Archive of Our Own

From the moment Marinette’s mother, Sabine, led her through the slightly creaky door of Miraculous Stories, she had been in love. Her mother had laughed with joy and swung her around the room in a circle, pointing out different areas. 

“You see that, Marinette? That’s going to be where our fictional stories go,” 

“And that space, right there? A reading corner. We’ll have storytime every weekend.” 

“Finally, in that corner, we’re going to put the register. We’ll welcome everyone who comes into the store, and it’ll be like one, big family.” 

And that had been true, of course, Sabine’s bookshop was lovely. She’d known every customer by name, as Marinette did now, and the bookstore had always felt more like home than their cramped apartment ever had. It was the same even now, too; Marinette’s apartment was simply where she slept, but she lived and breathed Miraculous Stories. Just like her mother had. She stood there now, at the head of the cash register, smiling at the young kids who walked through the doors.

“Girl!” Her friend Alya called out, snapping her fingers in front of Marinette’s face, “What are you daydreaming about?” 

She flushed red, tearing her eyes away from the display window of the store, “Nothing,” 

Alya gave her a knowing look, “That’s so not nothing!” She lowered her voice down to a whisper, “Is this about that mysterious guy you’ve been emailing?” 

Rolling her eyes, Marinette began reorganizing the books on the shelves, “Don’t be ridiculous, Alya. And he’s not a mystery guy. We just talk online, that’s all,” 

“She’s so day-dreaming about the mystery guy,” Nathaniel put in, pulling his hair into a minuscule ponytail. “And if you don’t know his name, Mar, then he’s a mystery.” 

“You guys are horrible,”

Alya slung an arm around her shoulder, “Love you, too. Now, why don’t you go back to your apartment? Nath and I can handle closing.” 

“Are you sure?” Marinette frowned. 

Nathaniel gave her a thumbs up from where he was standing, helping a little girl choose which book to read, and Alya nodded eagerly, nearly pushing her out the door. 

“Go on, girl. I know you’re eager to talk to mystery guy!” 

Marinette sighed but obliged her best friend’s wishes, shouldering her coat and wishing the rest of her patrons a good day on the way out. 

She trudged back to her apartment in the crisp autumn air, frowning as she took in the building under construction. It looked like it was going to be one of those massive chain stores, but she wasn’t sure which one yet. Hopefully nothing too bad for her business. After reaching the door to her apartment, she shrugged the coat off her shoulders and was greeted by the smell of fresh-baked bread– a new hobby her roommate had recently taken up. 

“You’re home early,” Tikki observed, kneading one loaf of bread as one baked. 

Marinette shrugged, “Alya insisted.” 

“Well good thing,” Tikki smiled, leaning up against the counter, “I’ve baked all this bread, and have got no clue who’s going to eat it all!” 

“Well thank god you have me,” Marinette grinned back, “I’ll always eat more of your treats.” 

She pulled out her laptop from her bag, settling herself down on the sofa. And there, just like she’d expected, was a new email. 

To: Ladybug

From: Chat Noir

Re: Félix

Félix is my yellow lab. He loves Paris nearly as much as I do, but that’s about the only thing he’s fond of. For a dog, he acts much more like a cat and is pretty standoff-ish to most people. He does get along well with a border collie named Bridgette, though. Actually, he’s sort of glaring at me right now, so I should probably stop badmouthing him– can he read my mind, you think?– onto the next topic! 

I’ve noticed it’s seeming more and more like autumn outside. Don’t you love Paris this time of year? It always makes me want to go back-to-school shopping, although those days have long passed. Maybe I’ll go and buy some notebooks, just for old time’s sake. And pencils. New pencils are always more fun to write with. I’d send you a bouquet of pencils if I knew your name. Or where you lived. Or how to get in contact with you outside of emails. I suppose anonymity might have some perks, though. And hey, there might be a day when we really do meet in real life, and I’ll get working on that pencil bouquet stat, but for now, maybe you can just buy a bouquet of pencils and pretend they’re from me.

Marinette’s smile widened as she read through the email, occasionally laughing at his antics. 

Tikki, who was naturally very curious, poked her head into the living room, “Did Chat Noir send anything good today?” 

“Yeah, he did,” 

While Tikki continued on her rant of questions, Marinette closed her laptop and stood up. She pulled her coat back on and turned to Tikki, who was giving her a questioning look.

“I’ll be back in a bit. I’m going to buy some pencils.” 

And maybe some blue ribbon– Chat’s favorite color– to tie them together. But Tikki didn’t need to know that.

Marinette felt as though she were going to scream. Of all the stupidly gullible moments she’d had in her life, this would have to take the cake. When Adrien– just Adrien, mind you; no last name– had walked into her store the other day, she’d thought he was handsome, charming even. 

Of course, he’d looked a bit ridiculous holding at least five balloons in one hand with a fish in the other, but when he interacted with the kids, it had nearly melted her heart. And it was hard to forget his awkward exit, too. He’d accidentally shut a balloon in the store, had to backtrack to get it free, and then smiled at her, blushing slightly before saying: “At least it wasn’t the fish!” and walking out of the store again. 

 And now here he was, standing there was an infuriatingly smug grin on his stupidly handsome face. Adrien Agreste. Now, Marinette was not a violent person, but at this point in time, she was very much tempted to punch a wall. Or his face, she thought absentmindedly. That would work too. The more she looked at his grin, the more she was leaning towards his face. 

“You’re Adrien Agreste,” 

His lip twitched into a further smile, taking a sip from his glass of wine, “Charmed, I’m sure,” 

“Not in the slightest,” She replied flatly, “What were you doing at my bookstore the other day? Were you spying on me?” 

“Perish the thought,” He grinned, “I was there with my cousins if you must know,” 

Marinette’s eyes narrowed, “They look a bit young to be your cousins,” 

Adrien just shrugged, “Second marriage? Maybe third?” When her expression didn’t change, he frowned slightly, “Look, I really was just bringing Alex and Juliette to your shop. I was spending the day with them and I wanted to buy them presents because they’re kids and they like that sort of thing. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, there’s only one place in the neighborhood to buy children’s books– although I’m sure that won’t always be the case– and it was yours. Just because I’m an Agreste doesn’t mean everything is a business ploy.” 

“Well forgive me for not believing you when you so conveniently forgot to mention your last name,” 

“Listen,” He said, sighing impatiently, “You’re a small bookstore. You only sell €250,000 worth of books on a good year–” 

Marinette slammed her glass down on the table, hands shaking, “How did you know that?” 

He smirked again, “I’m in the book business,” 

“No,” Marinette hissed, “You’re a fraud. I’m in the book business,” 

“Oh what, and I suppose we’re the Price Club now?” Adrien said mockingly, “Only instead of a ten-gallon can of olive oil for €3.99 that won’t even fit into your kitchen cabinets, we’re selling cheap books?” 

When Marinette didn’t speak, he surged forward, “But no, of course, I’m a spy. That’s obviously the reason. And somehow I’ve managed to get my hands on the secret sales figures of a bookstore so insignificant but overflowing with ego that I had to run over and check it out to make it wouldn’t run me, a multi-million dollar company, out of business,” 

He ended his speech there, clearly content with the response– or lack thereof– from Marinette. 

All she could do was gape at him before hissing and turning on her heel, determined to get as far away as possible from this hellish party, and most certainly from Adrien Agreste.

When she returned home that night, still fuming from the dreadful party, she’d received another email from Chat Noir. 

Do you ever feel like there’s some worse version of yourself sitting there, in control of how you talk and act? Like one day, that poor old nice version of you unknowingly opened some Pandora’s Box and all of those awful parts just flew out and took control of your life– the good parts somewhere stashed near the back of your mind while spite and arrogance man the wheel most of the time? When someone provokes you, even slightly, instead of nodding and moving on with your day it’s like your mind has been waiting for it. Whichever poor person pushed your button today suddenly gets belittled. Meanwhile, the rest of you just sits there and tries to stop you from doing something you’re already half-way done with? I’m sure you have no clue what I’m talking about, but you’re pretty much the only person I’ve got. 

Marinette sighed; it seemed like neither of them had a nice evening tonight. She wondered who had provoked Chat, and why they had done it. He seemed like such a lovely person, so much unlike Adrien… 

I do know what you mean, actually, and I’m ashamed to say I’m rather jealous. Whenever someone says something rude to me, I get all tongue-tied. I never know what I should say or how to say it, and I end up just gaping like an idiot! My mind just goes blank and once I’ve finally managed to get out of the situation, I spend all night tossing and turning and thinking about what I could’ve said. I’m doing that right now, actually. It seems we’ve both had awful nights. 

Her arms lifted up over her head as she stretched, moving over slightly as Tikki sat down next to her, taking out her book. Marinette moved to the kitchen to grab a slice of Tikki’s bread and cheese while she waited for Chat to reply, settling herself back down as his new email loaded.

Tikki looked up from her novel briefly, giving Marinette a sympathetic glance, “Rough day?” 

Marinette nodded, “You’ve got no idea. You remember that cute guy in my store I told you about?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Turns out he was Adrien Agreste. And he’s a jerk,” 

Tikki’s eyes widened, “No way,” 

“Unfortunately it’s true,” Marinette sighed. “I swear, whenever you leave me to my own devices, luck just abandons me entirely,” 

Tikki giggled, but kept so quiet so she could read Chat’s new email.

Wouldn’t it just be wonderful if I could pass all of my sarcasm and retorts to you so I would stop behaving badly and you could stand up for yourself and we’d both be happy all the time? Although I guess I should warn you that when you finally say the thing you want to at the moment you want to say it, once you get out of the situation, regret inevitably follows you out, too. Do you think we should meet? 

“Tikki!” Marinette shrieked, “He wants us to meet,”

Adrien sighed, working his way through the grocery store. It had been about a month since Ladybug had denied his request to meet in person, and the words were still ringing through his ears. She really didn’t want to meet him, she liked their dynamic exactly the way it was, and she thought there was something special about them just talking over email. 

Frowning, he picked up two different types of brie. Would Plagg be able to tell the difference between his favorite, camembert, and a slightly cheaper double creme brie? Probably not, he reasoned as he placed the cheaper one in his cart. 

“I can’t believe she doesn’t want to meet me. I’m plenty charismatic in person too, thank you very much,” He announced to the empty aisle. 

He continued going up and down the aisles of the store, grabbing the ingredients for the next family dinner. It was then that he caught sight of poorly concealed black hair and bright blue eyes. 

Of course, he would have the bad luck to run into the one person he didn’t want to see at the grocery door. Although he had to admit, it was amusing that Marinette seemed to be hiding from him. 

Honestly, he wasn’t like he didn’t have anything better to do than annoy her all day. 

“Oh well now she’s just being ridiculous,” Adrien muttered as Marinette made a mad dash for the shortest line she could find. 

Deciding that at this point in time, he didn’t, in fact, have anything better to do than annoy her, he moved to get into the same line as her, stifling a laugh as she quickly switched lines, standing with her back to him. 

He allowed himself to zone out afterward, scrolling through his emails, hoping Ladybug had sent him something until he heard a commotion from the line Marinette had stationed herself in. 

“Excuse me, this is a cash-only line,” 

Adrien raised his eyebrows, turning to glance at the cashier, seeing Marinette floundering in front of her. 

She frantically patted down her purse, “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I only have a credit card with me right now. Is that okay?”

The person behind her rolled his eyes, “Of course, it’s not okay. There’s a sign. Cash-Only.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any cash on me,” Marinette replied, pulling out her wallet again, “I only have one euro, that’s it,” 

Another woman in line tapped her foot impatiently, “Go on, Mademoiselle. Get in another line,” 

Adrien sighed, realizing he was going to have to come to her rescue. He wandered over, faking a surprised expression at seeing Marinette. “Oh, hello there,” 

“Hello,” She replied stiffly, still searching her purse for cash. 

“Do you need money?” Adrien offered. 

Marinette looked appalled at the question, “No, I don’t need any money, thank you very much. I’m fine.” 

“Both of you need to get in another line,” 

Adrien looked up at the cashier, putting on a blinding smile, “Hi,” He stalled for a second, reading off her name tag, “Lila. That’s a lovely name. Lila, this is Marinette, and I’m Adrien. Nice to meet you. Happy Jour d'armistice,” 

Lila just stared at him, so he continued on, “This is when you say Happy Jour d'armistice back. It’s only polite, you know,” 

“Happy Jour d'armistice back,” 

Adrien’s smile widened, “Lovely. Now, Lila, do you know what this is? This is a credit card machine. Now could you do us a huge favor and put this credit card through that machine?” 

Lila took the credit card from him, a smile appearing on her face. He turned to wink at Marinette, who was absolutely fuming. 

“So,” He drawled, “You’re fine,” 

“Fine,” Marinette repeated. “You really think you’re some sort of knight in shining armor, don’t you? 

He raised his eyebrows at her as she put her grocery bags back in her cart, “Happy Jour d'armistice, Princess,” 

Adrien sat back in his chair as Plagg blasted Noël carols, watching as snow lightly fell outside his apartment window. For such a cynical person, he could really get into the Noël spirit when he wanted to. 

As he took a sip of his hot chocolate, he poured over the most recent email Ladybug had sent him. 

Subject: Noël 

The winter holidays are always an awkward time for me, but this Noël more than anything else. I keep finding myself missing my mother, who’s been dead for nearly ten years. Paris this time of year is riddled with all the things we used to do together. Going to see the nutcracker, ice skating at Grand Palais, watching the first snowfall of the year at the Eiffel Tower… it seems like everywhere I go, my mother follows. 

I miss her every Noël, but it’s especially hard this year because I need advice from her. I keep waiting for her to show up and stroke my hair like she always used to, telling me I’m being ridiculous and the answer to my problems is right there in front of me. I just wish she could tell me what to do. 

He frowned, knowing where she was coming from. Missing parents around the holidays was something Adrien was all-too-familiar with. He still has trouble looking at pictures of his mother around the holidays, wondering what she would do if she were still here. 

Pulling his computer into his lap, he began typing out a response. 

Re: Noël

I understand how you feel. My mother used to take me ice skating, too, although I was horrible at it. She would skate around me, doing these crazy jumps– triple axels and the like– while I could barely hang on with those silly crates in front of me. And I was actually in the nutcracker. (Don’t ask me why– those were the dark days). 

My mom died when I was thirteen. My parents were divorced and I was staying with my dad, who is not famous for empathy or sympathy or anything of the sort. His way of breaking the news of her death to me was by telling me she would not be picking me up like usual. It was a car accident, and I don’t know where she was going or who she was with. I assume I owe her the ability to cover almost all of my emotions with a joke. A useful gift, unless you actually want to know what you’re feeling. My mom was really beautiful, too. I know people throw that word around a lot– so much that it’s almost lost its meaning– but my mom really was. I remember that. 

Adrien blinked tears out of his eyes, surprised to find that he was crying. He couldn’t believe that even writing about his mother had moved him to tears. He shook his head, shaking his emotions off with it. 

But that’s ancient history, really. What kind of advice do you need? Anything I can help with? 

As he sighed, grabbing a tissue to wipe away what was left of the tears on his cheeks, he waited until he saw the little icon that notified him that Ladybug was online. He quickly moved to instant message her. 

Chat: I had a feeling you’d be online soon

He waited a moment for Ladybug to respond, but when she was still quiet, he typed out another message. 

Chat: I can give you advice if you need it. I’m actually pretty good with advice, for such a human train wreck. 

Ladybug: I don’t think you can help. 

An unfortunate thought crossed his mind: what if Ladybug was in love with someone? Well, it’s not like Adrien could really complain, he was technically in a relationship with Chloé, but almost everyone who knew him knew that was just for publicity. 

But the idea of someone he truly cared about already haven given their heart to someone else… he wasn’t sure he could deal with that. 

Chat Noir: Is it about love? 

Ladybug: Oh god no

Ladybug: My business is in trouble. My mom was in the same business, so she’d have something wise to say. 

Adrien let out a sigh of relief, not only because Ladybug wasn’t having relationship issues, but also because this was something he could help with. 

Although being part of the Agreste Empire wasn’t particularly enjoyable, it did make him very business savvy. 

Chat Noir: I happen to be an excellent businessman. It’s what I do best. What’s your business? 

Ladybug: Nice try, kitty. No details, remember? 

After he heard Adrien’s groan, Plagg poked his head out of the kitchen, “What, your lovebug being annoying?” 

“She’s not my lovebug,” Adrien frowned, “And no, she’s just being careful about our identities.” 

Plagg rolled his eyes, “Jeez, you’d think this was life or death or something,” 

Chat Noir: Well, minus details it’s hard to help, except to say whatever’s happening, you’ve got to fight it. 

Chat Noir: If your business is in trouble, then you’re at war. “It’s not personal, it’s business. It’s not personal, it’s business.” Tell that to yourself every time you feel like you’re losing your nerve. I know you worry about being brave, and this is your chance. Fight. 

“Hey, kid!” Plagg called out, “You coming for dinner or not?” 

Adrien groaned, “For the last time, Plagg. You’re only two years older than me! And yes, I’m coming,” 

He quickly typed in a goodbye to Ladybug, hoping her business turned out alright. 

Chat Noir: Au revoir

Adrien stared incredulously at the TV screen as the news reporter interviewed Marinette. His feet pounding against the treadmill helped him focus, calming him down as he watched the report go on. 

The woman reporting for TVi, a woman Adrien recognized as Nadja Chamack, held the microphone up to her mouth. “We’re here at the front of Miraculous Books, the famous Parisian bookstore now on the verge of having to close because the big bad wolf, Agreste Books, has opened only a few hundred feet away, wooing customers with their sharp discounts and designer coffee,” 

He scoffed, staring down the TV. Of course, they sold their books on discounts– that’s what all massive chain brands did. It wasn’t exactly his fault. 

Marinette, who was standing next to Nadja, talked into the microphone next, her blue eyes sparkling, “They need to have discounts and coffees because most of the people who work there have never read a book,” 

Nadja laughed as though what Marinette had said was really funny, although Adrien didn’t particularly think it was. 

Turning to glance at Nino, who was jogging on the treadmill next to him, he huffed out, “She’s really not as nice as she seems on television,” 

His friend raised his eyebrow, “You’ve met her?” 

He nodded, “She’s kind of a pill,” 

“I bet she’s not as pretty as she looks on TV either,” 

Adrien shook his head, glancing at Marinette on the television. Despite the anger shaking her voice, her blue eyes seemed calm, and her black hair looked gorgeous cascading in waves down her back. “No, she’s beautiful in real life, too. But a pill, though,” 

“So you don’t feel at all guilty about pretty much destroying her livelihood, not to mention her legacy, not to mention her raison d'être?” Nino asked. 

He sighed, “It’s not personal–” 

“It’s business,” Nino finished for him, shaking his head. “I know,” 

The television screen flashed from Marinette to the Agreste’s Books a few blocks away, showing an interview with Adrien. He watched his onscreen self, grimacing when he noticed how cocky he looked leaned against the bookshelf like he was. 

TV-Adrien shrugged, “I sell cheap books, sue me. I sell cheap books, and as a result– pay attention to this part, because this is the worst– more people can buy more books.” 

His jaw dropped when the broadcast immediately cut back to the reporter. 

Nino glanced at him, clearly unimpressed, “That’s what you said?” 

Adrien felt his cheeks flush, “Well obviously that’s all I said! I– I just can’t believe those people! I said we were great, I said that people could come and sit and read for hours undisturbed, I said we stocked over 150,000 titles, I showed them the Paris section. I said we were a goddamn piazza where people could mingle and mix!” 

“A piazza?” Nino exclaimed, “Of all the words to say, you chose that one?” 

Adrien threw his arms up in exasperation, “I was eloquent!” Nino raised a questioning eyebrow at him, “Merde! It’s just inevitable, isn’t it? They’re going to turn her into Joan of Arc–” 

“And you into Attila the Hun,” Nino replied. 

“Well not me specifically,” Adrien corrected, “More like the whole company, really–” 

He paused as Marinette showed up back on the screen, clearly in a one-on-one interview. 

“– And I have to say, I’ve met Adrien Agreste, who obviously owns Agreste’s Books, and I have heard him compare his own store to a Price Club and the books inside to olive oil.” 

At this, Adrien promptly fell off his treadmill.

Marinette felt her eyes watering as she looked out the main door of Miraculous Books, watching people carrying bags labeled with Agreste’s Books walk past her door. Her mind flashed back to the first time she’d met Adrien, not even realizing who he was. How could that person be the same one who was now driving her small shop out of business? 

She shook her head, getting rid of the thoughts about Adrien as she flipped the Open sign to Closed. 

Inside the shop, Nath was animatedly discussing his upcoming date with Marc. “And I can’t decide whether to put sausages into the meat sauce or just chopped meat. Because last time I made this recipe, Marc and I got, uh… distracted,” Nathaniel blushed red. 

“Oh please,” Alya rolled her eyes, “No need to be so embarrassed about it. And when in doubt, just keep it the way it was before. That’s what I do with recipes that Nino’s never tried before.” 

Marinette perked up at the mention of Alya’s boyfriend since college, “Oh, how is Nino doing these days?” 

Alya smiled proudly, “Oh he’s doing well! I think he’s going to propose soon.” 

“That’s amazing!” Marinette squealed. 

Nathaniel sighed, shooting them a small smile, “Well I’ve got to get going. Marc hates it when I’m late. Have fun you two!” 

Once he walked out the door, the bell jingling merrily as he left, Alya sighed and gave her an apologetic look. 

Marinette felt her eyes watering up again, “Oh no. Please don’t tell me. Not even the slightest difference?” 

Alya shook her head, her own eyes brimming with tears, too, “I’m so sorry, Mar. I don’t know what’s wrong,” 

“How could that happen?” Marinette cried, “All this publicity; the protests outside Agreste’s Books, and not the slightest bit more income? How can none of this make a difference? Oh, Alya, what am I going to do?” She glanced at her frantically, “What would my mom have done?” 

Her best friend since high school, Alya had known Marinette’s parents almost as well as she said. When her father had passed away from a car accident and her mother from cancer, Alya had been nearly as distraught as she had been. 

Alya gave her a sad smile, moving towards the photo of her mother that hung on the wall behind the register. “Let’s ask her, why don’t we?” 

“Sabine,” She said gently, “What should we do?” 

She held her ear up to the portraits for a few moments, keeping her eyes on Marinette all the while to make sure she was okay. 

“Alya?” Marinette asked, “What are you–” 

“Shhhh,” Alya said, holding her ear to the portrait a moment longer.

“She doesn’t doesn’t know Marinette,” She said with tears in her eyes, “But she has faith that you’ll figure it out. And she knows you’ll do the right thing,” 

Marinette pulled her into a hug, sobbing into her shoulder. Alya held her tightly, rubbing light circles on her back. “Oh, it’s okay, girl. You’ll be okay.” 

After nearly thirty minutes, Marinette sniffled and pulled away. “I should get home to Tikki. Thank you, Alya.” 

“Goodnight,” Alya replied, backing away from Marinette and out the door. 

Light snow sprinkled the ground on her walk home, and once Marinette finally arrived, she gave Tikki a light hug and made a beeline for her laptop. 

She pushed it open, scrolling back to the email where Chat Noir had offered to meet. Then she opened up instant messaging, rapidly typing out a new message. 

Ladybug: I need help. Do you still want to meet me? 

She stared at the screen as the three dots signifying Chat’s typing, although she didn’t have to wait long for his response. It seemed that he was as eager as he had been before to meet her. 

Chat Noir: Where? 

Chat Noir: When? 

Marinette sighed with relief, wiping the remnants of her tears away. As long as she had Chat Noir by her side, how bad could things possibly be?

When Adrien received the message from Ladybug asking if he wanted to meet, he wasn’t sure whether or not he was dreaming. But here he was, almost a week later and preparing to meet her at a cafe in a few minutes. 

His friend, Nino, however, seemed to be having a field  day with making fun of him, “I suppose she’s carrying a copy of a book with a flower in it?” 

Adrien blushed, remaining silent as an attempt to avoid further scrutiny. 

“Oh my god. Dude . She’s actually carrying a book with a flower? Are you kidding me?” 

“No,” Adrien said defensively, “She’s just… well, yeah, that’s what she’s doing.” 

Nino rolled his eyes, “Now enlighten me. Which Jane Austen is it?” 

Adrien grinned, pleased that Nino had been wrong about something, “It’s not actually a Jane Austen book. It’s A Tale of Two Cities .” 

“You do realize she could be hideous, right?” 

“I know,” Adrien said, and seeing Nino’s look elaborated, “Look, if she’s not the sort of person I could see myself with, I’ll just stay ten minutes. I’ll say hello, drink a cup of coffee, and leave,” 

Now beginning to panic, Adrien turned back to Nino. 

“Walk me there?” 

Nino shook his head in exasperation, “Yeah,” 

His best friend slung an arm around his shoulder, leading him over to the cafe where they’d chosen to meet. 

As they walked closer and closer to the entrance, Adrien’s panicked ramblings continued, “What if she has a really squeaky and high-pitched voice? I’ll never be able to listen to her, which is stupid, because I love hearing what she has to say. Those types of voices always remind me of the mice in Cinderella,” 

Nino did a double-take, “There are mice in Cinderella?” 

“Yeah,” Adrien nodded, “Gus-Gus and… uh… crap I don’t remember the other one. Why was I so compelled to meet her? I’m just ruining a perfectly good thing. Tempting fate and all that. Knowing my luck she’ll end up being some psychopath or kleptomaniac or something!” 

“You’re taking it to the next level,” Nino calmed him, “I always do that. I always take my relationships to the next level. And then if that works out okay, then I take it to the next level after that, until I finally get to the level where I either buckle up and keep on going or make a run for it. And look where I am now, I’m about to propose to Alya,” 

“Well not all of us got lucky enough to meet our soulmates in college!” Adrien exclaimed before trying to calm himself down again, “I’m not going to stay that long, anyway. Wait– I already said that, didn’t I?” 

Nino nodded, “Sure did, dude,” 

“I’m a total wreck!” Adrien exclaimed. 

When they finally approached the entrance to the cafe, he turned away from it to grab Nino’s shoulders. 

He shook them violently, staring Nino dead in the eye, “Nino, this woman is the most adorable person I’ve ever had the luck to meet. If she turns out to be half as good looking as a mailbox , I would be crazy not to turn my life upside down and marry her.” 

Nino slowly backed away from him, “She could be hideous, dude,” 

Adrien let out something akin to a muffled scream, “You go look,” 

“Me?” 

“Please?” Adrien begged, “Just go over to the window and see if she’s there.” 

“You’re being ridiculous,” 

Despite his scolding of Adrien’s behavior, Nino went up to the window, cupping his hands over his eyes to peer inside. 

“Do you see her?” Adrien asked nervously. 

Nino shrugged, “There’s a beautiful, whoa, very beautiful woman,” 

“Yes…” He coaxed. 

“But no book,” Nino said, giving Adrien a sympathetic glance before turning back to the window, “Alright, let me see… let me see… Wait a minute! There’s a book with a flower, so that must be her!” 

Adrien hid his eyes behind his hands, “What does she look like?” 

His best friend shook his head in exasperation, “I can’t tell, there’s a waiter standing in front of her. I can’t see her face. He’s serving her a cup of tea and she’s putting in three spoonfuls of sugar–”

“Well, why shouldn’t she?” 

“No reason,” Nino replied, “Well unless she has hypoglycemia–” 

“How is this relevant Nino?!” 

As he paced back and forth on the snowy sidewalk, Adrien tugged at his hair. Honestly, for someone he felt so close to online, it shouldn’t be this stressful to meet them in person. But there was some sort of fear that Ladybug might be different in real life than she was through email. Or maybe he was different. What if she didn’t like him? 

“–Oh, the waiter’s moving,”

Adrien let out a sigh of relief, “Okay, and? Can you see her?” 

Nino nodded, although he looked a little nervous, “Yeah. She’s, uh, very pretty.” 

“She is?” Adrien beamed. Of course, she would be; of course, someone that kind and lovely would be beautiful on the outside, too. “I knew she would be. I was sure of it,” 

A slight grimace made its way on Nino’s face as he glanced back and forth between Adrien and Ladybug, “She looks, well… I would say she has the coloring of that Marinette Dupain-Cheng woman.” 

Adrien’s brow furrowed, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng of the bookstore?” 

“Why not?” Nino asked, his voice rising slightly in panic, “You said you thought she was attractive,” 

“So what? How cares about Marinette right now?” He asked in exasperation. 

Today was supposed to be about Ladybug, so why on earth was Nino prattling on about Marinette? Unless… no, there was no way. 

“Well, if you don’t like Marinette, I can tell you right now, you’re definitely not going to like this girl.” 

Panic flooded through Adrien’s veins, “Why?” 

“Because, well…” Nino grit his teeth, “Because she is Marinette,” 

Adrien’s mouth dropped, “Oh god,” 

Of all the people Ladybug could have been, of all the awful scenarios Adrien had run through his head, she just had to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the one person who hated him more than anyone else. 

“What are you going to do?” Nino cried. 

“I–” Adrien shook his head, feeling as though someone had just dropped a mountain on him, “Nothing. I’m not going to do anything.” 

Nino looked at him in disbelief, “You’re just going to let her sit there waiting for her? You’re seriously going to stand her up.” 

“Yes. Yes, I am. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Why not?” 

“But she wrote the letters,” Nino protested, “She seriously cares about you.” 

“No,” Adrien countered, “She cares about Chat Noir. She hates me. I–” He sighed, “Goodnight, Nino. I’ll see in the morning,” 

As Nino walked away, Adrien let out a sigh of relief, slumping down against the lantern post. He snuck a glance back at Marinette, watching as she nervously fiddled with the book and rose, never taking her eyes off the door. 

He sighed, beginning to move towards the front door. 

“What am I doing?” 

Something stupid, clearly, he thought as he pushed open to door of the cafe. As soon as he walked through, Marinette held the book up to her face, obviously trying to hide from him. He walked up to her, trying desperately to hide his nerves.

He leaned against her table, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, hello. What a coincidence,” 

Yeah, right. 

“You mind if I sit down?” He asked. 

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him, “Yes, I do actually. I’m waiting for someone.” 

Adrien, being the gentleman he was, sat down anyway. He picked up her book, inspecting it for a moment, “ A Tale of Two Cities , huh?” 

“Do you mind?” Marinette hissed, grabbing the book back. 

He shrugged, “I didn’t know you were a Charles Dickens fan. Not that it’s really a surprise. I bet you read it every year. I bet you love Charles Darnay, you mourn the death of Sydney. How much they love– oh, what is the woman’s name again? I bet you just love the romanticism of it all. Dying for love and all that.” 

“Would you please leave?” 

Adrien just leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. 

Marinette glared at him, “You’re incorrigible,” 

“I’ll get up as soon as your friend comes,” Adrien glanced at the clock, “Oh dear me, is he late?” 

“The heroine of A Tale of Two Cities is Lucie Manette, and she’s an incredibly written character, although I suppose you wouldn’t know one of those if they hit you in the nose,” 

He raised his eyebrows, “I actually have read it, you know. ‘O Miss Manette, think now and then that there is a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you.’”

Although Marinette’s jaw dropped, she continued to stare him down as though unimpressed, “Good for you,” And then more quietly, “It’s a beautiful quote.” 

“Sentimental drivel,” He countered, “Anyway, I think you’d discover a lot of things about me if you really bothered to get to know me,”

“You know what I’d find if I really knew you?” Marinette asked, “Because I know exactly what it would be. Instead of a brain, a cash register, and instead of a heart, a bottom line.” 

A slight smirk pulled at Adrien’s lips as her jaw dropped, “What is it?” 

“I’ve just had a major breakthrough,” Marinette explained, running her hands through her hair, “And I suppose I have you to thank for it. For the first time in my life, when confronted with a horribly insensitive person I actually knew what I wanted to say and was able to say it.” 

Fighting off a grin, Adrien shrugged, “Well, it seems you have quite the gift for it. It was a lovely mixture of poetry and meanness,” 

“Meanness?” Marinette exclaimed, clearly offended, “Let me tell you–” 

“For the love of god, Dupain-Cheng, I was trying to pay you a compliment,” Adrien groaned. 

He picked up the rose next, ignoring Marinette’s excessive protests. “And look what we’ve got here. A red– crimson, even– rose tucked into the pages. Something you read about in a book, no doubt. Oh, let me guess: it was on one of the covers of a cheesy romance novel,” 

Marinette stared at him, stony-eyed, “Give it to me,” 

Adrien shook his head, placing the rose atop his upper lip, making it look like a mustache. 

“This is just a joke to you, isn’t it?” Marinette demanded, “Everything’s a joke with you.” 

She stared at him, “Please…” She sighed, “Just leave. Please,” 

Adrien nodded, getting up from her table, only to sit directly down at the empty table directly behind her. 

Though she threw a glare at him, Marinette didn’t say anything more, blotting her lipstick with her handkerchief– the same one she’d had the day he’d walked into her bookstore. 

He voiced this aloud, “You know what that handkerchief reminds me of? The first day I met you–” 

“The first day you lied to me–” She argued. 

Adrien sighed,  “– I didn’t lie to you–” 

“You did too–” 

“– I did not–” 

Marinette shook her head in disgust, “You know, I thought you were so charming that day. I can’t believe I fell for it,” 

“I never lied about it!” Adrien exclaimed. 

She raised her eyebrows at him, “‘Adrien, just call me Adrien,’” She mocked. 

“Honestly, as if you were only of those stupid 22-year-old girls with no last name. “Hi, I’m Kimberly,” “Hi, I’m Janice,” What’s wrong with them? Don’t they know that people are supposed to have last names? It’s like they’re a whole generation of cocktail waitresses,” Marinette stopped herself on the rant, clearly not meaning to have gone on it in the first place. 

Adrien rolled his eyes, “I am not a stupid 22-year-old girl–” 

“You know that’s not what I meant–” 

“–And when I said that thing about Price Club and cans of olive oil, that wasn’t what I meant either–” 

Marinette faked a pout, “Oh, you poor sad multimillionaire. I feel so sorry for you.” 

The door opened and both their heads snapped towards it, watching as a man wearing a tinfoil hat walked through. 

“Well,” Adrien drawled, “I’m going to take a wild guess that this isn’t him, either. Who is he, I wonder? Will you be mean to him too? Will you start out sweet as sugar candy and then suddenly, miraculously, like a lightning bolt out of nowhere, surprise him with your sharp tongue?” 

“No,” Marinette said indignantly, “I won’t. Because the man who’s coming here tonight is completely unlike you. He’s– he’s kind and funny– he’s got the most wonderful sense of humor–” 

“But, he’s not here,” Adrien reminded her. 

Rage began to stir in Marinette’s eyes, “If he’s not here, I’m sure he has a reason because there is not one cruel or reckless bone in his body. But I can’t expect you to know anything about a person like that. You’re nothing but a suit,” 

As he felt his eyes begin to burn, Adrien stood up suddenly, “Well, that’s my cue. Goodnight, Marinette,” 

This had been a horrible idea.

Marinette blinked the tears out of her eyes as she walked toward Miraculous Books the next day, desperately hoping that everyone would have forgotten that she was supposed to be meeting Chat last night. 

Unfortunately, she had no such luck. As soon as she rounded the corner onto the street her store was stationed on, Alya was right by her side. 

“What happened?” She asked, an eager expression on her face. 

She shook her head miserably, clutching her purse closer to her side, “He never showed up,” 

Alya’s jaw dropped, “You’re kidding me, right? Girl, he stood you up?” 

As she unlocked the door to the store, she nodded. They walked through the door and Marinette busied herself settling her personal items into the drawer by the register, “I think something terrible happened,” She rambled, “Something terrible and unexpected that made it impossible for him–” 

It was then that Nath walked into the shop, “What happened?” 

“He, uh,” Marinette sighed, “He wasn’t able to make it,” 

Nath raised his eyebrows, “He stood you up,” He corrected. 

Marinette snapped her fingers, desperately wracking her mind for something that could have happened to make it so he couldn’t come, “What could have happened?” 

She saw both Alya and Nath grimace, but she continued on, “Why didn’t he come? Maybe he did come, took one look at me and bolted!” 

“Not possible,” Alya said. 

“Maybe there was, a uh… Tram accident!” She exclaimed. 

Alya nodded sagely, “Absolutely,” 

“The train was trapped underground with him inside,” Marinette elaborated, mind rushing with the possibility that Chat hadn’t meant to abandon her. 

“And no phone,” 

Meanwhile, Nath just looked upset, shaking his head slightly. Marinette pouted at him, her brain searching for more and more scenarios Chat could have been stuck in. 

“Or,” Marinette added, “Maybe it was an automobile accident. Those cab drivers can be maniacs.” 

“Exactly! They hit something and you slam right into that plastic partition!” Alya exclaimed. 

Marinette nodded, latching onto the story like a lifeline, “His elbows could be in splints, so he couldn’t really type…” 

“Or he could be in one of the hospitals with shitty wifi!” 

They both turned back to Nath, who was shaking his head sadly. 

“Oh, what is it?” Marinette threw her hands up. 

Nath handed her the newest copy of the paper, the front page title reading ‘COPS NAB HAWKMOTH’ .

The notorious thief, Hawk Moth, has finally been caught. Most known for his heist of the ancient artifacts titled the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous, he has been apprehended, and police are hopeful that the artifacts will be received soon… 

Marinette’s head snapped up to look at Nath, “What are you saying?” 

“It could be…” Nath trailed off, grimacing. 

Both Alya and Marinette froze, staring at him as he continued, “He was arrested just two blocks from the cafe you guys were meeting at,” 

Alya leaned forward curiously, “Is there a picture?” 

There was, but it was just a man with his jacket pulled up over his head. 

“Well,” Alya said as though the matter was decided, “That explains it,” 

Nath nodded, “He was in jail,” 

Marinette gaped at the two of them, shocked that the two of them would so easily believe that she was about to meet up with a notorious thief. 

“And, technically he could have called–” Alya said. 

“– But he only got one call, and he had to use it to call his lawyer,” Nath finished. 

Alya shook her head slowly, “You are so lucky,” 

“You could be passed out in a ditch with all of your valuables gone,” 

She shook her head, crossing her arms, “You two are insane. The man that I’ve been talking to couldn’t possibly be Hawk Moth,” 

Her best friend raised her eyebrows, “He could be. I mean, remember when you thought Nath could be that art thief– what was his name, Evillustrator?” 

Ignoring Nathaniel’s wounded expression, Marinette waved her hand and scoffed, “That was different!” 

“Girl,” Alya said slowly, “How long did you sit there all alone?” 

Marinette winced, fiddling with her fingers, “Not that long. Adrien Agreste came in–” 

“Adrien Agreste!” Alya exclaimed. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Marinette sighed and closed her eyes slowly, “Let’s just get to work.” 

She opened her eyes, glancing around the store. There was no one there, and they had just cleaned and reorganized the other day. For the first time in years, it seemed that there wasn’t anything for them to do at the store. 

“There must be something to do,” She said in disbelief, “There’s always something to do,” 

All of their heads turned to look at the front door as the jingle sounded, but it was only Tikki who walked through, a hopeful look on her face. 

Alya just shook her head, sadness fluttering across it, “He stood her up,” 

Tikki’s face fell and Marinette couldn’t help the tears that began streaming down her face as she collapsed into the nearest chair.

Adrien stared at Ladybug– Marinette’s – email, feeling sick to his stomach. 

 He hadn’t been able to bring himself to respond to her yet, he couldn’t even figure out what he would say if he did, so for now he just sat there, re-reading the letter for what felt like the hundredth time. 

To: Chat Noir

From: Ladybug

I’ve been thinking about you a lot. Last night, when I went there to meet you and you weren’t there, I felt awful. I wish I knew why you did that to me. I felt so foolish just sitting there, waiting for someone who never even bothered to show up. 

And as I waited, someone else showed up; a man who has made my professional life a misery, and an amazing thing happened– I was able, for the first time in my life, to say the exact thing I wanted to exactly when I wanted to. And of course, afterward, I felt awful. Just like you said I inevitably would. 

I was cruel, and I’m never cruel– at least not that intentionally. And even though I’m having trouble believing what I said would ever matter to that man– to him, it seems like I’m just a bug to be crushed– but what if it did? No matter what he ever did to me, there’s no excuse for my behavior. Anyway, you’re my dear friend, Chaton, and so I wanted to talk to you. I hope you have a good reason for not being there last night, but if you don’t, or if we never really connect again, I just want to tell me how much it meant to me to know you were there. 

Adrien stared at the email a moment longer before shaking his head and closing out of the tab. He wandered uselessly around his apartment, opening the fridge and closing it again. 

Plagg tapped him on the shoulder, rolling his eyes, “Are you seriously going to stop talking to her? Come on, Adrien. I’ve heard you whine about this girl for months, and now you’re just going to pretend she never existed. Don’t be stupid,” 

He nodded numbly, wandering back over to his desk. The empty tab seemed to taunt him and he sat down, only to get up again. Then he sat down again. He opened up his email again, hitting the reply button. 

To: Ladybug

From: Chat Noir

I am in London

“No that’s not right,” He muttered, hitting the delete button and starting again. 

I was stuck in a meeting, and I couldn’t get out of it, and I didn’t have my computer or anything on me . The electricity went out in the building and we were trapped on the eighteenth floor and my computer wasn’t charged. Amazingly enough. 

I was stuck in a meeting, and I couldn’t get out of it, and I didn’t have my computer or anything on me. The electricity went out in the building and we were trapped on the eighteenth floor and my computer wasn’t charged. Amazingly enough. 

“Jesus, Adrien, she’s not stupid,”

He stared at the blank screen for a few minutes, unable to think of anything to say, “I hate you,” 

My Lady, 

I cannot tell you what happened to me last night, but I beg you from the bottom of my heart to forgive me for not being there what happened. I feel terrible that you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain. But I’m absolutely sure that whatever you said last night was provoked– even deserved. And everyone says things they regret when they’re worried or stressed. You were expecting to see someone you trusted, and met an enemy instead. It’s really my fault. Someday, I’ll explain everything. Meanwhile, I’m still here. Talk to me. <3

Adrien sighed, hitting the send button. That email wasn’t much, but in the meantime, he hoped it would be enough.

“– And you’re sure he didn’t say anything about trying to meet up again?” Alya prodded. 

Marinette shook her head, “Not really. It doesn’t matter, anymore, anyway. We’ll just be like George Bernard Shaw and Mrs. Patrick Campbell and write letters our whole lives,” 

They walked up to Marinette and Tikki’s apartment. They piled into the elevator, and Marinette quickly unlocked the door, inhaling the calming scent of freshly baked bread. It reminded her of her father’s bakery. 

She smiled fondly at the photo of Marinette and her boyfriend, Plagg. They’d been dating for nearly four years now, and as soon as their separate apartment contracts expired they were planning on moving in together. 

“Where was this taken?” She asked, picking the photo up. 

Tikki was resting on Plagg’s back, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. Plagg was looking up at her and Tikki’s chin was resting on his forehead. In the background was an ocean and boardwalk, lights shining in the distance. 

“Oh!” Tikki smiled, crimson red hair flowing over her shoulders, “That was taken in California at the Santa Monica Pier. We went there over the summer last year.” 

Marinette giggled, “Aww, you guys are so cute!” 

“Yeah. I’m really glad I met him,” Tikki’s sweet smile turned slightly sad, “Have you decided what to do yet?” 

“I–” She sighed, slumping in on herself, “Close. We’re going to have to close down the store,” 

“Close?” Alya whispered, slinging an arm around Marinette’s 

Feeling the tears gathering in her eyes, Marinette collapsed down onto the sofa, letting out a low sob. “I can’t help but feel like such a– a failure. It feels like I’m quitting. It feels like I’m letting go of Mom… and oh god, she would be so disappointed…”  

Tikki shook her head, “Oh, Mar, keeping the store open doesn’t keep your mother alive, even though I know we all think that’s true sometimes. Our memories of her– that’s what keeps her alive.”

Later that day, Marinette thought back to the email she’d sent Chat Noir, watching the flurry of customers enter and exit the store; everything now on discount since they were closing. 

To: Chat Noir

From: Ladybug

Chaton, 

My store is closing this week. Did I ever tell you that? Probably not. But, I own a store. It’s a really lovely store, and in a week it will be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap or something. I’m trying to be brave; I really am. Soon we’ll be just a memory. In fact, someone, some foolish person will probably think that the whole idea is a tribute to the city; the way it keeps changing you– the way you can never count on it or something. I know because that’s the sort of thing I’m always saying. 

But I don’t feel like that now. The truth is, I’m heartbroken. I feel like a part of me has died, and my mother’s died all over again, and part of childhood has died with it. It feels like no one can ever make this right. I wish you were here with me. 

Marinette stood the cash register, checking out people; all of them with fond memories. An older woman dropped a stack of books on the counter. 

She gave Marinette a sympathetic smile, “This is a tragedy,” Marinette watched as she turned back to a man standing by one of the shelves, “Honey! Grab a copy of Les Mis for me!” 

A new man walked up to her, “What are you going to do after this?” 

“I don’t know,” Marinette shrugged, “I’m going to take some time off. I have a little money saved up. I’m almost looking forward to it–” 

She nearly choked on her words, feeling tears well up in her eyes. 

It was then that a woman– only a few years older than Marinette– walked up to her, tears streaming down her face, “I came here every Saturday when I was a little girl, you know? I still remember the day when your mother gave me Little Women. “Read it with a box of tissues on hand” that’s what she told me.” 

The man standing next to her piped up, “She’s looking down on you right now,” 

“I hope she’s proud,” Marinette whispered, tears falling down her cheeks, “I really hope she is,”

Even though Miraculous Books closing was supposed to be a victory for the Agreste family and their business, Adrien couldn’t help but feel awfully guilty as he read the latest email from Marinette. He hit reply, trying to come up with some email that sounded sincere about how sorry he was. 

I’m sorry

“Way to be eloquent about it,” Adrien hissed, aware that he probably shouldn’t be talking to himself in the middle of a crowded bakery. 

I really don’t know what to say. Truly, I don’t. And anything I say will sound ridiculous and insincere, especially over email, but I really am sorry. I hope you feel better. 

He rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair. 

It was then that Chloé stalked up behind him, “Adrikins! Come on, it’s time to go back to your apartment!” 

She nearly pulled the chair out from underneath him, and Adrien sighed, standing up and placing his laptop back into his bag. 

Staring out numbly as Chloé called for a taxi, he allowed himself to zone out as she continued talking to him– about what, he wasn’t sure. 

Only briefly did he catch her saying Marinette’s name, but he snapped back into attention, “I’m sorry, what?” 

Chloé rolled her eyes, picking at her nails, “I was saying that she’d probably make a great children’s book editor,” 

Adrien frowned, “Why would you think that?” 

The taxi pulled up in front of Adrien’s apartment, and they both exited from the car. Chloé flipped her blonde ponytail behind her, “She knows everything. She has flawless taste; she’s practically famous for it. All the salesmen swear by her. If she likes it, it sells. Period.” 

The two entered the lobby and began walking toward the elevator and Adrien gave Chloé a worried look. “So you’re going to offer her a job?” 

“Why not?” She shrugged, “What else has she got to do?” 

Adrien shrugged, “Well I’m assuming not much, now that she’s destitute–” 

“–Thanks to you,” Chloé interjected. 

Trying to ignore the vision of Marinette saying goodbye the shop he knew meant so much to her in his head, Adrien shook his head, “Well, I can’t imagine her working for you,” 

Chloé raised her eyebrows, “And why is that?” 

“She has a horrible personality,” Adrien said, trying to come up with Marinette’s negative traits– surely she had some, he’d been complaining about her for months, “She’s… nice to everyone. All the time. And her staff turnover is non-existent. They’ve been there forever. Well until recently… when they all found out they were going to lose their jobs,” 

“Thanks to you,” Chloé repeated, catching sight of the elevator doors closing, “Hey!” She barked, “Hold the doors!” 

The two of them made their way in, glancing to find Kim and Kagami inside with them. 

Adrien smiled politely, “Hello Kim, Kagami,” 

“Last time we were in an elevator together, we made the deal of the century,” Chloé said, “I wonder what will happen this time.” 

Kim grinned, gently shoving Kagami’s shoulder, “Miss Tsurugi’s going to get me a part in one of her movies, that’s what’s going to happen,” 

The woman in question rolled her eyes, “In your dreams, Kim,” 

Clearly bored with making conversation with Kagami and Kim, Chloé turned back to him, pulling him back into their previous conversation, “I love how you’ve totally forgotten that you had any role in her current situation. It’s so obtuse. It reminds me of someone … who? Who does it remind me of?” She paused for a moment, “Me!” 

It was then that the elevator stopped, as though it was as done with Chloé as Adrien was at the moment. 

“Merde!” Chloé exclaimed, stomping angrily. 

“Do you think it’s stuck?” Kim asked. 

Kagami looked around the elevator, seemingly studying it, “It definitely could be,” 

Adrien sighed, leaning up against the wall as Kim stepped toward the elevator doors. He pushed the open button, waiting for something to happen, although nothing did. He flicked the emergency switch and then began hitting all of the floor buttons. 

“Kim what are you doing?” Adrien hissed. 

Kim turned back to look at him, a panicked expression on his face, “I don’t know!” 

Grimacing, Adrien picked up the emergency telephone, “This is Adrien Agreste. Who is this? Hi, Victor. Yes, we’re stuck between the sixth and seventh floor. There are four of us in here–” 

Chloé made a grab for the phone, screaming into it, “If you don’t get your asses up here right now to help and get us out I swear I’ll–” 

“Yeah okay thank you so much. Bye!” Adrien grabbed the phone back and hung up before looking back at the other people in the elevator, “They’ll be here soon. Best thing is just to stay calm,” 

The four of them shared nervous looks, but sunk down to the floor of the elevator.

Kagami sighed, “If I ever get out of here, I’d like to start talking with my mother again. I know she only wanted what was best for me. Maybe I should’ve been more understanding of that. I hope it’s not too late for us to try again,” 

“If I ever get out…” Kim paused, trying to figure out what he’d want to do. 

Chloé rolled her eyes, reapplying a thick coat of mascara, “If I ever get out of here, I’m having my eyes lasered.” 

Kim shook his head before smiling brightly, “I’m going to marry Alix. I love her. I should marry her. I don’t know what’s been stopping me,” 

He took out his wallet and showed a picture to Adrien, a pink-haired woman smiling brightly up at him. 

“If I ever get out of here–” Adrien paused and frowned, sneaking a glance at Chloé, who was fishing through her purse. 

She glared at him accusingly, “Do you know where my Tic-Tacs are?” Adrien shook his head, “Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous!”

Later that evening, Adrien sighed, typing out his newest email to Marinette. He wondered why he was still talking to her, even though he knew that she hated him offline. 

I came home tonight and got into the elevator to go to my apartment. An hour later, I came out single. Suddenly, it seemed like everything in my life became clear. It’s a really long story, though. Full of all those personal details we try so carefully to avoid, but… I tried to think of who I could talk to about this, and the only person I could think of was you. 

I hope you’re doing alright.

Marinette had been sick for days, and honestly, she was ready to fall into a coma. Sleep deprivation did not sit well with her, and if she had to buy one more tissue box, she was going to lose it. 

And, because the universe liked testing her, this was obviously the time her intercom had to ring. She slowly made her way over, wrapping her sweater tighter around her. “Who is it?” 

 Someone cleared their throat, and then, in a nervous voice, “Adrien Agreste,” 

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, and she wrinkled her nose, “What are you doing here?” 

“May I please come up?” 

Trying to keep her internal panic at bay, Marinette took in the state of her apartment. There were tissues littering the table, at five mugs strewn around the living room, and she was still in her pajamas, for Christ’s sake, “Uh, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” 

When silence followed, Marinette continued, “I’ve got a terrible cold– I’m sure you can hear it, right? I’m sniffling and not really awake. And I’m practically sleeping twenty-four hours a day, I’m on a ton of echinacea and vitamin C, and my voice is really nasally right now, so you probably don’t want to hear me talk anyway. You should really just come another day–” 

She was interrupted by a knock at the front door, startling her so much she jumped. Marinette looked out through the peephole, and sure enough, there was Adrien. 

“Marinette?” 

“Uhh, just a second!” She called out, rushing to clean up her mess of an apartment, grateful she had managed to get Tikki to go back to her work today. 

The mess of tissues made their way into the trash can, empty mugs into the sink, and her rat’s nest of hair up into a bun. Then she pulled open the door, standing face to face with Adrien, who was holding… were those peonies? 

“Hello,” He said awkwardly. 

Marinette frowned, “What are you doing here?” 

Adrien shrugged, stepping into her apartment, “I heard you were sick and I was worried. I wanted to–” He paused for a second, tilting her head to the side, “Is someone else here?” 

“Just the Home Shopping Network,” 

Raising his eyebrows, Adrien smiled, “Bought any porcelain dolls?” 

“I was thinking about it,” Marinette dead-panned, her expression growing more serious, “You put me out of business–” 

“– I know that–” 

“– And now you come here with flowers? Did you seriously turn up just to gloat?” She exclaimed, throwing her arms up, “It’s not enough that you’ve ruined my life, now you’ve got to brag about it too?” 

“I… no, of course not, I wouldn’t–” Adrien said. 

Marinette rolled her eyes, “– To offer me a job?” 

“– No, I wouldn’t think of–” 

“– Because I have plans,” She said, “I really do. I have lots of job offers. I’ve been offered a job by, well actually by–” 

Adrien let out a weary sigh, “My ex-girlfriend, I know,” 

Marinette’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion, “Ex?” 

“I thought I would all over the tabloids already,” Adrien raised his eyebrows, “We broke up,” 

“Well that’s too bad,” She said sarcastically, “You two seemed so perfect for each other,” Marinette immediately clapped her hands over her mouth, guilt rushing through her body, “I don’t mean to say things like that. No matter what you’ve done to me, there’s no excuse for me saying anything like that. But it’s like every time I see you–” 

“– they just fly out of your mouth,” Adrien finished for her, a wry grin on his face. 

Nodding timidly, Marinette sighed, “Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll, just uh, start over. Thank you for coming. Goodbye,” The words were too sharp, she immediately realized, so she softened her voice and tried again. “Thank you for coming, Adrien. But I really think you should go,” 

She began reaching for the doorknob when Adrien interrupted her. 

“I brought flowers,” 

“Right,” Marinette said softly, trying to be polite, “Thank you,” 

She reached out to take them from him, but he pulled his hand back. At her disgruntled expression, he elaborated. 

“I should probably put these in water,” 

He made his way into the kitchen, for a second, Marinette just stared at him, stunned by his kindness. After a few beats, she followed him in. 

When she arrived, Adrien was checking her tea kettle for water and turning on the stove. He turned back to her, giving her a gentle smile, “You’re sick. Sit down, please,” 

He pulled out a kitchen chair for her, and Marinette sat down, feeling her head spin slightly. 

“Vase?”

Marinette jutted her chin toward one of the cabinets, “Upper left,” 

The vase he pulled out was one of her favorites, a spring green color with a water-painted effect on it, and handled it carefully as he filled it up with water. 

“Nathaniel says hello, by the way. He’s the one who told me you weren’t feeling well.” Adrien said, sitting down in the chair across from her.

Marinette perked up at the mention of Nath. She’d nearly forgotten that he’d been offered a job at Agreste’s Books. “How is he?” 

“Oh, he’s doing great!” Adrien grinned. “He’s revolutionizing the place. No one is allowed to work in his department if they don’t have a Ph.D. in children’s literature.” 

He began wrapping the flowers from their paper, revealing that they were peonies, just like Marinette had thought. 

Smiling wistfully, Marinette thought back to her handkerchief that her mother had embroidered for her– peonies and her initials, M.D.C. “I love peonies,” 

The corners of Adrien’s eyes wrinkled as his smile widened, “You told me,” 

He placed the vase on her kitchen table, and Marinette reached out to stroke the silky pink petals. 

“They’re very beautiful,” Marinette rambled, “Don’t you think peonies are just the most most beautiful flowers?” 

“I do,” 

Marinette pouted, “When did you two break up?” 

“Oh,” Adrien waved his hand through the air, “Just a couple of weeks ago,” 

She propped her head up on her fist, “Everyone is breaking up. You. Me. Did you know I had a boyfriend? His name was Luka– well, still is– but anyway he’s not my boyfriend anymore. Turns out, he wasn’t in love with me. And I wasn’t in love with him, either. And this other person I know broke up with someone in an elevator. Well, I think it was in an elevator. Or just outside it. Or after they got out of it. It got stuck, I think. And suddenly, everything became clear. When I saw you, at the coffee place, I was waiting for him, and I was–”  

“– charming,” Adrien grinned. 

Marinette shook her head. She remembered that night vividly, she had been rather cruel to Adrien, and most certainly not charming. “I was not charming,” 

He raised his eyebrows, “Well, you looked charming.” 

The teakettle whistled, interrupting the two of them. Adrien got up and turned off the burner. 

“Tea?” He asked, picking up one of the few clean mugs in the kitchen. 

Marinette nodded, her head growing foggy at the movement, “Yes please. The tea bags are in the upper right cabinet,” 

As Adrien puttered around the kitchen, Marinette continued on, “I was upset, and I was horrible,” 

“Honey?” 

Marinette blinked the fuzzy black dots out of her eyes. “Yes, please.” 

Either he was a brilliant guesser or he somehow knew exactly how she liked her tea, because he placed in two spoonfuls and then placed it in front of her. 

Shaking his head, Adrien sat back down in front of her, “I was horrible,” 

“True,” Marinette shrugged, “But I have no excuse,” 

With her tea in one hand, she carefully maneuvered the vase of peonies into her other before moving into the living room, and placing it down on the side table there. Adrien followed her in, and they both sat down on the sofa. 

He raised his eyebrows at her, “Whereas I am a horrible person and have no choice but to be horrible. Is that what you’re saying?” 

“No,” Marinette said indignantly, “No I am not saying that, because I’m done saying horrible things. Even to you.” 

To his credit, Adrien didn’t seem too offended, merely pointing out, “You did it again,”

Clapping her hand over her mouth, Marinette felt blush spread across her cheeks. She felt completely embarrassed that she had said something so awful to him. 

“I put you out of business,” Adrien explained, “You’re entitled to hate,” 

Marinette frowned, “I don’t hate you–”

“But you’ll never forgive me. That’s your fatal flaw,”

“I’m sorry, what?” Marinette asked, she tapped her fingers on the armrest of the sofa. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You know, every character has a fatal flaw,” Adrien explained, “It’s the same with people. It’s like Sydney Carton, his fatal flaw was love. And look where that got him.” 

Marinette frowned, “I thought you hated A Tale of Two Cities ,” 

“But who knows. Maybe everyone’s supposed to have some fatal flaw. It’s sort of what makes us human, I guess.” He paused for a moment, “It wasn’t personal–”

“– it was business,” Marinette finished for him, “And what’s that supposed to mean anyway? I am so sick of that. All it means is that it’s not personal to you. But it’s personal to me; it’s personal to a lot of people.” She shrugged, feeling helpless, “What’s so wrong with personal, anyway?” 

“Well, I don’t think anything is wrong with personal,” 

Marinette rolled her eyes, “I mean, whatever else anything is. It ought to begin by being personal. Especially when the thing you’re doing to someone else is very personal.”

Trying to ignore the pounding in her head, Marinette stood up and took the peonies with her, “My head’s starting to feel funny. I have to go back to bed,” 

Although he was most certainly skeptical, Adrien nodded and stood up to accompany her there. Her brain felt fuzzy and she stumbled slightly on her way, causing Adrien to hold onto her arm the rest of the way there. 

She put the peonies next to her bed, and stumbled her way into it. She sunk down into the pillows, tucking the blanket up underneath her chin. Feeling the itching of her nose, she prepared herself for another sneeze. Her nose collided with the corner of her elbow, and Adrien let out a muffled laugh. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” He said sheepishly, “Bless you,” 

Marinette’s brow furrowed, “Why did you stop by again? I forget,” 

“I wanted to be your friend,” Adrien said softly. 

A fresh wave of guilt washed over Marinette. She had insulted him, what?, twice when he came over, and he just wanted to be her friend. “Oh…” 

He gave her a sad smile, tucking the hair that had fallen into her eyes back behind her ear, “I knew it wasn’t possible. But what can I say? Sometimes a person just wants the impossible. Could I ask you something?” 

She nodded, “What?” 

“What happened with that guy at the cafe?” Adrien asked gently. 

“Nothing,”

Adrien raised his eyebrows, “But you’re crazy about him,”

“Yeah,” Marinette let out a wistful sighed, “Yeah, I am,” 

“Then why don’t you run off with him?” Adrien prodded. “What are you waiting for?” 

Biting her lip, Marinette tried to come up with a reasonable response. She came up with nothing, and sighed, “I don’t actually know him,” 

“Really?” 

She nodded, “We only know each other– oh god, you’re not going to believe this– through the, uh–” 

“Let me guess,” Adrien said, “From the internet,” 

“Yeah,”

“You’ve Got Mail,” 

Marinette smiled, “Yeah,” 

“Pretty powerful words, huh?” 

Marinette bit her lip before nodding again, “Yeah. They really are,” 

Adrien sat down on the edge of her bed, a small smile playing across his lips, “I’m happy for him. Although, do you think I could make a little suggestion? I think you should meet him. Well unless you don’t want to. And, I mean, why would you?” 

“I hardly think I need advice from someone who–” Marinette’s sharp retort was cut off by Adrien’s hand against her lips. 

She knew that they were supposed to be enemies, but Marinette couldn’t deny that she really wished he’d used his mouth instead of his hand to shut her up. 

“I’ll concede that I bring out the worst in you, but let me help you not to say something you’ll just torture yourself for years to come,” Adrien gently, spring green eyes– her favorite color, she vaguely noted– looking into her eyes. 

A small smile began pulling at her lips, and he removed his hand. 

“I hope you’re better soon. It would be a shame to miss Paris in the springtime,” Adrien said, rising from the end of her bed. 

He began to make his way to the front door, pausing with his hand hovering over the doorknob, “Take care,” 

“I will,” 

He gave her one last smile, “Goodbye, Marinette,” 

Marinette cleared her throat, ignoring the blush steadily staining her cheeks red, “Bye, Adrien,”

Adrien was just scanning through his emails when he received the email that made his jaw drop. 

“Oh, what is it this time?” Plagg moaned, “What has lovebug said now?” 

His head snapped up, keeping his eyes on the email in front of him, “Nothing, Plagg! No need to worry about it!” 

To: Chat Noir

From: Ladybug

Subject: Second Chance? 

Hi, Chaton. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I think that we should try to meet. 

Panic flooded through him, and his fingers shook as he went to type out the reply. As much as he wanted to meet Marinette and have her know that he was Chat Noir, he was still very worried at how she would react to such news. 

To: Ladybug

From: Chat Noir

Re: Second Chance? 

We should meet. And one day, we will. But right now I’m in the middle of a project that needs tweaking. 

Later in the week, Adrien ran into Marinette at the coffee shop. A coincidence, honest– it’s not like he knew her favorite coffee shop and her favorite time in the afternoon and that she was prone to visit on this day more than any other. 

Nope. He definitely did not take all of these facts into account. 

Surprisingly, Marinette invited him to sit next to her, and soon enough she had told him about the newest email he– sorry, Chat Noir– had sent her. 

“Tweaking?” Adrien asked. 

Marinette nodded, laughing lightly, “Yeah, that’s what he said,” 

He raised his eyebrows, “You know what? He’s probably married.” 

“That is a horrible thing to say,” Marinette gasped, “No, of course, he’s not married.” 

Shrugging, Adrien took a sip of his coffee, “Well, have you asked him. Have you ever said, ‘Are you married?’” 

“No,” She said uncertainly. 

Adrien just looked at her and shrugged again, “I’m just saying. You never really know.” 

Meanwhile, she bit her bottom lip nervously before shaking her head at him, “You’re impossible,” 

“Awww…” He cooed, “Thanks, Princess,” 

“I hate you,” Marinette deadpanned. 

Sure enough, that night Adrien had a new email waiting in his mailbox. 

Subject: Hi uh weird question

Hey Chaton! I know it’s probably a little late to be asking this question, but are you married? 

Trying to muffle his laughter so as not to annoy Plagg, who was currently on the phone with his girlfriend, he quickly typed out a response. 

Re: Hi uh weird question

Am I married? What kind of question is that? How can you ask me that? Do you seriously not know me at all? Oh, wait… let me guess. All your friends are telling you that the reason we haven’t met is that I’m married. Am I right?

That weekend, the two of them met up for lunch. Not that they’d agreed to meet there or anything. Nope. It was a complete and total coincidence that the both ended up at the same place at the same time. 

“So what you’re saying is that he didn’t really answer the question,” Adrien said, trying to keep a smug grin off his face. 

“He did too!” Marinette protested, “He totally pegged me! He knew exactly what I was up to. Which is just totally like him, I’ll have you know,”

Adrien raised his eyebrows, “But he didn’t exactly answer, did he?” When Marinette didn’t answer, he prodded again, “Did he?”  

“Well, no…” Marinette pouted. 

“Maybe he’s fat,” He suggested. 

As he picked up his drink, it nearly burned his hands and he lifted it up to cover his lips, which were very quickly forming a smile. 

Marinette rolled her eyes, “I don’t care about that sort of thing. I’m sure he knows that.” 

“Well, why else do you think he’s putting off meeting you?” Adrien asked, taking a sip of his coffee and immediately gagging, “Oh crap I forgot to put sugar in this, didn’t I?” 

A smirk appeared on Marinette’s face, “You might have,”

“Oh, nevermind that,” Adrien frowned, “You know maybe, he really does want to meet you. Maybe…” 

Marinette’s head snapped up, “What?” 

“Nevermind,” Adrien shook his head. 

“No, what is it?” 

Adrien tried to act serious as he replied, “Maybe he’s waiting until he’s paroled.” 

Despite his expectations of Marinette’s panicking, instead, she just let out a laugh, “Oh, you won’t believe this. There was a moment when Nath thought that Chat might be Hawk Moth– the thief you know?– which was completely ridiculous–” 

“What’s his handle?” 

Marinette looked at him like he was crazy, shaking her head, “No way,” 

“Oh come on,” Adrien groaned, “It’s not like I’m going to write him, if that’s what you’re worried about,” 

“Chat Noir,” 

Adrien smiled, “Chat Noir. Black Cat. Very interesting. Maybe he’s really unlucky. He could be bad luck, Mari. Oh, or maybe he’s actually a black cat. Or he used to be a human, but he was cursed into a black cat,” 

The week passed by, and Adrien couldn’t help but make stupid jokes about his email name. 

“He’s got a bunch of black cats,” He guessed. 

Marinette shook her head, playfully checking his shoulder with her own, “He’s saved a bunch of black cats’ lives heroically,”

“He coughs up hairballs like a cat,” 

At this one, Marinette narrowed her eyes at him, “He purrs like a cat,” 

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Adrien asked, nearly coughing up the sip of water he’d just swallowed. 

Marinette just shrugged, “I don’t know. Oh… or maybe a black cat was his first pet!” She shook her head, “No, he’d never do anything that prosaic,” 

Adrien did his best not to look wounded, knowing that his nickname was chosen for exactly that reason, and he had, in fact, done something that prosaic. 

“Besides,” Marinette continued on, “The only thing I really care about besides the married thing… oh, and the jail thing, is the boat thing,” 

“The boat thing?” 

Marinette nodded, “Yep. I could never be with anyone who owned a boat. So that cements it, really. We’ll never be together.” She glanced down at the multiple bags Adrien was carrying, before picking up a few of them, “I’ll take care of these,” 

Adrien shook his head, trying to find a ripe mango, “I could never be with anyone who likes Joni Mitchell. What do her lyrics even mean?” 

He looked over at her, knowing that Marinette was actually very fond of Joni Mitchell, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she was picking over apples. 

“How’s your book coming?” 

At this, Marinette immediately perked up, “Oh! Well, there’s this book editor I know from the store, and she’s really excited to read it. When I finish it, obviously. And I mean, who would ever have thought that I’d write? Honestly, if I didn’t have all this free time, I never would have discovered–” Realizing what she was implying, Marinette stopped, before speaking more softly this time, “The truth is, he was the one who made me start thinking about writing,” 

“– Mister Bad Luck–” 

Marinette shook her head, “Mister… Yin to My Yang.”

“Touche,” Adrien grinned, “Can’t compete with that one,” 

As she loaded up her bags from the Farmer’s Market, Marinette smiled over at him, “Well, I keep bumping into you. Hope your mango is ripe,” 

“I think it is,” He responded, “Want to bump into me again on Saturday? Around lunchtime?” 

Marinette’s smile widened, “Yeah. I’ll see you then,”

That night, Adrien stared at his computer screen, checking and double-checking the email he was about to send. 

To: Ladybug

From: Chat Noir

Subject: Finally

How about we meet Saturday? It’s the first day of spring, you know. Maybe around 4 in the afternoon? There’s a place in Parc des Buttes Chaumont on the north side, where the path curves just around the lake. When you come around the curve, you’ll find me waiting with Félix. 

He sighed, leaning back in his chair and hoping that everything would go to plan. 

Sure enough, Marinette had replied enthusiastically to his email and before he knew it, Saturday had rolled around. 

“So you two are meeting today?” Adrien asked as he took a bite out of his sandwich. 

Marinette nodded, her smile incredibly wide, “Today,” 

“Wow,” 

“I know, right?” Marinette gushed, “We’re meeting in Parc des Buttes Chaumont. Which is crazy because that’s right near my house. Maybe I’ve even seen him, and never even known it!” 

“Oh!” Adrien exclaimed, “Maybe he’s that Pigeon Guy!” 

Marinette wrinkled her nose, “I’m sorry, what?” 

“You know, that guy who’s always at the parks and talking to pigeons. He names them all, too,” 

“Stop teasing,” She pouted. 

Adrien shrugged, “You know, timing is everything. He waited until you were ready. Until you were sure that there was no one else you could love but him.” 

“Yeah, I guess he did,” Marinette nodded wistfully. 

“Sometimes I wonder…” 

She turned to him, even after only a few weeks already completely in tune with his emotions, “What?” 

“If I hadn’t been Agreste’s Books, and you hadn’t been Miraculous and we’d just met–” 

Marinette shook her head, “Oh, please don’t,” 

“I would’ve asked for your phone number and I wouldn’t have been able to wait even twenty-four hours before calling and asking, “How about coffee, drinks, dinner, a movie, whatever you want for as long as we both shall live?” 

Tears began welling in Marinette’s eyes, “Adrien…” 

“And we never would have been at war,” He said sadly. 

“No,” Marinette agreed, “We wouldn’t have.” 

Adrien continued forward, recalling all of the daydreams he’d had recently about the possibility of a future with Marinette, “The only fights we’d ever have we be about what movie to go see in theatres on a Friday night,” 

Marinette gave a tearful laugh, “What sort of couple fights about that?” 

“Some people,” Adrien shrugged, giving her a small smile, “But not us,” 

“Never us,” She nodded.

He sighed, “If only…” 

They both paused for a moment, and when Adrien noticed all the tears running down her cheeks, it was all he could do to stop himself from kissing them away. From kissing her. 

“I have to go,” Marinette said, slipping her hand out of his. “You know I do,” 

“Let me ask you something first?” She nodded. “How come you’ll forgive him for standing you up, and you won’t forgive me? I’m trying,” He said honestly, “I’m trying to make it up to you.” 

Marinette just looked at him, one hand clamped over her mouth as she shook her head. 

“I wish you would.” He said simply. “You have to go,” Adrien reminded her. 

She nodded numbly, standing up from their table slowly, “Right. I wouldn’t want to be late.” 

And as she walked away from him, the only thing keeping Adrien’s heart from breaking was the knowledge that he’d see her again soon.

Marinette walked toward the park, desperately trying to keep her thoughts in check. It might not be Adrien, she reminded herself. It’s probably not Adrien. But despite her better judgement, her heart wanted it so badly to be him– had convinced herself it was. 

She approached the curve near the lake, just like Chat had told her to, looking around desperately. 

Blonde hair, spring green eyes, that smile she used to hate but now loved. Please. Please, let him be the one. 

A woman jogging passed her by, and Marinette stared out the lake, feeling her eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. 

A young man pushing a baby stroller approached, giving her a sympathetic glance as he wandered towards the picnic benches. 

Checking her watch, Marinette saw that it was only a minute past four. A minute was barely anything. A minute could be double-checking to make sure you hadn’t left the stove on. It wouldn’t be like last. He’d be here. 

Her head snapped up as she heard a dog barking. She turned wildly in the direction of the noise, taking in the yellow lab a few feet in front of her. Pale yellow fur. Dark grey eyes. 

“ Félix! Félix!” 

Marinette knew that voice. She caught sight of his untidy mop of golden hair first. Then his spring green eyes. The smile she loved so much. She couldn’t help it as she burst into tears, Adrien immediately rushing to comfort her. 

His arms went around her waist and she buried her head into the crook of his neck as she sobbed. 

“Oh, don’t cry,” Adrien said, thumbs rubbing circles on the small of her back, “Don’t cry, My Lady,”

She looked up at him, a smile so wide it hurt stretching across her face despite the tears, “I wanted it to be you, Adrien. I wanted it to be you so badly,” 

And then he leaned in, drawing her closer to him as his lips finally, finally found hers. Sure, it had taken rival bookstores, a pair of alter-ego email addresses, and ultimately a really bad cold to bring them together, but as Marinette stood there, kissing the person she was so sure was the love of her life on a beautiful spring day, she realized it was worth every last second.