Chapter Text
The classroom was quiet enough to seem abandoned of everything living. Mendeliev, eyes intent enough to make students shake out of their chairs in fear, took one lasting look at each of them and crossed her spindly arms. Marinette hardly even dared to breathe, feeling ghastly faint.
,,This will be a task for groups of two to present to me tomorrow,” another lingering sweep over the room and someone in the back of class not quite stifles a whimper. Not that she can blame him. ,,I well hope I must not repeat that your presentation on Maxwell’s electromagnetic theory of light could ruin your mark for another whole period,” their teacher pauses once as if surprised by a not so morbid thought, ,,or not so quite,”
Again silence drags on, and students begin to twitch around nervously obviously unsettled, when Mendeliev claps loud, causing almost everybody to flinch simultaneously, a feral grin of sadistic glee stretching her pointy face. Her disheveled hair, probably never brushed in a life time, only adds to the over all crazed look on her. ,,Begin now please,” she croons.
Immediately some snap into action, the either incredibly hopeful to survive (Rose, bless a kind soul) or the god-loved geniuses of their school, who excell in anything they touch (Adrien and Max, both probably not entirely human), while the rest is starting to think of things to do before they’ll die. Go sky-diving maybe, for Kim, who’s looking much too happy for the situation, or purchase half of Paris‘ clothing, in the case of Chloe, whose face is stuck between something akin to near-terror and half-arsed smugness.
Marinette, on the other hand, not quite optimistic enough to hope, turns to her desk buddy, the unspoken question probably obviously bright in her eyes.
Nino, she finds is already looking back at her, perfectly mirroring her own pitiful expression of helplessness, and seeming to come to a quick conclusion, raises his hand for a fist bump. ,,If we go down, we go down together?” he asks, smiling despite himself.
Mendeliev may have turned her hot glare on her for it, but Marinette finds that she does not stammer quite that much as always when asked a question. Nino somehow can always make her laugh even when she is about to get lanced with a metal ruler and sacrificed in the names of science.
Which when she thinks of it, she should train herself out of, because Mendeliev is still very much barmy and scary when staring into your soul, dissecting you mentally and glaring as if hoping to set you aflame with a thought.
________
,,Nino,”
Marinette pokes her unresponsive, unofficial and not yet legally adoptive brother with a huff, wishing she sat down next to him, so she could ram her elbow into his ribs. They have conquered a table in the dining hall in hopes to start on their school work, but ever since Nino checked his phone, he didn’t resurface still after twenty minutes. Which was strange, even for Nino, who ate with his phone, cried on his phone and slept with his headphones on, so he could listen to the music from his phone.
,,Hey, bro, dude, we’ve got loads of homework to do, if you recall? Physics for example, literature, an essay in English, and also I don’t know, physics for example,”
,,Mhm,” he merely mhm’s at her, eyes still glued to the bright screen.
She purses her lips at his non-answer and makes a grab for the object of his obsession, only for him to fluidly retract it out of her reach. He still doesn’t glance up, and Marinette considers how long a detention she’d get for launching herself at a classmate from across a table with a street-fighters-worthy battle cry. Probably not more than a two hours at most. If she’d be lucky that is, which she normally is not at all.
So, no jumping for now then. She’ll leave that part for when pulverizing said best friend in Ultimate Mecha Strike and non-subtly basking in her glory later after school.
Half-heartedly, she tried to steal his phone again, knowing he’s well versed in dodging her grabby fingers already after years of training, and decides to level up her tactics. Some subtly applied manipulation maybe? With a hint of a threat to spice it up?
,,Nino, I swear to you, pay attention to me this instant, or I’ll throw a crying fit right here and embarrass you when you’ll start wailing as well, because you’re a sentimental idiot and my loyal bro,”
Perfect.
His head of dark curls, hidden under the red of his cap, snaps up quick enough to cause some disorientation, maybe. He certainly is blinking rapidly enough, to make her suspect it.
,,You wouldn’t dare,” he gasps, mock insulted. His phone rests on the table now, screen down, hand on top and she fights hard not to let the victory show on her face.
She blinks back at him innocently, suppressing a grin. ,,Wouldn’t I?”
,,No,” he conters, gradually relaxing, because recognizing her farce now easily. ,,You wouldn’t because you hate being in the middle of public’s attention even more than I do, and that’s a hard one to top, dudette,”
,,Alright,” she allows and leans back, resting her legs on top of his for good measure. He copies her stance, stubborn as hell just like she, and frowns down at her as he kicks her feet off of his in some act of delayed vengeance. Without much care, she barely rolls her eyes at him and tucks them back.
,,Alright,” Nino echoes, meeting her stare with one his. After several long moments, he picks up one his grapes, pops it into his mouth and chooses and holds out another one like the offer of peace that it is. She eats it, even if only for the acidic, sugary taste on her tongue, but waits for him to speak, knowing he will.
,,Alright, we’ll meet at yours to do Physics and I’ll do most of the research, but,” he points his finger, pointing up. ,,But, you’ll do the shadowing on my pictures for art class and bring me my faves for two weeks,”
She twists her mouth, partially for show, and also hoping to draw time to assess the stakes. His ,faves’, as he has affectionately named them, are the caramel, pecan and pistachio cookies, she had somehow ended up successfully baking for his thirteenth birthday first, and still he couldn’t be convinced to change his mind on them, no matter the choice on evidently divine sweets presented.
For some reason, he has since then, choosen them to be his all time favorite snack and now, he pelts her on them whenever the occasion rises to do some quick and easy blackmail. It would annoy her maybe, the rudeness, if it wasn’t so damn flattering and so very sweetly Nino.
But in the end, not much time spent thinking because it’s Physics and she has like literally no choice, one of her treats, a slice of orange, wanders from her hand to his, and Nino grimaces at the overly sour sensation, but hardheadedly chews through it and rinses his mouth with some water afterwards to clean it.
,,You’ve got yourself a deal, study buddy,“ she smiles across the table, holding out her palm up first.
Nino grins, clapping on her hand with his darker one as per tradition, and picks up one of her pink gel pens. ,,Gimme that Physics work sheet you got there, Mari, this study buddy is about to save your whole fashion carrer,“
Some time later, Marinette has worked through a heavy text on literature in the eightenth century and dispaired spectaculary despite finishing it while Nino‘s attention switched from the tasks on Maxwell‘s delightful theory to the booming music blasting from his headphones and back all over again. At some point, she wandered from her bench to his and stole one of his ear phones, so she could listen to the music herself and try not to sleep in, while resting against Nino‘s hard and bony shoulder, that sometimes jerks when the music reaches one of his particular beloved phases.
Even if the beat was perhaps too loud and rapid to really relax under it and Nino’s shoulder bone was digging uncomfortably into her cheek, she still had a hard time not knocking out dead. She probably could have slept in to the sounds of her father‘s snoring or a rocket start, and wouldn‘t mind. It was the comfortable atmosphere of working in companionable silence, that was making her want to lie down somewhere and ditch classes in favor of taking a glorious nap.
Not that she could allow herself such luxury, she was a tolerable student at best, but still the possibility was undeniably there, lying on Nino‘s shoulder, in the warmth of his skin through the fabric, and she graciously snuggled into it with a hum.
,,Hey, sleepy head,” The body she was resting on, suddenly gave another jerk, shoulder shrugging and she whined her protest, hands coming up to hold her fleshy pillow still.
,,What,” she mumbles at him, knowing damn well, he won’t leave her alone until he got to tell what he wanted. He was too much like her in this; impatient and a nuisance and once again, she curses how well the shared childhood seemed to have adjusted them to each other. They may have had their fun with sharing their brain cells when it came to pranking their parents or speaking in mere glances over the kitchen table, but at times like these she could do very well without the split ownership.
Nino coughs suspiciously, and she doesn’t need to look to guess what kind of stupid face he’s doing at her. She can practically feel the smugness of his grinning, polluting the air. It made her want to pinch his waist, hard.
,,Guess who’s staring at you again?”
Not quite managing to hide her sudden stiffening, she clamps down on the urge to turn to check herself. Nino may think he’s right (which he’s really not no matter the so supposed evidence), but she won’t give him the satisfaction of reacting too.
Marinette closes her eyes against the now obvious, tingling feeling of someone else’s eyes on her, and breathes. Nino’s arm comes up to embrace her waist, tucking her in further, and compliant, she accepts the apology in the shape of more warmth and the protective secureness of his hug, seeming to chase away her guilt.
Because wherever local sunshine, Adrien Agreste goes, goes Alya Césaire, his best friend. And despite whatever bullshit she tells herself at sleepless nights, when the fear settles in much stronger, twisting her insides, she is not ready to face the girl, not yet.
Not when she can see the fatigue on her golden face, smell the lingering taste of cookies in the air, and knows just why exactly she always seems to be late to class.
She is a coward, yes, but she is just too weak to face the truth.
_______
Meanwhile on the other side of the hall:
,,Oh boy, Adrien, could you please stop being a creep for a second and explain this formula to me?”
Alya’s voice rang loud enough to catch some curious glances left and right and ripping his eyes from the sadly beautiful, and heart wrenching sight of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, curling into the comfort of a hug, Adrien fights down the startled blush of embarrassment on his face.
,,Wha’,” he sputters. ,,I’m not a creep! I was merely looking at my classmates. Like,” his eyes fly and catch on a shock of flaming red, ,,Nathaniel! Don’t you think Nathaniel looks exceptionally dashing today?”
Alya rolls her eyes, while Nathaniel sitting obviously close enough to hear, spins his head around and turns a matching shade of red, squeaking.
,,Uh hu, yeah sure, now explain the formula?”
His eyes wander again, as if magnetized by the sheer magnitude of her person, and he can’t help but sigh at the pure relaxation on Marinette’s face, easing the stress lines and tiny frowns at her mouth. Adrien can’t remember ever seeing her this relaxed, this eased, and it lights something painful in his chest to realize just how tense she must always feel then to have the mere embrace of her friend, turn her blissfully calm.
He knew that Marinette is uncomfortable in class, how could he not when all he ever could see was her, but this..
Is this what the real, unmasked Marinette looks like? This soothed, and vulnerable person?
,,Al, you don’t think that Marinette looks... really stressed sometimes?”
Alya groans out a low, pained breath and crosses her arms on the table. ,,Formula, Adrien, just explain it and I’ll listen to your mooning all you like,” she gestures almost pleadingly. ,,Just, one second, and I’ll be yours,”
,,Can you recall her ever smiling when not with Nino?” he asks, feeling something unsettled claw inside his throat. He tries to swallow against it and fails. ,,I mean, they both don’t really have any other friends, they’re a duo, like us, or,” he back-tracks quickly. ,,Well, not us us maybe, because we’re a whooole different kind of hat, but do you think she’d maybe laugh if I’ll tell her some of my jokes? Even a little?”
Alya bangs her head against the table, drawing another round of curious eyes and curses ,,Oh my god, Adrien, I can’t believe you,”