

She slipped up when Adrien asked how she liked the film.

“Better than the sequel,” was her response.

He looked at her strangely.

Marinette stood up, awkwardly explaining that she should get back for dinner—

And with that, she ran out before he could say anything to her.

He didn't bring it up the following day.

Instead, Adrien took a step closer and asked, “Can I cook for you?”

She blinked. “What?”

“I like the smell of food,” he explained, running a hand through his hair. “But I can't... digest it. I'd really like to cook for you.”

Well, she was never one to say no to free food.

It was so much better than what she or Tom could make. Marinette ate with gusto, aware that Adrien was looking at her from the other side of the table, and she made made gestures to explain how good it was while her mouth was full.

He watched her with a smile.

“You should invite Tom,” she suggested. “He'd love it.”

“I-I don't think so,” Adrien rejected.

“He loved your cookies,” she pointed out. “And he thinks you're cool.”

He rested his head on his hand, elbow propped up on the table. “Won't he think I'm strange for not eating?”

Helpfully, she reminded him, “He's a witch.”

“But he—you said he hasn't got much experience,” Adrien stuttered out quietly. “He'd look at me differently.”

“I think you might just hate yourself, dude,” Marinette blurted. “There's nothing wrong with you.”

He winced. “There is.”

“Like, maybe it was scary being turned?” she rambled before thinking her words through. “You're a pretty chill guy. I mean, you fangs only come out sometimes when I smell nice. That means you've got a lot of restraint, you know?”

He looked embarrassed at the mention of his teeth.

“You're great,” she assured him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nothing like that dude that slaughtered the music festival last year.”

Adrien was alarmed. “What?”

“Oh.”

“You—what?”

She ate a large mouthful to avoid talking.

Adrien was gaping at her, either from her works or the sudden messy eating she was indulging in.

The laugh that left her was entirely forced. “That might've been a film I watched—maybe a dream? Forget it.”

He didn't look convinced.

She shoved more food in her mouth.

When she got up to return home, Adrien reached out to touch her shoulder before thinking better of it, backing away and holding his hand to his chest. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

She tilted her head. “Do you want me to?”

It was a whisper when he replied, “Yes.”

And so, she did come back again. It gave time with Tom to be alone with Sabine, and less of a chance of Sabine remembering cousin Mei all that much. Marinette tried to make her presence scarce; she liked seeing her mother young and full of energy, of course, but she didn't want to alter too much and risk something bad happening.

She had no idea what the rules for time-travel were.

There had never been any spells she'd come across that mentioned it.

She had been the one to mess up the spell and end up in the past, so, perhaps, she'd have to write her own book on her awful adventure.

It was with that thought that she dragged Adrien out to buy a disposable camera so she could get photos developed. If she didn't have time to do that before Tom's parents came back, she was sure Tom would save them for her.

Maybe that was why they'd moved into the town after she was eighteen—because it had happened before?

But that would mean that it was a loop and it had already happened, and that she was repeating her past actions.

She decided not to dwell on it.

As long as her body didn't fade away into nothingness because her parents didn't conceive her, it was fine.

“Time is a scary thing,” Marinette muttered.

“It's okay,” Adrien assured her, plastic bag rustling in his hand. “We'll put them in the freezer. You can eat them later.”

She sighed. “This ice cream represents my life.”

He quipped, “Because you're sweet and sweaty?”

Marinette was torn between laughter and being offended.

It was nice that he was up for any of her stupid ideas. And as the days passed with them spending time together, it became increasingly obvious that while he didn't have friends in town, she doubted that he had many others.

“Home-schooled,” was his explanation.

“Where'd you meet this friend?” she asked, gesturing to the house. “The one here.”

He seemed reluctant to say, “A V.A. meeting.”

“I have no idea,” she bluntly told him.

Adrien sighed. “A Vampires Anonymous meeting.”

She laughed loudly. “That exists?”

“Don't you have witch ones?” he questioned, furrowing his brow. “It's—they said it's common to go to them if you've got problems.”

“Dude, no,” she denied, amused. “I thought that was a myth. People actually go to them?”

His face reddened. “I-I do.”

And suddenly, she felt bad about teasing him. She didn't know his circumstances or much about his life, and even if she did, she wasn't in the place to make fun of him.

“I'd be too embarrassed, I think,” she admitted. “I've never actually met any other kids like me? My dad's family are the only witches I know of.”

“And Tom?”

“Yeah, he's that side,” she confirmed, able to keep a straight face. “I've read a few blogs online and things, but I never reached out to see if they were real. Nowadays it's a trend to roleplay being a witch, so I never got my hopes up.”

He repeated under his breath, “Roleplay?”

“People are weird,” Marinette informed him. “I bet you, in a couple of years, there'll be a website that's all about loving vampires. Stay far away from it, Adrien.”

He blinked.

“People are weird,” she repeated.

With a laugh, he said, “I think you're the weird one.”

“A bit.”

-x-

Tom loved Adrien's cooking.

Adrien didn't come out as a vampire to him, though.

“Why aren't you eating?” Tom asked before shovelling food into his mouth.

Marinette had to wonder if that was how she looked.

Adrien's smile was practised. “I'm on a juice cleanse.”

She almost laughed.

While the vampire part was unknown, Marinette had let it slip that Adrien wasn't completely human. Tom had been fascinated by that, flipping through the book she bought and blurting out random pages in an attempt to guess what he was. She was tight-lipped and controlled her reaction, not giving him any hints.

Adrien wasn't upset with her about it.

“Unless you do something, he probably won't guess it,” he mumbled.

Marinette snickered.

It was after that dinner that Tom pulled her aside to say that he had the perfect excuse for her cryptic comments.

“You can say you know the future,” he told her, absolutely serious.

Marinette raised her eyebrows. “Why would I do that?”

“He's so confused whenever you say something weird,” he replied, shaking his head. “You said he's something, right? He'll run with it. It'll be fine.”

“Being weird is charming,” she said. “I don't want to be that mysterious love interest that's always in a trenchcoat and lurking in the shadows.”

“Love interest?” Tom all but yelled. “I knew it! You have a crush!”

“What—it was a joke,” she spluttered, embarrassed from how overjoyed he looked. “Don't be happy! He's an old man to me!”

“Maybe he'll have a cute son,” Tom said with a grin. “Or daughter! Whatever floats your boat, dude.”

“Dad,” she started, horrified. “You're the worst.”

“I can see it now,” Tom started, tone almost wistful. “I'll have to tell them about the time you had a gross crush on their dad and broke into his home.”

She exclaimed, “What—he told you?”

Tom winked. “We gossiped while you peed.”

“You're the worst!”

“I'm trying to be a good father!” he called out as she ran out of the room. “Don't run in the house! You might hurt yourself!”

She yelled back, “You're not my dad yet!”

He cackled. “I love you, too, sweetie!”

It was true that Adrien was cute, especially when he was flustered, but he was older than her father. That thought was horrifying when she tried to picture him with wrinkles—

“Oh,” she said, hitting her head with her hand.

Vampires didn't age.

That's what some of the books she'd read had said, yet she'd never been rude enough to ask someone before. It seemed a bit too rude, like asking whether a wolf went to a groomer to get their fur cleaned properly while pretending to be a dog.

Well, that last one she'd been punched for asking.

She was young and considered it worth it.

To that very day, she still thought it was an important question.

Adrien's existence was as strange as hers, wasn't it? He couldn't eat human food, salivated after humans if they smelled too good, and he'd isolated himself for the most part because of how awkward he was at trying to fit in while being something entirely different.

With that thought on mind, Marinette slipped out her bedroom window and jumped down.

The sound of the front door would've woken Tom up.

Adrien opened the door seconds after she'd pressed the bell.

“Were you waiting by the door?” she teased.

He looked a bit embarrassed. “Maybe?”

“Did you hear me swear?” she had to ask.

“Yes,” he confirmed, looking her up and down for injuries. “What happened?”

She flashed him a peace sign with her fingers. “I jumped out my window.”

He stared.

“For real,” she insisted.

“Mei,” he said with a sigh. “Why?”

“Let me in first,” she requested, making her eyes big. “It's cold out here. And you might try and kill me if a bug bites me and makes me bleed—”

The first time he initiated contact with her was to tug her in by her wrist.

She laughed.

Adrien went back to keeping a distance from her after that, purposely sitting on the other side of the table after he'd made her a hot drink.

“It's late,” he remarked, looking at the gaudy clock on the wall. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I'd keep you company,” she replied with a smile. “It must be boring staying up literally all the time, right?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“I'm here to help.” Marinette snapped fingers. “Think of me like your personal jester.”

“You'll be tired tomorrow,” he pointed out.

“Eh, I'll chug coffee,” was her dismissive response to that.

He frowned. “That's not good for you.”

Marinette beamed. “Are you worrying about me?”

He got flustered at that.

“I get that this is really, really rude,” she started, tucking some hair behind her ear. “But I figured if we're close enough to climb into each other's windows, there's no boundaries left between us.”

He exclaimed loudly, “It was one time!”

“Once is all it takes,” she joked.

Adrien slumped in his seat, lost on how to respond to her.

It was cute.

And it was that trail of thought that had her asking, “Let's say in... twenty-eight years, you're going to look the same as you are now, right?”

“Yes?” It came out like a question. “Not exactly, but close enough.”

Marinette nodded. “Cool, cool.”

“Why?” he questioned, tilting his head a little in a way that made him look cute.

“Well,” she said, holding her mug with both hands. “I'll look the same, too.”

He blinked. “You will?”

“Okay, I'm awful at keeping secrets,” Marinette blurted, forgetting her plans to ease into it. “I fucked up a spell and got sent back here. I'm from the future.”

“That's... nice?” Adrien replied, bewildered.

“I'm serious,” she insisted. “You must've heard me and Tom talking about some weird stuff, right? You were in the diner stalking me.”

“I was not stalking you—”

“You were literally sniffing out my trail to stalk me,” she interrupted, smug. “You have no excuse.”

He grew more flustered. “You smell nice!”

“Thank you.” She beamed. “That's very nice coming from you, vampire man.”

He winced. “Please, don't call me that.”

“Back on topic,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Tom's my dad.”

Adrien frowned. “You... did call him dad.”

Her tone was gleeful. “So you were listening!”

“I couldn't help it!” he defended, face growing red. “You were—”

“No, no,” she rejected, still ever-so-smug. “You can block it out and daydream.”

And instead of responding to that, he pouted.

He wasn't calling her crazy.

“You're taking this well,” she remarked.

“I drink blood to live,” he replied with a shrug. “Who am I to decide what's not normal? You're the first witch I've met.”

“Yeah, but time-travel isn't a thing I know of,” Marinette told him with a sigh. “It was an accident. I was trying to find out who my soulmate is.”

He looked surprised. “Your—what?”

“You don't have them?” she questioned.

Adrien gawked. “You do?”

“Yeah! There's no, like, magical boost or something from being with them,” she happily explained, reciting what she'd learned through the years. “It's about happiness. When you're eighteen, you can do a spell to see what they look like in your head, but I—”

His voice was quiet. “Ended up here.”

With a grin, she whispered, “Sabine's my mom.”

“I can tell.” He cracked a smile at that. “She looks like you.”

“I look like her,” she corrected. “And she's cool. But it's so fucking weird having your parents flirt in front of you.”

“Tom knows.”

“Tom's also a teenager,” Marinette responded with a shudder.

That prompted Adrien to question, “That's why you're hiding here?”

“Well, you are cool to be around,” she assured him with a smile. “But I'm trying to reduce how much Sabine's going to remember this mysterious cousin Mei. I don't want to, like, accidentally delete myself or something.”

He seemed to struggle for words. “Meiyun, I—”

“What's up?” she questioned, seeing how he kept closing his mouth without saying anything.

Adrien ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at the table instead of her.

“I can't give you any big hints on how to make money,” she mused, taking a sip of her drink. “Want some hints? That might be fun—”

He blurted, “I saw you.”

“You see me a lot,” she agreed. “We're friends now, right?”

“No, I—” Adrien cut himself off with a frustrated noise. “In my head.”

All she could say to that was, “Eh?”

“I'd never seen you in person,” he said, refusing to meet her eyes. “But I saw you in my head? That's—that's why I tried to talk to you at the shopping centre—”

Dubious, she asked, “You saw me?”

He swallowed. “It was really clear.”

“That's—” Marinette was the one struggling for words now. The main emotion she could pinpoint was confusion. “That's—well, new.”

“I'm sorry,” Adrien whispered, burying his head in his hands. “This—I didn't know how to bring it up, and now really isn't a good time, is it? You must think I'm shameless.”

“Adrien, I'm pretty sure all you feel is shame,” she replied.

He kept his face covered.

“Can you...” Marinette trailed off, swirling the contents of her mug and staring down at it. “Do you remember what day and time it happened? As exact as you can.”

He told her.

And with that, her hands started to feel clammy. “That's when I ended up here.”

He lifted his head up, peeking through his fingers like a child. “It is?”

“I came over to find out if you'd be a dilf in the future, not my soulmate,” she muttered. “What the fuck?”

“You say so many strange things,” Adrien said, finally revealing his face with a shy smile. “You're not—you're not disappointed it's me, are you?”

“I'm starting to understand why it maybe fucked up,” Marinette said, leaning back in her chair. “I don't know how it reacts to other supes.”

He asked slowly, “You think... it sent you here because of me?”

“Well, yeah? Don't you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “You're the only variable here, you know. I'm not actually that shit at magic. That's Tom, not me.”

“I've never seen you do anything,” he pointed out.

Marinette pleasantly replied, “Because you'd want to eat me.”

Adrien winced.

“How are we supposed to be together if you can't even be near me?” she lamented. “You can't hold your breath forever to kiss me.”

He only picked up on one thing. “You—you want to kiss me?”

“Soulmates,” she reminded him, gesturing between them. “Tom says the worst relationship is a celibate one. You're not going to give that to me, are you?”

Adrien let out a choked sound.

“Oh, speaking of him,” she said, remembering a crucial detail. “I'm only here for another week. Tom's parents are back then and can probably help me get back.”

His eyes widened. “Probably?”

“I just need access to their office,” she explained. “It's spelled so no one else can enter, which sucks.”

“And the book-store wouldn't have—”

“It's best to use the original book you read it from to undo it,” she told him. “Like, I'm pretty sure we just have to use the soulmate one with a universal reverse spell and I'll blink and be back in my time.”

“Your time,” he repeated in a whisper. “When—when is that?”

“Yeah, about that...” Marinette trailed off, feeling a bit awkward to break the news to him. “Twenty-eight years.”

He swallowed. “I won't see you for that long?”

“I hope not, I'd be a child,” she joked. “And I wouldn't remember you until I've been here.”

“Oh,” he murmured.

“You don't have to wait for me,” she announced, tapping her nails on the table. “I know I said soulmates are only meant for happiness, but I don't expect you to, like, save yourself for marriage for me.”

He spluttered, “Marriage?”

“You know what I mean!” Marinette laughed. “Live your life or whatever. If we meet, cool. If not, I want you to be happy.”

His expression wasn't one she could recognise. “You're... okay with that?”

“It's not like we're in love,” she admitted. “I think you're cute, sure, but we're barely friends right now.”

He quietly agreed, “You're right.”

-x-

Adrien was a bit off with her the following day.

She didn't know how to approach the subject with him.

So, there was only one other person she could go to about her problems.

“He's your soulmate?” Tom questioned as he whirled around to face her, practically shouting his words. “He—Adrien? He's older than me!”

“He won't be physically when I'm back,” she dismissed. “Besides, I told him he can do whatever.”

Tom made a frustrated noise.

“What?” she asked.

“I should be the one saying that!” he exclaimed, running his hand over his face. “You're going to give me grey hairs already. This doesn't even make sense, Mei.”

“It does,” she replied, jumping onto the sofa and getting comfortable. “It fucked up because he's not human, easy.”

“That doesn't explain why you came to this time at all,” he insisted.

She helpfully supplied, “A mistake.”

“It doesn't make sense.”

“Tom, it's already happened,” Marinette said, trying not to laugh. “Let's not focus on the details too much when they're not important.”

He snorted. “Right, you want to know why the guy you friendzoned is upset with you.”

“It's a good question!” she defended, crossing her arms. “What if you wouldn't see Sabine for twenty-eight years? She wouldn't ask you to wait like a nun for her, would she?”

“That's not the point—”

“It literally is,” she interrupted. “Adrien's not going to age at all.”

“...What is he?”

She grinned. “A secret.”

Tom stood up abruptly. “I'll go ask him.”

“Sure, but he's not going to tell you,” Marinette replied. “He's scared you'll judge him.”

Tom placed a hand over his heart and proclaimed, “I'm a good boy.”

“Go for it, then,” she encouraged, pointing to the door. “He rarely leaves the house, so you can go now.”

And with that, Tom had a determined expression as he marched towards the door. “I'm going!”

“Good luck,” she called out.

To fill the time she was alone, she played video games and sat on the floor with her back against the sofa. The cord for the controllers couldn't reach all the way to sit on them, and Tom didn't want to put the actual console on the floor and risk accidentally breaking it when it had cost him so much money.

It was still strange to see something so dated.

By the time hours had passed, her back hurt.

Tom came back and slammed the front door open, his footsteps loud as he stomped into the living room.

“I'm warding your window with garlic,” he announced, leaving no room for her to question it. “And you're a dick.”

And before she could reply to that, he trudged off up the stairs and away from her.

She felt the breeze.

“You left the door open!” she yelled.

Tom didn't reply.

It was the following day when she went over to Adrien's.

Apparently, Tom had told Sabine that Marinette had had a falling out with her only friend there, so Sabine had turned up at their house in the early hours of the morning with cookies for her to take over and apologise with. Tom was close to laughter, trying to hide it when he knew that Adrien wouldn't be able to eat them, while Marinette was lost on why her mother was just so nice.

“Okay,” was all she could say to that.

It took her until she was at Adrien's door to realise that she was still in her pyjamas.

He'd surely heard her approach, so she couldn't turn around and come back later.

Adrien opened the door barely seconds after she'd pressed the bell.

“Hey,” she greeted, holding the plate of still warm cookies.

He looked between her face and the plate, confused.

“Sabine,” she offered as an explanation. “I think I'm supposed to apologise for being a dick and hope your appetite is bribable.”

He stood to the side, allowing her entrance.

“I don't really... know what I'm apologising for?” Marinette started, sitting down on the sofa and taking the cover off of the plate to start eating. “What did I do?”

Adrien stared. “Aren't those for me?”

“You can't digest them,” she pointed out. “What would you do? Use them as air freshener for a few hours?”

“Well... yeah,” he admitted, a bit shy. “I like how they smell.”

She grabbed a few before holding the plate out for him to take.

“Thank you,” he said, holding it in his lap with a smile.

“So,” she prompted after she swallowed her mouthful. “You were really weird around me yesterday. Did I offend you?”

“I—kinda,” he stuttered, looking down at the cookies instead of her. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” An uncomfortable feeling appeared in her stomach from that. “I'm sorry. It's never been my attention to hurt you.”

“You said I'm the person meant for you, then that you weren't interested,” he blurted, turning his head to stare at the wall instead of at her. She could barely make out his expression. “Why wouldn't I be hurt from that?”

She blinked. “No.”

“No?” he questioned, brow furrowed as he glanced at her. “What?”

Marinette asked, “Are you forgetting the thing we're I'm from twenty-eight years in the future?”

Adrien tilted his head. “Is that really important?”

“You're twenty!” she exclaimed, gesturing between them. “You'll be an old man by then!”

“My mental age stays the same as when I was turned,” he replied, adjusting his grip on the plate. “Which was only a while ago. I'm still older than you.”

She spluttered, “That's not any better!”

“You can be honest—”

“I'm from the future, Adrien!” Marinette retorted, pushing her hair out of her face. “I'm not—I moved into this town for one day and turned up back here. Why would you even be here after almost thirty years? People will recognise you.”

“I barely leave the house,” he said in return to that. “And it's my friend's name on the documents. There's no evidence of me living here.”

She bluntly told him, “You're still missing the point.”

He frowned. “Am I?”

“It's decades.”

He mumbled, “I can wait.”

“Can doesn't mean you should!” she exclaimed, almost throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Have you—have you even had a relationship before you were turned?”

Adrien averted his eyes at that.

She gaped. “You haven't!”

“I was home-schooled,” he reminded her.

It was clear that she wasn't going to change his mind any time. Although it was sweet that he seemed to want to be with her in the future—to go as far as to wait for her—it felt like she was asking for too much still.

“I'll compromise,” Marinette proposed. “I'll give you all the ways to contact me in the future; my number, my e-mail, hell, I'll even throw in my social media. I'll give it all and you can message me, even if you don't move back here.”

He looked up, hopeful. “You will?”

How could she no when he was looking at her like that?

“Sniff Tom or something when I'm gone,” she suggested. “He gets good at magic eventually.”

“I'll get better,” he promised.

“Not just for me,” Marinette said. “You can't break into someone else's home because they smell nice.”

Adrien stuttered out, “It won't happen again!”

She hummed. “I'm sure.”

It was a sign that things were fine between them when he extended his arm to give her the plate of cookies back. They'd cooled down and didn't smell as good, but they still tasted great.

Adrien watched her eat them with a smile.

“What?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

He seemed shy as he said, “It's—it's different knowing that we're soulmates.”

Her face felt warm at that.

-x-

Tom got the call from his parents saying that they were coming home soon.

They didn't ask how he was.

“How are we explaining this?” Marinette questioned, looking around the clean living room.

Adrien suggested from the sofa, “The truth?”

Tom shrugged. “They always complained about it in the past. It was because of you this time, so they won't expect me to do it all the time.”

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Cleaning is boring.”

Marinette accused, “Your house is dirty!”

“It's not my house,” was his defence. “I'm freeloading.”

“That's the spirit!” Tom chimed in, clenching a fist. “You understand me. No wonder you're going to be my son-in-law.”

Marinette threw a pillow at him.

Tom yelped as it hit him in the face.

“That's not—that's not true,” Adrien stuttered out, face turning red so he buried it in his hands, avoiding their gazes. “We're only friends.”

“Tom,” Marinette started, glaring at him. “I hate you.”

He grinned. “My sweet little girl.”

“You are the worst.”

He nodded, still smiling. “Your words are so kind.”

“I will kick you as soon as I get home,” she threatened. “I know your secrets now.”

“You already knew them,” Tom helpfully reminded her. “Like about when I was twelve—”

“Adrien does not need to know that!” she interrupted.

With his hands back away from his face, Adrien spoke up to shyly say, “I want to know everything about you, Mei.”

“And I'm a part of you,” Tom said, endlessly smug. “I shall reveal all my secrets to him.”

“He's an idiot,” Marinette said, pointing at her father. “That's all you need to know.”

“But you take after me,” Tom cooed, reaching out and trying to pinch her cheek. “Sabine keeps going on about how alike we are. She wants to spend more time with you, you know.”

“Sabine needs to forget me,” she replied, slapping his hand away.

“She's gonna find out about magic anyway, right?” Tom countered. “I'll just tell her then. She'll accept it.”

Marinette snorted. “Yes, she'll easily accept that she gave birth to your supposed cousin.”

Adrien clapped. “It's foolproof.”

Tom grinned, turning to look at him. “Right?”

“Weirder things happen to us,” Adrien encouraged, giving him a thumbs up. “And it'll be easier to introduce me if she knows about Mei.”

Tom got excited at that. “So you are planning to be here again!”

“I—yes?” Adrien stuttered out, his words coming out as a question. And as he scuffed his shoe on the floor, shyly looking down, he murmured, “If you'll have me.”

“It's a little weird,” Tom replied with a laugh. “But aren't we all?”

Marinette huffed. “Thanks for your blessing, dad.”

“You're welcome.” Tom beamed. “Maybe that's why we moved back here in the first place?”

“Or to raid the office and take your parents' belongings,” she pointed out. “They're hoarding a load of shit.”

He nodded. “It'll be our shit.”

Adrien's smiled showed his dimples. “You two are very alike.”

Marinette glared at him for that.

Tom laughed loudly, running his hand through his hair. “It's proof I'm a great father, right?”

“You're literally my age,” she retorted. “You can't take credit for this when you haven't done anything yet.”

He gasped. “I let you into my home with open arms.”

“Your dirty home,” she muttered.

“At least she didn't break in,” Adrien quipped.

Tom laughed.

It should've been weird how well they got along. Adrien had started coming over to hang out with them—only when Sabine wasn't there—and Tom had continued to warm up to him. Any lulls in conversation were filled with either her or Tom babbling, and Adrien seemed entirely amused by how similar they were, continuously pointing it out when they did something alike.

A lot of people only told her she was like Sabine because of their looks, so it was refreshing,

Until Tom stubbed his toe and Adrien said his dramatic reaction was the same as hers.

“I am not that pathetic,” she protested.

Adrien gently told her, “You almost cried because your egg yolk wasn't runny yesterday.”

She made an offended noise.

Tom laughed and put his hand on her shoulder, boasting, “That's my daughter.”

She wanted to cry.

-x-

She didn't meet her grandparents.

Tom shook her awake, singing, “Time to get up, darling daughter.”

She grunted, rolling over.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “The office is unlocked.”

Marinette sat up abruptly, hitting their heads together.

And after they recovered from the pain, she demanded, “What?”

“Parents came home,” he explained with a smile. “They've gone out to lunch for a while and gave me permission to look around for a few hours.”

Through tired eyes, she stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“They were happy about the cleaning,” Tom said, shrugging. “I didn't even have to beg or anything. And I didn't tell them anything about you, so we're cool.”

“And we can just—go in there?” she questioned, dumbfounded. “That easily?”

He happily confirmed, “Yes! I've already gone in to check that they weren't lying. Come on, let's send you back, yeah?”

And with that, he passed her her wallet and phone before tugging her out of bed. Marinette fumbled before saying that she should change into the clothes that she'd been wearing before—she did like them—and Tom waited impatiently outside the door the entire time, counting out how long it was taking her.

“I'm going to say bye to Adrien quick,” she said, running down the hall.

“Bring him over!” Tom suggested, yelling after her.

“Can't!” Marinette shouted back. “He'll try and eat me!”

It was Tom's turn to say, “That's too much information!”

Adrien was at the door in seconds.

“You're breathing heavily,” was what he said to her first. “Are you okay?”

Marinette sucked in a deep breath and almost choked. As she coughed, she held up a hand to try and assure him that she was okay.

Before she'd even realised he was gone, he came back and put a glass of water in her hand.

She finished it gratefully.

Adrien accepted the glass back and asked, “So?”

“I ran before remembering how out of shape I am,” she wheezed.

“I live near you.”

She sniffed. “You have no right to judge my body when you're immortal.”

“Okay, but I'm still sure it's worrying that you're breathing so heavy right now,” Adrien replied with a smile that reached his eyes. “That excited to see me?”

She winced. “I came to say good-bye, actually.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Marinette shifted on the spot. “Think you can hold your breath so I can hug you?”

His surprise was obvious. “R-really?”

“Friends do it all the time,” she said.

He tried not to smile as he reminded her, “I thought we were barely friends.”

“Come on, you're even friends with my dad!” Marinette laughed. “Parental approval is very important for friendships.”

“You're making it weird now.”

She questioned, “I am?”

Adrien smiled back at her. “I'll hold my breath.”

“Nice,” she complimented, stretching her arms out in front of her. “Tell me when.”

He asked through his laughter, “Are you seriously stretching to hug me?”

“I have to make this worth it,” she defended, pointedly holding her arms out and stretching again. “A weak hug is like a weak handshake.”

“They're not the same thing at all,” he denied.

“I'm going to wheeze you,” she said. “And you'll enjoy it.”

“You're being so weird,” Adrien told her, fondness clear in his voice. “Why are you like this?”

She shrugged. “Blame Tom.”

He held his hand up, showing three fingers. “I'll give you a countdown for an optimal hugging experience.”

“That's more like it!” she cheered. “Okay, I'm ready. I'm stretched. I'm not going to pull a muscle and mess this up.”

His tone was almost patronising. “That's nice, Mei.”

Adrien made a big deal about taking in a large breath.

Marinette wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Their height difference made it so she fit snugly against him, cheek against his chest as he awkwardly returned the embrace, clearly lost on where to put his hands before he settled with placing them loosely around her waist.

“Sorry for breaking into your house,” she murmured. “But I don't really regret it. You wouldn't have hung out with me otherwise.”

He didn't respond.

She made a point of squeezing as tightly as she could.

Adrien made a choked noise.

And with that, she took her chance and reached up and ruffled his hair before skipping back to create the usual distance between them.

He almost looked offended as he tried to fix his hair. “That was mean.”

And when he realised that he had a lisp because of his fangs, his face reddened.

“It's the last time I'll see you as a kid,” she replied, choosing not to tease him.

Adrien frowned. “I'm older than you.”

“I'm gonna be real stinky when I get back,” Marinette informed him without laughing. “Might want to give me warning first if you plan on stopping by. I've been holding back with spells around you lately.”

He mumbled, “I'll get better by then.”

“What's that?” she asked in a singsong voice. “I can't hear you.”

“I'll get better!” he exclaimed before wincing, embarrassed by how loud he'd been. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

“Any time, dude,” she replied with a wink. “You kept me sane.”

“You just didn't want to see your parents kissing,” he accused.

Marinette laughed.

-x-

She blinked.

“Marinette?” Tom called, voice quiet from where it was coming out the open window. “You here? Your mom wants to get ice cream.”

She was sat on the grass, close enough to the spot she'd been in before.

The book wasn't in front of her.

“Coming!” she yelled back.

And when she went into the kitchen, momentarily taken aback from how good the changes looked compared to what she'd gotten used to, her wonder gave Tom the time to wander in and find her.

Marinette gawked.

She'd remembered how muscular and large he was before, but her memories paled in comparison to the skinny guy she'd seen him as for the past couple of weeks.

“You're huge,” she marvelled, stepping closer and comparing her thin arm to his.

Tom flexed. “I really filled out, eh?”

“Do you have stretch marks?” she asked, poking his muscular arm. “I almost wouldn't believe it.”

“Quit flattering me,” he said with a laugh, ruffing her hair. “Ice cream sounds good, yeah? Your mom's waiting in the car for us.”

“I—”

“No,” he interrupted, smiling. “She's been planning this for weeks. You're going to smile and accept everything that happens today, Meiyun.”

She pulled a face. “You can't call me that now you have wrinkles.”

“These wrinkles are proof that I'm old enough to have a daughter as cool as you,” he gloated.

Marinette told him bluntly, “You're awful.”

“You can have two scoops of ice cream.”

“Three.”

He gave in easily. “Okay, deal.”

The first time seeing her mother in weeks was ruined by a party popper being set off in her face. Marinette screamed, accidentally used magic that set the confetti on fire when it landed on her, while Sabine panicked and pushed her over, telling her to roll to get rid of it.

Tom's solution was to conjure water and drop it over her.

Marinette stood there, drenched and dripping in the first five minutes she'd gotten back, while her parents bickered with each other about who's fault it was that the surprise hadn't gone the right way.

She laughed.

“So—” Marinette choked out through her laughter, using wet hand to wipe her face. “What's the date today?”

She didn't reappear on the day she'd left.

Tom argued that she'd appeared on the same date in the past, so it only made sense that she'd come back a month in the future to a time that she hadn't experienced. Sabine had sat there slowly eating her ice cream with a smile, nodding along with his words but never pitching in.

The ice-cream shop was relatively empty, so they didn't have to worry about others overhearing them.

“Ridiculous,” Marinette muttered, finishing her first flavour of ice cream. “What did I miss? Anything big?”

“Well, your friends have been wondering where you are,” Sabine mused.

She hummed. “What did you say?”

“That you were at camp,” Tom replied, snickering. “And that we'd confiscated your phone. You should really learn not to be so rebellious.”

“I'm eighteen.”

“You're my baby,” Sabine said, reaching across the table to pat her hand. “I will discipline you forever if I need to.”

“...Thanks.”

“Now to prove our cool we are,” Tom started, nudging his wife gently with his elbow. “We're going to grab something from the car. Wait here, okay?”

They didn't give her the chance to protest.

Marinette ate her ice cream slowly, sticking the spoon in her mouth while she fished out her phone and turned it on again. The battery was just under halfway, and she watched the notifications appear of each call or text that she'd missed. One of her friends had sent her a lot of memes and had then gotten upset that she hadn't responded to any one them.

It was overwhelming thinking of how she'd respond to any of them.

The only unknown number was a scam.

She locked her phone and put it down on the table, reaching across and taking Tom's ice cream and eating that alongside her own.

She deserved it.

And when they didn't return by the time she'd eaten both of them, she took Sabine's as well.

It didn't occur to her to text them and see what was taking so long.

She was still in the dated nineties mindset.

And when someone came to sit across from her at the table, she almost choked on her mouthful.

“Adrien?” she questioned, incredulous.

His smile showed his dimples. “Hi.”

“You're... here,” she lamely replied, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I—what's up?”

“What's up?” He laughed. “That's what you have to say to me?”

“I don't know, dude,” Marinette retorted, a bit wide-eyed. “I wasn't expecting you.”

He blinked. “Did they not tell you?”

“What—my parents?” She turned her head to look out the window, trying to spot their car out on the road. “Those bastards. They said they were getting something.”

“That something is me,” he helpfully supplied.

“Yeah, I'm starting to get that,” she mumbled, turning back to face him. It felt surreal to see him with a different hairstyle, though his height and body seemed almost the same. “You're actually wearing clothes that fit you.”

“I left the baggy jeans behind me,” he agreed. “They were a bad choice.”

She snorted. “You were young.”

“You're still young,” Adrien mused, propping his elbow on the table and resting his head on his hand. “And you're as cute as I remember, so that's a plus.”

And all she could really say to that was, “I—what?”

“I'm pretty much desensitised to magic now, so I won't give you that celibate marriage that you were scared of,” he said. “I won't be popping a fang around you unless you get me really flustered.”

Marinette didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Excuse me?”

He smiled innocently. “That's what you wanted, right?”

“I said no such thing,” she blurted.

“You did,” Adrien insisted, a teasing tone to his voice. “It's Tom's wish for you to be happy and full of sexual activity in your relationship, remember?”

She cleared her throat. “I don't like this conversation.”

He laughed. “Are you getting flustered?”

“You're the one that keeps mentioning sex,” Marinette retorted, lowering her voice for the last word. “We're in public. There's children about.”

Adrien pointed out, “You're the youngest here.”

“I am the child,” she confirmed with a serious nod.

“Okay, okay,” he agreed, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender. “You're a baby, got it.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“So,” he started, lips curling into a smile. “Can I take you for a date later?”

Marinette stared.

“Or tomorrow,” Adrien continued, amused. “You probably want to sleep first, right?”

She blinked. “I'm very confused right now.”

He laughed. “Want more ice cream?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” she said, putting a hand over her stomach. “I can handle a bit more.”

“Great,” Adrien said, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. “I'll get some for me to sniff so we'll look like we're on a date now.”

“What—”

He winked.

And when he returned with two scoops for each of them, sliding hers across the table to her, Adrien smiled. “That's your favourite, isn't it?”

She squinted. “Yes?”

He seemed happy at that. “Cool, Tom didn't lie to me.”

“You've been talking to him?” she questioned, eating a large spoonful and regretting it when she winced. “Wait, of course you have. But, like, for how long? Tell me you haven't seen my baby photos.”

“I haven't seen them,” he assured her. “We text sometimes? He mostly checked up on what I was doing. And threatened violence if I wasn't going to come see you now.”

She laughed. “Really?”

Adrien whispered, “He still thinks garlic works.”

“That sounds like him,” she said, amused. “So, you got threatened into this?”

“It was always my plan to come see you,” he replied, smile reaching his eyes. “I did invest a lot of money into this.”

She tilted her head. “What?”

“You noticed the changes in the house, right?”

“The... house?” Marinette asked slowly. “I haven't been to yours.”

“That was never mine,” he pointed out. “I bought yours when your grandparents died.”

It wasn't a question that time. “What.”

Adrien shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea.”

“But we're—I live there!” she spluttered.

“Yeah, I gave it to your parents,” he said. “After fixing it up, of course.”

Again, all she could reply was, “What.”

“I used the hints you gave me and made a load of money,” Adrien explained. “So, while I may not be the dilf you wanted, I could probably be your sugar daddy.”

“I will throw up,” she threatened, pointing her spoon at him.

He laughed.