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“Wheeee!”
Marinette’s stomach plummets as she nervously approaches the gate entrance, taking her time as she comes closer, the screams of the passengers making her want to turn back to the exit and hide.
It's a scorching summer day; quite a perfect time to be at the fair. The skies are dotted with a few candy-floss clouds, air crisp with the scent of various baked pastries mixed in with the breeze. The queues seem to go on forever, the crowds becoming increasingly excited and impatient as they take a few steps forward every so often. Colors and laughter are everywhere and anywhere, gathering at the strikingly massive structures of the place. There’s a ferris wheel on one side, a row of booth games and snacks on the other, an ominous house of horrors at the end, and alas, the big, glaring roller coaster that she’s been trying to ignore.
It’s not that she doesn’t like roller coasters, or so she believes, but the thought of plunging herself down a sharp descent toward her inevitable doom is enough for her to consider ditching her friends. Honestly, she would rather take a leap down the Eiffel instead, partly because she’d be donning a superpowered suit that would keep her alive, partly because she’s sure a certain someone would definitely catch her before she crashes into the ground head-first.
And so a wishful thought comes, secretly wishing he was here as well – for safety and solidarity, of course – not that she wanted to see him or missed him or anything like that. It was just because with a single look around, she could see cheers and smiles all over, and she sure could imagine that he was the type of person to go to places like this.
If only she wasn’t avoiding him.
“Come on girl, let’s have some fun!” Alya nudges her arm, and the raven-haired teen nearly jumps out of her skin.
“Yeah… fun.” Marinette grumbles, her eyes following the carts as they rocket up and down the spindly track, each drop making her stomach lurch. And she really isn’t in the mood.
"What are you waiting for?” Alya laughs. “Come on."
Her eyes look upfront, and it turns out the pair had already taken a few steps ahead of her. "Hey, wait up," she reluctantly walks forward, resigned to her fate.
"Are you two okay with riding that? That's like, the least date-worthy ride out here." Marinette reasons, gesturing to the 300 feet of meandering monstrosity overlooking the whole fair.
"Of course we are," Alya replies, grinning. "And don't be a gloomy sourpuss. It's a nice day, and you need some sunshine in your life."
"It's a nice day, and I'd prefer not to die," she spits back.
Nino finally speaks out. "You'll be fine, dudette. That thing is safe, no one's died there."
"Yet. No one's died there yet." Marinette points out. Feeling defeated, she sighs heavily, shoulders slumping low. "I didn't really want to say this, but I should have told you guys long ago." She pauses, voice turning grim. "I actually have a..a...rachnophobia."
"Oh."
"Yeah, sorry about that.” she nods solemnly, eyes darting away, “Now, how about that ferris–"
"I meant, 'oh, wow, I’m not buying that’, because the fear of heights is acrophobia, not arachnophobia." Alya snorts. "Nice try though. And don't even try pouting and doing those googly-eyes, they don't work on me. Heck, I don't think they work on anyone."
She withdraws from her begging theatrics, muttering a stream of curses under her breath.
"Give it up, Marinette." Nino chuckles. "And I agree with Alya, the pouting act has zero damage."
She sighs again, and this time it's a real one, following her friends further into the fair, the sight and sounds becoming louder and more vibrant as they make their way in.
Thirty minutes later, they're still waiting to ride the roller coaster, the queue moving up at an excruciatingly slow pace. It only budges once in a while, the line itself curved around four or five times. Marinette takes the sunblock from Alya gratefully, spreading some on her face and neck. She stares up at the sky and the sun beating down on everyone, and she’s definitely starting to feel it, even while holding onto her second iced smoothie. "You guys feel like going for a ride with a roof over our heads instead, like the ferris wheel perhaps?"
“Nothing’s wrong with a little heat and sunshine in your life, girl,” Alya grins as she looks over her. Then she gives an assuring smile. “Look, we just care about you, okay? I don't know what happened, but you seemed to have it rough this week.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Marinette feels a tinge of regret from her complaints, the sincerity on her friends’ face putting a seed of guilt in the pit of her stomach. She attempts to put a smile on her face and halfway succeeds, looking more like a caricature with her teeth bared and the smile stretched across her face. “I’m going to have a good time today. I promise.” The relieved expression that breaks out on Alya’s face makes her smile back, this time more genuine, feeling that nothing could go wrong after this. She can make it through the day, hopefully all happy and filled with sugar and glee. It’s time for her to have fun, after finally managing to get out of the house rather than choosing to bury herself in bed with the covers pulled up to her eyes, watching sappy rom-coms and drawing aimless squiggles on her sketchbook, the way she’s been ever since they both found out. She can do this.
“Hey!”
She can’t do this.
Marinette makes it seem like she has no idea where the voice is coming from, her eyes glancing around the sea of people around them, and in truth, she actually can’t see above the heads of some of the crowd. But Nino definitely knows whoever it is because his brown eyes light up in recognition, waving as he motions for the person to come over. Her eyes still wander everywhere except the one coming towards her, and she hopes it's the heat of the sun that’s making her cheeks burn.
“Princess! Come here!”
The raven-haired teen chokes on her drink, gasping, absolutely mortified. She can’t believe he had the guts to call her that. In broad daylight. Marinette already steels herself to run away in embarrassment, when all of sudden a girl comes over to hug her – Ella, sporting a sparkly princess tiara and a cute pink sundress. Oh. In the corner of her eye, she sees him approach them, holding Etta’s hand, who’s wearing a fluffy cat-ear headband and green pouf dress to complete the ensemble.
Now all she can do is watch as she’s rooted on the spot from Ella’s cuddles, watching him cut the line to reach them, pushing their way through the crowd, with Alya apologizing profusely, telling them that the new arrivals are part of their group.
Etta also zooms towards her when she gets closer, tackling her with a warm hug and hello. She’d like to say it's the hug that made her breathless, but it’s when Adrien leans over to pick the twins, that Marinette’s breath helplessly hitches in her throat.
“Sorry about that,” he says, smiling sheepishly as he ruffles Ella’s hair, “this little kitty couldn’t wait to see you.”
The both of them freeze as the words leave his mouth, and neither has ever seen the other turn such a deep shade of red.
“Uhhh...”
“I-I… I mean–it’s not–um, well—”
“What are you two doing?” Alya shouts, beckoning them over with her sisters in tow. “You guys are holding up the line.”
He takes a quick look at the crowd, and he immediately tugs her away with his hand, bringing them back to their group.
“Thanks for giving the heads up, Alya,” he says, then glances at the two girls. “How dare you two not wait for us, leaving your poor teacher behind? After all I’ve done for you two?” He pats Etta’s head, messing up a bit of her hair, and a giggle bubbles out of her mouth. Nino gives him a fist bump. “Can’t believe you managed these two, dude,” he laughs. “Congratulations, you’re probably the first tutor the twins have liked and doesn’t look like a wreck afterward.”
The blond snorts, green eyes rolling playfully. Someone help her. “As soon as I told them their big sister wanted to meet up at the fair, they did a whole 180 and acted like angels. They said they wanted to go on a date too.”
Nino shakes his head in amusement. “Fair enough. I can’t believe Alya got to convince you to tutor them though. Aren’t you supposed to be busy with your modeling schedules?”
“Not really. I’m taking a break. Had a rough week,” he says, and Marinette swears she sees his gaze flicker to her for a split second. She’s losing it. He sighs, “I’m still waiting for some things to clear up.”
“It’s alright,” Nino gives him an assuring pat on his back, “And you're not alone in this, even Marinette’s having a rough week.” The pair couldn’t even bear to look each other in the eye, but Nino simply saunters away to Alya’s side, unaware of the turmoil he and his girlfriend had brought on.
Marinette can’t take it anymore.
“Adrien,” she whispers, finally.
At first, Marinette thinks she might have spoken too low, but the way he tenses in an instant makes her heart throb a dangerous beat.
“You’re holding my hand,” she breathes out, eyes plastered on the ground, “You’ve... you’ve been holding it since we moved.”
The realization dawns on Adrien’s face quickly, his mouth gaping open as his eyes dart down to their hands. “Oh no, no. I didn’t want to hold your hand–” his eyes gowide, waving his arms defensively, “I really, really didn’t mean it like that. It’s just technically we have held hands before, and actually even–” Her eyes narrow, waiting as he digs himself deeper into his own grave, titled Marinette’s running Why-I-can’t-face-Adrien-slash-Chat-Noir-anymore list. “I mean, um, that’s not what I meant either...” He lets out a little whimper. “You know what I meant,” he mumbles, lips drawn to a pout. “You always do.”
Unbelievable. She spent an entire week trying to avoid him, out of sight, out of mind, building up her defenses to steel her heart, but it only takes some hand-holding to bring all those walls back down to square one.
But he doesn’t have to know. Not when he doesn't feel the same way.
Adrien keeps sneaking glances to his side. Over the next half hour of waiting, he’s been zoning out the conversations, the twins busy playing and Nino and Alya occupied with themselves, preferring to focus on watching something else instead. That is, if the something else had beautiful raven locks and pretty bluebell eyes. He doesn’t miss the doting looks Marinette gives the twins while she plays and jokes along with them, and the sight of her being so good with kids is enough to send his thoughts into overdrive. It’s so hard not to notice more of Marinette’s endearing quirks, sticking out her tongue cutely when she’s thinking too deep or when she unconsciously tucks a stray hair behind her ear when she’s nervous, head tilting to one side. The flash of silver on her ears catches his eye, and Adrien doesn’t have to squint hard to realize what it is, kicking himself mentally for how he’s been so blind to have missed it all this time.
He lets out a tiny gasp when she turns unexpectedly, their eyes meeting for the briefest second before he quickly averts his gaze, choosing to instead gain a newfound interest down at his sneakers, completely convinced his face must be a red as a ladybug by now. And sure enough, he hears Alya’s voice, laced with genuine concern.
“Adrien, are you alright? It looks like you’re already starting to burn, your skin seems so sensitive. Here, put on some more sunscreen.” Adrien murmurs a thanks before grabbing for the bottle, and out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees Marinette smiling at him. But that can’t be.
Thankfully, before he can drown himself deeper in his thoughts, they finally get to the front of the line, and it takes a few moments for Adrien to have a wild realization. Because Nino and Alya are busy rubbing shoulders affectionately, holding hands and whispering sweet nothings. And the twins are busy chatting each other’s ears off still, joined at the hip. So that leaves… them.
To no one’s surprise, she comes to the same conclusion almost at the exact same time, giving him a hesitant smile. Adrien’s feet seem to have a mind of their own and stride over to her, the other four already having taken their seats and locked in with their safety belts. He tries to find the words to speak, but she beats him to it. “Um, Adrien, do you want to sit together with me?”
He blinks, his brain stutters, and the words helplessly leave his mouth.
“I-I mean, I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
It’s meant to be a joke, but apparently he doesn’t do a good job conveying that because Marinette’s face falls, and so does his heart. She looks away. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Adrien backpedals quickly, eyes wide. “I mean, I do want to, sit with you, I mean. Really. As long as you want to sit with me too?” Marinette tucks a stray hair behind her ear, head tilting to one side, and Adrien has half a mind to beg on his knees that she wouldn’t say no.
“Yes…” she purses her lips, “Alright.”
Adrien climbs into the seat next to her after she sits, and he accidentally startles Marinette as he reaches over to pull down her harness for her, snapping in the safety belt with a loud click. He looks up and finds their proximity is so close, enough to see her cheeks slowly bloom the cutest shade of pink.
“Oh, sorry,” he says, his hand brushing the back of his neck, looking apologetically. “Force of habit. I’m used to doing it for so long, keeping you safe all the time, you know, I mean, I’ve been doing it ever since—”
“—Ever since we were fourteen. I know what you meant,” she smiles, as she raises a hand to pull down his own harness, “I try to keep you safe too, you know,” she says, grabbing one side of the safety belt while he grabs the other and they snap it together with a click.
“Pound it.”
They both look each other in the eye, surprised that they both blurted out the same thing. A laugh bubbles out of the two, and Marinette playfully shrugs as the laugher settles down. “Old habits die hard.”
Adrien feels a lump in his throat, and again his heart takes charge before he can think. “It doesn’t have to die, you know,” he mumbles.
“Huh?”
He wants to slap himself, but Marinette’s puzzled look makes him stop, planting hope that she didn’t really hear what he said. Because that’s what he really wanted. Definitely.
“Uh, I’m just saying that... that I can still keep you safe? So you won’t die?” he unhelpfully supplies, unable to stop the nonsense running out of his mouth.
“Yeah, I know.” Marinette pales, murmuring, eyes facing front. “Or else I wouldn’t be here.”
Before Adrien can ask her what she means, the loud horn at front goes off, and the ride operator booms over the loudspeaker, bright and loud. “Who’s ready to have some fun?!” Whoops and cheers go up from all the passengers seated on ride, and Adrien spots the others in the front, the loudest supporters, hands raised into the air excitedly. And the ride begins to move forward, gearing for the first big drop, the line of cars inching along the incline slowly, the peak still looking a bit far away. As they climb higher, a view of the city unfolds before them, and Adrien cranes his head interestedly to look.
“Oh, look! We can even see the Eiffel from here, and look down there, we were just standing there half an hour ago!”
But she’s not paying attention in the slightest, he finds out when he glances at her, Marinette’s knuckles are turning white from clutching at the harness, her eyes locked straight ahead, jaw set tight, teeth clenched. Adrien hesitates to reach for her hand, words of reassurance halfway out of his mouth when they reach the top. “It’s alright, relax, Mari–”
Adrien’s words are left on the top of the rails, with the whoosh feeling in his stomach from the drop the only thing he can feel. A mouse-like shriek surprises him, and he first assumes it's probably one of the twins, but he realizes his mistake when he feels the life being squeezed out of his right hand, Marinette holding on so tightly that he’s sure he’s losing a good amount of circulation in his veins.
Help me. Adrien knows he shouldn’t be laughing because she seems to be on edge – while he’s happily enjoying the ups and downs of the ride, each drop makes Marinette whimper. And maybe it's the wind, the other people’s squeals, or wishful thinking, but he thinks he hears her call his name in between shrieks.
The ride finally ends, and they pull back into the front, ready to unboard. The harness automatically lifts off their chests, and Adrien quickly unclasps their belts with his free hand.
“Are you alright?” he looks to her in concern as they climb out of their seats, and she walks forward unsteadily, nearly tripping as she takes a few steps and Adrien braces himself, coming closer just in case she falls backwards.
“Can we go again? Please?” he hears Etta exclaim as he finally brings Marinette to the exit. “That was absolutely so awesome!”
“Yes! Yes! I want to go again with Etta too!”
“Maybe we can go back here later,” Alya suggests. “The line seems to have gotten longer, and there’s many other rides we haven’t tried yet.” Adrien realizes she’s right. At some point between the time they spent waiting and being on the ride itself, hordes of people had joined, the amusement fair starting to get more full. “Plus we’ve been wanting to go on the ferris wheel. Right, Marinette?” Alya’s eyes widen. “Marinette?”
“Uhh, guys? I feel kind of sick.” And really, Marinette looks a bit too pale and peaky, the cute blush of pink lost somewhere between the third and fourth roller coaster loops. “I don’t think I can go on another ride right now.”
“But-” Ella starts to speak, a disappointed look on her face, but falls quiet once Alya shakes her head at her. Adrien makes a snap decision—because he doesn’t really have to think twice for this—and waves his hand at the rest of the group. “It’s fine, I can take care of Marinette. You guys go have fun, and we’ll catch up later. Just text us where you are.”
Nino looks at him with a concerned expression, hesitant. “Are you sure, dude? We can all stay—” his girlfriend gives him a nudge, and his hazel eyes flicker downwards, “—or... not?”
“No, no. I’m sure.” Adrien smiles at the group. “Go. Take your kids and have fun on your cheesy couple ferris wheel ride.” His words make the tips of Nino’s ears redden, and Adrien shoots him a wink. “We’ll be fine. I promise.” He rubs Marinette’s back with his hand, little circular motions, as he watches the other four walk towards the ferris wheel, while Marinette’s wobbling in his grasp, eyes half-lidded.
“Do you need to sit down, Marinette?” The girl straightens up, and nods almost imperceptibly at him, face still pale.
Five minutes later, Adrien is sitting on a bench, Marinette’s head nestled in the crook of his neck. She’s still a bit disoriented and probably unaware of a lot of things, like the way she’s so close, her breath brushing his skin and his hand drawing circles in her palm to keep her calm. He honestly thinks if this continues any further, he’s not going to make it.
“Marinette?” he breathes out, squeezing her hand. “Are you doing okay?”
“A little…” Marinette whispers, voice sounding drowsy. “I have discovered roller coasters do not agree with me at all. This is so painful. And embarrassing.”
“Why did you even get on the ride?”
The answer from her comes out a mumble, undecipherable to his ears. “What did you say?”
A loud groan comes out. “I said, because Alya said it wouldn’t be bad, and I wasn’t about to look like a coward in front of the girls. The twins were watching.” She sighs, voice becoming smaller. “You were watching.”
Adrien lets out a light laugh at the faulty logic, though he can’t help wondering if her last comment means more than she’s letting on.
“You wouldn’t look like a coward, Marinette. I don’t think it’s possible even if you tried. And as far as I know, the love for you isn’t lost.” She looks up at him, and Marinette’s face swims into view, still a bit pale, but certainly with some colos returning to her cheeks. The girl raises an eyebrow. “I-I mean, the twins love you to bits. They talk about you a lot, and seeing their expressions back there, you have nothing to worry about.”
She nods at him slightly. “Thanks. I hope you’re right. I like them a lot, like really a lot. Sometimes they’re too playful and make too many jokes and puns, but I guess that’s part of the charm.” The comments bring a smile to his face, and then Marinette’s voice turns apologetic, and remorse marrs her sweet features.
“Anyway, I’m sorry you had to miss the ferris wheel just to take care of me because I literally got sick.” She scrunches up her nose. “Definitely not your idea of a good time at the fair, I suppose.”
He shakes his head, smiling, lifting a hand to wave off the apology. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s not like I have anyone to have those cute couple moments with anyway, being all touchy and sweet and stuff.” Adrien stammers when he sees Marinette’s eyes widen and she quickly moves to sit in a more proper position, away from his chest. She’s about to draw away her hand when he quickly adds, “I mean, I didn’t want to go on the ferris wheel anyway, so it’s fine.”
“Ah. Same case for me then,” she mutters, brushing back a stray hair behind her ear.
“Yeah? How about that guy you said you like?”
He feels Marinette grasp his hand tighter, “That guy? Well—”
The sound of his phone interrupts her, the music of Nino’s personalized ringtone breaking them apart. “Hey Nino, what’s up?” Adrien can barely figure what his friend is saying on the other end, all he can concentrate on is Marinette staring at him intently, blue eyes boring into him. Her fixated gaze is making him feel overly self-conscious, and he really hopes he isn’t turning red. “Mhmm. Okay, sure.”
Marinette gives him a small smile when the call ends. “What did he say?”
“To meet them over at the games. They finished their ferris wheel ride.” Adrien imagines Nino and Alya on the ferris wheel, linking hands and taking pictures together with the pretty background view, and for a brief second he wonders what it would be like to go with Marinette. But that can’t happen. Still, he couldn’t stop the heat from coming to his cheeks. He shifts from one foot to another, flustered, words coming out awkwardly.
“So… I guess we should go?”
“Okay, let’s head over.” Marinette stands up along with him, and Adrien rummages through his bag, searching for the park map he’s sure he placed in there earlier. “It’s okay, I got one, Adrien.” He freezes as she rolls up on her toes and taps him lightly on the head with her map before opening it up, scanning it for the direction they should go. “I printed my own, you see. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared right?” she says, shooting him the confident grin that always takes his breath away.
“Hmmm, looks like it’s just a short walk from here, over the next corner.” Marinette points a direction to his left. Adrien startles when she casually links their arms together. “Let’s go, kitty.”
He’s not exactly sure which is worse, that the idea of Marinette printing a mere piece of paper sends a warm feeling spreading through his chest, or that his week-long self-given We-are-just-friends pep talk seems to have completely flown out of his mind in the face of that feeling.
But she doesn’t have to know. Not when she doesn't feel the same way.
Marinette’s eyes are plastered at the map as they walk, navigating with a casual ease. She’s seemingly paying Adrien no mind, although in reality she’s stuck wondering if it’s only her who’s affected, at crossroads of wanting to tear her arm away or leaning into his side. It’s nothing, she convinces herself. He’s just being nice. Just being nice. Because he sees us as just friends. Just friends. Marinette chants it to herself in her head as they walk, trying to calm herself down, very much aware of how fast the way her heart races. Just being nice. Just friends. Just being nice friends.
“Hey guys!”
She feels herself whisked forward by Adrien, who’s excitedly waving to the rest of the group, likely forgetting that they’re still attached. She doesn’t miss the knowing look Alya is giving her, pointedly staring at her arm linked with Adrien’s. She desperately tries to wordlessly convey that her friend should shut up and not do a thing. She’s safe if it’s only Alya that she needs to worry about in the equation because as much as the other girl teases her, she’s not one to completely throw her under the bus. Or at least she likes to think so.
However, there’s a variable she forgets to consider – a mini version of Alya, with no filters and no stops – times two.
“You two are holding haaands!”
Ella’s voice comes out high-pitched and shrill, immediately pointing with any regard for Marinette’s impending embarrassment. “Does this mean you two like each other?” The young girl’s voice gets higher and louder with each word. Marinette lets out a heavy sigh when Adrien immediately releases her arm. Just friends.
“Nah, they’re just linking arms. Why are their faces so red, though?” Etta chimes in, eyeing the two of them critically.
“You know, Marinette,” Ella’s voice is laced with unbridled excitement, face lighting up with a grin, her eyebrows raised. “Adrien usually talks about his ideal girl. You’d almost be doing him a favor if you went on a date with him. See, he always, always says that his girlfriend would have hair as black as night, with pretty bluebell eyes and—”
“Alright, yeah, that’s enough out of you,” Adrien smiles cheerfully, his green eyes crinkling in the corners as he does, the expression a stark contrast to his actions, moving to cover the young girl’s mouth threateningly so she can’t speak.
Marinette feels the tips of her ears start to burn, her brain shutting down as soon as she heard the word ‘date’.
“Ella, you’re not allowed to talk about this for the rest of today or else I’m telling your mom that you haven’t finished your homework,” Adrien whispers playfully. “Half of which I answered for you.”
The little girl visibly widens her eyes, holding back a giggle after he lets go. “Fine.”
“But really, you two should date.” Etta shrugs at the look Adrien gives her, and Marinette thinks she can hear a vein pop somewhere. “What? I did all my homework.”
She honestly wishes Alya and Nino aren’t getting such a good kick out of it, the two of them struggling to hide their laughter, or actually, not even trying to. Alya sends her a teasing wink. “How about we go play some games instead?” Nino suggests, slinging his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders. “I’m ready to win something.”
An hour later, it’s pretty clear that none of them are winning anything.
“Why are carnival games so hard?” Etta grumbles, letting out a deep sigh as they finish their latest game of ring toss, only managing to get a few to land properly, some just bouncing off as soon as they hit bottles, and the rest not even getting close to hitting the target zone at all.
“It’s because it’s rigged. All of them are definitely rigged.” Ella scowls, reluctantly taking their newest prize, one of the small, unappealing characters near the bottom of the prizes’ tier list. “There’s no way that we can play so many times and not even win a medium level prize.”
Adrien lets out a laugh, handing the twins some more money to try again, the two of them running off to find another game to attempt beating. “I’m probably going to end up buying whatever they want at the gift shop at the end of the day instead,” he says, chuckling.
Marinette snorts, shaking her head. “Yeah, I doubt anyone can win one of the big prizes. They pretty much make it impossible to. Anyone who manages that would be really impressive.”
For the first time in a while, Adrien looks up with piqued interest, spending most of their game time staying fairly quiet, and Marinette assumes her slip-up by calling him ‘kitty’ must’ve upset him or something. “Is there a big prize that you really want?”
The boy’s gaze is boring in her, and Adrien’s intense focused attention makes Marinette feel light-headed, a rush of adrenaline running through her veins. He seems very serious all of a sudden, wearing the determined look she’s used to seeing on Chat, and it makes her stammer upon answering.
“N-no, not really.”
Now it’s Alya’s turn to snort with laughter, casting her a judgmental look. “What are you talking about, girl? You love plushies and winning prizes. Remember last time when we were at the arcade? There was this guy who wanted to impress you so much he dropped 40 euros in that one game. And he still didn’t win you anything.” Alya tuts, her expression sour. “You wanted that kitty plushie so bad.”
“That was a long time ago,” Marinette feels the blush heating her cheeks, her gaze shifting between Alya who’s looking at her quizzically, Nino with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and Adrien who is full-out staring at her now. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What do you mean?” Alya exclaims, eyes narrowing. “That was like, only two weeks ago.”
Nino tries to hide his smile as he draws his cap a little bit down, a fact that Marinette doesn’t miss, while trying to bolster herself with fake confidence. “It doesn't matter.” She hisses at Alya. “Now drop it.”
“Which one do you want?” Adrien asks the question like it’s a statement, like Marinette doesn’t have an option to refuse, and she squirms under his inquiry, torn between wanting the boy she liked to win her a prize, the thought burning a flame of delight in her chest, but also not wanting him to go through the trouble for just a friend. After all, they’ve already spent over an hour trying.
“She especially likes black kitties,” Alya adds unhelpfully, ignoring the glare Marinette shoots at her. “But really, anything cat-shaped that’s gigantic enough for her to hug to sleep, she’ll love it.”
Adrien turns, making his way towards the edge of the carnival games, and Marinette picks up her pace to follow him, cursing under her breath at their best friends for being the busybodies they are, the two of them trailing behind Adrien and her. She can just barely hear them whispering about her and Adrien too, the gossip mongers.
Adrien strides slightly ahead of her with purposeful steps, and she puts her busybody friends out of mind for now to watch him. The boy starts at the end and goes down the line, looking at each carnival game booth over before moving on to the next, until they’ve gone through the entire row.
Before she can ask whether he has picked one, Adrien doubles back and makes a beeline for the booth next to her.
“I’m going to win you that.” Adrien points confidently to the kitty plush hanging in the rafters of the booth, three feet tall with midnight black fur and wide green eyes, a golden bell around its neck.
“Uh, Adrien, you don’t really have to.” The words come out of Marinette’s mouth weakly, unsure whether they will have any effect at all when his jaw is set in a determined look, mind seemingly already decided. “I don’t really need another stuffed animal.”
He turns to her, head cocking to the black kitty, gaze unwavering on her face. “Do you want it?”
Yes.
“… Maybe.”
“Then it’s yours.”
Adrien grabs his wallet out of his pocket, taking out some crisp bills and handing them to the man behind the counter. “How many do I need to hit to get the huge prize?”
The man looks at him skeptically. “You only get ten shots, and you need to hit all ten if you want the cat.” Then adding with a smirk, “I think I’ve only seen one person get all ten in the past month since I’ve been working on this booth.”
The coquettish grin that appears on Adrien’s face makes her forget how to breathe for a second. “Watch me.” He picks up the toy dart gun, right hand wrapped around the handle, index finger on the trigger, left hand cradling the barrel, leaning down and forward slightly so his face is level with the line of sight down the barrel to aim. Adrien bites his lower lip in concentration as he stares at the colored balloons along the back wall, his shoulders nice and square with his hips. Marinette honestly believes she’s not one to go for the looks, but she can’t help notice how hot he looks right now. Just friends. Just friends.
The first pop! nearly gives her a scare, not realizing Adrien had already pulled the trigger, bright red dust exploding into the air. He adjusts his stance, aims, and the next to go is the orange balloon next to it. Then the yellow. Then the green. Then the blue.
With each passing balloon, Marinette can feel excitement rising in her chest, making her heady with anticipation, the thought of actually winning now seemingly within their reach.
Adrien misses the seventh, the indigo balloon still intact after he takes his shot, and he lets out a grunt, frowning down at the dart gun in his hands. He hits the last two of the three shots, and suddenly they have a mid-tier prize in their hands, a cute turtle larger than anything else they’ve won all afternoon. Marinette tries to bite back the small pang of disappointment, reaching out to take a prize, Alya opening up her bag for her to place it into.
“It’s okay, Adrien. You did your best.” Marinette says, giving him a grateful smile. “And at least we got something bigger, maybe we can give it to the twins.”
Adrien shakes his head at her, his expression unreadable. “Again,” He hands the man behind the counter more money, and the man shrugs dubiously in response. “It’s your money.” He hands the dart gun back to him. “Ten shots buddy. You’ll need a lot of luck.” Then the man glances at her, “How about you give your boyfriend a good luck kiss?”
“Um—”
As if her legs had a mind of their own, she goes up to him quickly and presses her lips to his cheek. Just friends. “Good luck,” she whispers, sounding a bit too hopeful. Just friends.
She watches as the boy takes deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling a few times before starting, his brows knit together in concentration, lips pressed into a thin line. One. Adrien starts on the row above his previous one this time, beginning with the furthest balloon on the left. Two. The thought once again crosses Marinette’s mind that he looks attractive with the toy weapon in his hands. Three. But a baton is a better pair with him in her opinion. Four. She feels a bit ridiculous for cheering Adrien on, words of encouragement coming out automatically as she watches with bated breath. Five. Marinette wonders if she looks like someone cheering on her boyfriend. She really hopes that’s not the case. Six. Seven. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t mind terribly if anyone passing by would assume Adrien is her boyfriend. Eight. Because it would be nice to be linked with him. Which they are. Technically. As friends. Platonic. Nine. Not because she wants it to be different. Romantic.
Ten.
The scream that comes out of her mouth is unbridled, the excitement washing over her as the last balloon is popped, leaving behind puffs of bright red. A relieved smile spreads over the other boy’s face as the man behind the counter gapes, wordlessly forfeiting, handing over the prize to Adrien.
He turns to her to hand her the cat, and the stuffed animal so large that Marinette can barely see Adrien at all, with only his face peeking out from behind the cat’s body, a triumphant grin on his face. “Here you go, Marinette.” He passes her the stuffed toy, and Marinette feels a thrill run through her as their fingers brush briefly. Which is crazy, because it’s not like they’ve never touched hands before.
“Thank you, Adrien.”
He stares at the cat proudly, giving her a wink. “I told you I could do it.” He looks at her with stars in his eyes, leaning in closer just for her to hear. “Do you like it, m’lady?”
Marinette nods fervently, squeezing the black kitty tighter as she does, the cat’s paws draping over her shoulders. She hides her face against the cat’s chest, praying her blush doesn’t give her away. “I love it.”
Adrien feels he’s about to melt on the spot as he watches Marinette hold the cat in her arms. The toy just dwarfs her, nearly as big as her, and he feels delighted as she hugs it, looking just so sweet and adorable, just waiting to be kissed. He hopes he’s still thinking about the toy.
“Whoa!” The shriek of surprise comes out of nowhere. “You guys won a big toy?” Etta comes bouncing up to them, Ella following close behind. “Amazing!” He sees Marinette reluctantly loosens her grip on the cat as Etta comes up to give the toy a huge hug. “Who won it?”
“I did.”
The young girl looks at him reverently, batting her eyelashes. “Yeah? Can I please have it?”
Unfazed, Adrien could only bring up an apologetic smile. “No, I actually won it for Marinette. I’m sorry, Etta.”
The young girl’s face is crestfallen, the disappointment written on her face. “But…”
Ella plucks the plushie out of Etta’s hands and gives it back to Marinette. He can’t help but feel a twinge of relief as the kitty finally goes its way back home. “Etta, he said it’s for Marinette, so it’s not polite for you to ask.” Etta sighs but listens to her sister, and she pats her shoulder comfortingly. “We can try again next time.”
“Alright,” the little girl nods, looking at Marinette. “I think it looks better with her, anyway.” Etta finally concedes, and just a second after, they hear her stomach grumble.
“How about we go eat for now?” Adrien offers, chuckling. “My treat.”
And so he soon finds himself amazed, watching as the twins practically inhale the entire meal in front of them, eating at a pace that he didn’t even know was possible. With at least over twenty failed attempts at winning a big prize and getting on two rides that they passed by along the way, all six of them are busily chowing down food, ravenous after the eventful afternoon and taking up a whole table to themselves.
“This is, mmmm, so, uh, yummy, mmm,” Ella says in between bites, cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk after being stuffed with food. “Can we get dessert afterwards?” Nino and Etta second the motion, and Alya also nods in agreement. “Okay, sure, but you all need to make sure you finish everything on your plates first.” The eldest sister pauses, pointing meaningfully at the salad in the middle of the table, untouched. “Including the healthy stuff.”
“Aw, you’re going to be such a great mom.” Nino remarks offhandedly, a split second later realizing what he had said, the pizza slice he’s bringing to his mouth left frozen in mid-air as his face reddens and the tips of his ears turn a bright shade of pink. The whole table freezes for a full moment, the six of them all staring at each other from across the table.
Marinette is just looking at Alya for her reaction, watching as her best friend finally processes what Nino said, a blush starting to paint her cheeks.
“I-I’m-” Alya doesn’t even know what to say, and Marinette’s laughter escapes first, seemingly very amused at the plight her best friend is in. Her laugh breaks the silence, causing everyone else to laugh along, and the tension dissipates. Marinette takes another pizza slice between giggles, and Adrien catches her shooting a teasing wink to her best friend.
The rest of the meal passes uneventfully, unless he counts the fact that twins somehow manage to eat a second meal and get halfway through a third in the time the rest of them have finished only one. Kids, really. And somehow both Etta and Ella still have an exorbitant amount of energy left, eager to run through the rest of their day, while Adrien can already feel the food coma coming on.
“Dessert, time for dessert! Dessert!” The twins chant gleefully, darting towards the dessert bar that seems to be selling the most oversized cheesecake pops and sundaes that Adrien has seen in his entire life, watching the person in front take an ice cream piled with five scoops high, glazed in caramel and chocolate and burdened with sprinkles and marshmallows, the entire concoction seeming close to falling over.
His stomach automatically issues a rejection, and he must have made a weird expression to go along with it because Marinette turns to him with a humored grin. “Too full for those kinds of things?”
Adrien wrinkles his nose, trying to hide his face from breaking out into a look of dissatisfaction. “Yeah, the meal was already too filling.”
“Alright, come on.” It’s not accidental or just for comfort this time, and Adrien gets a shock when he feels her fingers intertwining with his, her hold gentle but firm as she pulls Adrien along beside her. He can feel his mind floating as they walk around, thinking that they definitely look like a couple on a date.
Then she stops all of a sudden, and Adrien bumps into her slightly, his chest hitting her back, a sweet-sounding ooh! escaping from her mouth as he does.
“Um, sorry about that,” Marinette mumbles, peering up at him as if to make sure he’s okay, her worried gaze scanning his face for any sign of discomfort. He feels her squeeze his hand. “Anyway, I found just the right dessert for us.” She tilts her head in question, tongue sweeping her lips clean of imagined saccharine. “You like sweet things, right?”
Yes.
“... Maybe.”
“You do! You said you did during patrol once, years ago.”
Dammit, stop remembering everything I say. Adrien finds himself swooning on the inside, his heart about to give out.
“You’re probably managing your weight, and you said you were too full, so I thought maybe cotton candy wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” Marinette looks at him a bit bashfully, looking uncertain about his reaction, and he feels himself starting to swoon again at the way she cares about him so sweetly despite her seeing them as just friends.
“That sounds like a great idea.”
Marinette’s face breaks out into a dazzling smile, holding up one finger and motioning for him to wait. She lets go of his hand, and he has to stop himself from reaching out again. He watches her hand over a few bills, and gets two bags of cotton candy, one blue, one green.
“Why did you pay for me? I could’ve paid for us both.”
The girl shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. I’m going to pay this time. Alya and Nino didn’t agree with you paying for the entire meal, so they pitched in, but you wouldn’t even let me spend a cent on anything.”
“Well, next time we go out, you can pay.”
She shrugs, though her voice comes out sounding a bit higher than usual. “Fair enough,” she says, shoving the candy bag into his hands. “Here’s your dessert.”
Adrien takes the bag, undoing the ribbon tie and cover, ripping off a piece. “Mmm. That’s sweet.” He shoves a few more large pieces into his mouth, savoring the blueberry taste, and she laughs as he sticks out his tongue at her playfully. “Am I blue yet?”
“Yes,” she laughs. “Very blue.” Marinette rips off her own piece, pushing the green cloud of fluff into her mouth and letting it melt, and Adrien feels as though the lingering sugar on his own tongue turns sweeter. She sticks out her tongue at Adrien. “How about me?”
Marinette’s tongue is in a shade of mint-green, the color staining a bit of her lips, and Adrien has the insane urge to lean down and kiss it away. He’s losing his mind. But he still manages to bring out a response as he shakes his head, plastering on a grin. “Not quite yet.”
Wanting to distract himself, Adrien rips off another chunk, with full intention to eat it, but his mind goes blank when Marinette reaches up to take a bite, her mouth far too close to his fingers for a brief second. “Huh. Pretty good, I suppose. But I think mine is better.”
Marinette tears off a piece of her green cotton candy, “Here, give it a try.” She holds it out for him to eat, and Adrien can feel himself blushing as he does, his heartbeat roaring in his ears while she carefully feeds the piece to him. Marinette stares at him as he eats, and he feels the need to avert his eyes, but he realizes he no longer has the strength to stay away.
He sticks out his tongue after it dissolves in his mouth, the taste running through him like honey and adrenaline.
“It’s better, huh,” she smiles, taking another bite from her own candy. “It’s the perfect dessert, right? Do you like it?”
“Purrfect.” He purrs the word, and it makes the moment seem to last forever. He matches her gaze, the next words coming out endeared. “I love it.”
Alya waves them over when they come back, the four of them still crowding around the dessert bar, a large milkshake with twin straws between Alya and Nino, Etta making her way through what looks like a boatload of strawberry sundae, and Ella holding up a nearly finished candied apple.
“You guys got cotton candy?’ Ella’s face brightens, topped off with a subtle smirk that Marinette doesn’t miss. “We were wondering where you two ran off to.”
“Just to get a dessert that isn’t as heavy,” she says, ruffling the little girl’s hair. “Want some?”
Ella nods expectantly, then throws her sister a haughty look. “I wanted more, but Alya said I have to stop eating too much.” Marinette laughs, and hands over the remainder of her mint-green cotton candy bag to her, and she watches at the corner of her eye Adrien giving his share to Etta as well.
Alya rolls her eyes at her sister’s words. “One day, you two will realize that eating too many sweets isn’t good for you, and that beautiful day will come when you’re strapped to the dentist’s chair. And I will be there to say I told you so.” She waves her hand, motioning at them to hurry up and finish eating. “So after this, where do you all want to go next?”
Etta’s face lights up. “How about we go to the haunted house?”
Marinette swears it all goes down in slow motion. Nino goes completely still, his face draining of color, and the one hand he has gripping the milkshake cup tightens enough to make milkshake spew a bit out of the straws in comedic timing. He’s not the only one in distress, either. Ella doesn’t look any better, looking pained and waving the apple stick agitatedly against her sister's face. “Why would you suggest that?” She crosses her arms. “You know I hate being scared.”
Nino also quips up, “I’m with Ella, how about we go somewhere fun and safe?”
“What?” Alya laughs, then adds on innocently, “You don’t trust me to protect you, babe?”
Nino groans. Etta squeals.
And so they end up in front of the haunted house.
It somehow came down to a group vote, with only Ella and Nino voting no, although Marinette highly suspects that everyone else voted yes just to get a rise out of the poor, terrified pair. They practically need to drag Nino over, Alya having a firm grip on her boyfriend’s arm, one of the rare times she sees him not being compliant to her every wish. She’s already excited, mostly for what’s going to happen to them next.
“Wait, Marinette,” Alya calls out. “I’m not sure you want to bring the toy in there.” Oh right, my kitty. She clutches it closer, somehow having forgotten that she was still holding it. As if it had always belonged in her arms. “How about you put it down in storage, in a locker or something before going in?”
“Uhmm.” The suggestion doesn’t appeal to her, the idea of leaving her kitty behind somewhere else making her feel uncomfortable. “I don’t think so.”
“Or…” Alya grins, “I could hold it for you out here, and everyone else can go inside.” The look Nino gives his girlfriend is all puppy dog and wide-eyed, and even makes Marinette feel bad. “Just kidding, babe. Kidding.” She waves her hand at the rest. “But we do have the perfect number to go in pairs. So how about Ella and Etta first, then Adrien and Marinette next. Then we’re last. And we can take turns holding Marinette’s black cat, that Adrien won for her, since she doesn’t want it to leave it anywhere.”
Marinette feels at this point that the glares she’s been sending Alya all day haven’t been effective as she would have hoped, her best friend deliberately ignoring her latest murderous look.
“Alright, off you go,” Alya says in a sing-song voice, ushering both her sisters towards the dark entrance, one twin protesting as the other drags her in.
Adrien chuckles next to her, then leans down to whisper in her ear, and she feels like she’s on fire. “Looks like we’re paired together.” The boy raises an eyebrow, flashing her teasing grin. “Am I going to have to protect you from the scary monsters inside, m’lady?”
Marinette sticks out her green colored tongue. “The roller coaster was a one-time thing. I can handle myself this time, kitty. Why, do you plan on being the knight-in-shining armor who protects his princess?”
“Yes.”
He says it without missing a beat, and it makes her insides turn into mush.
The sudden loud shrieks startle her out of her trance, the sound echoing through the darkened entryway, and Marinette sees two distinct small figures coming closer, with Ella coming fast into view and Etta following close behind. The one in front makes a beeline towards Adrien, hiding immediately and using the tall blond as a human shield.
“Ella, wait!” Etta catches up, panting, hands on her knees.
“What happened?” Marinette asks.
Etta shakes her head ruefully. “Never even made it past the second hallway.” Ella just looks at them mutely, the frightened expression etched on her face.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Nino comes over to wrap the girl in a big hug, glaring at Alya who’s not even trying to hide her amusement. “I know exactly how you feel already, Ella.”
Alya nods at her and Adrien, smiling. “How about you guys go next? We’ll take care of them first.”
Her best friend plucks the cat from her arms, and Marinette can’t help make a small, strangled noise as she watches her kitty be placed into Ella’s hands. “Here, hold this. It’ll make you feel better.” Nino nods in agreement where he’s hugging Ella from the back, the big toy obscuring everything except for her face. “Yeah, we’ll go last,” he says as if he’s been handed a death sentence.
Adrien no longer hesitates, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the entrance, voice teasing. “So, should we bet on who’s going to come running out screaming first?”
“Not a chance that’ll be me.” Marinette feels the stubbornness rising up in her chest, not wanting to lose. “If the cat ears haven’t clued you in, you’re definitely the Ella of this relationship.”
He raises his eyebrow. “We’ll see now, won’t we?”
Marinette doesn’t feel quite as brave once they walk in, the lights from the rest of the fair fading away as they go deeper in, the surroundings turning pitch black except for some dim strobe lights flashing at irregular intervals of the eerie music, illuminating the wall decor, a mix of cottony spiderwebs, sticky goo, and fake blood. Adrien squeezes her hand tightly, and Marinette is just about to tell him to ease up a bit when it happens.
He screams.
And he doesn’t stop screaming until the faux web falls from his head to his shoulders, while she just revels in the hilarity of it all, doubling over as she laughs at him. “You s-should have seen your face!” She chokes out, barely managing the get the words out between wheezes. “I thought you would’ve seen that coming from a mile away.” She tuts, still sniggering as she looks up to see the fluff of thread and cotton left in his hair. “Why did you think there were spiderwebs everywhere?”
“I don’t know,” he wails, running his fingers through his hair blindly, unable to really see what he’s picking at.
“Hold on, let me help.” Marinette can barely see his face in the dark, only visible when the flashing lights go off, but she can just make out Adrien’s eyes narrowed in concentration as he stares at her. “Can you duck your head a bit? You’re too tall and I can barely see.” He immediately obeys, staring down as she runs her hands through his hair, a surprisingly nice feeling. “Got it. I did the best I could to get it all out. Just some stray cotton and thread.” He raises up his head, muttering a thanks, his hair all disheveled. Now he really looks like Chat.
“Because I am him, Marinette,” he pointedly tells her, with humor in his eyes. She can’t believe she just said that out loud. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”
It’s all I’ve been thinking since. Not knowing what to say out loud, she looks up ahead to the hallway and takes a step further into the dark. She hears his footsteps catching up behind her, and she feels his hand slide into hers.
“That didn’t count by the way.”
“Hmm?” Marinette peers up at him. “What do you mean?”
“The one back there, that didn’t count as me being the first to scream.”
She snorts, looking at him with disbelief as they walked further. “I really feel like it did though.”
“No,” he insists, and Marinette isn’t sure if it’s just the neon red lights that she's seeing on his cheeks. “I wasn’t ready yet.” He pauses, pouting, then adds on an afterthought. “Besides, that wasn’t fair since it only landed on me. And not on you at all.”
“Okay. Fine,” she says, finally giving in. “I’ll give you a pass, because you looked funny and cute back there.”
“Thanks, Marinette,” he grins, but she doesn’t expect him to press a kiss on her cheek, leaving her speechless as he tugs on her and leads the way, turning the corner into different alley, the anxiety inside of her spiking when it becomes too dark and the only thing that assures her that she isn’t alone is his hand clasped in hers. “Wait, Ad-!” She nearly barrels into him, moving in a rush even though Adrien had already stopped in his tracks at the sound of her voice.
She peeks from his back, sees the new corridor and swallows deeply.
The corridor is splashed blood red, the bright, sickly color looking absolutely sinister. The only lights are swinging fixtures that look like they’re about to fall over their heads, flickering as if they’re on their last night. The hallway leads to a door with mist leaking under, and it's cold as they get closer. Marinette gets hit by an acrid smell mixed with the scent from the fog machine, and it takes her a second to place it. Garlic. So, vampires. She can handle vampires. He can handle vampires too. However, with the way their joined hands are trembling — she has no idea if it’s her hand or his, likely both — they might not even make it past the next hall.
Adrien pushes the door open, and Marinette blinks to adjust her eyes and take in the room in front of her. The entire space is lit with waxy candles, half of them already dripping all the way down to their base. An upright black coffin is propped against the wall, its lid closed, facing an organ standing proud on the wall opposite. A large wooden table stands in the middle, its sole decoration a silver goblet filled to the brim with red liquid. She almost jumps when she feels him squeeze her hand tighter, the color slowly draining from his face. The ambience is completed by the speakers blaring dramatic organ music into the room, in harmony with the sound of creaks and hisses, and a ghoulish, deep voice echoes around them to ask a question, “Do… you… dare… enter?”
“No,” Adrien mutters. “Definitely not.”
“B-but,” she reasons, her voice shaky, “That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?” Marinette thinks one of them has to step up to get this over with, so she adds, “Unless you’re admitting that you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Adrien bluffs, striding over to the closed coffin and dragging her along, despite not really wanting to come nearer. Then his voice drops down to a whisper, “But don’t you think something’s going to jump out at us if we open it?”
“Well—” Suddenly one of the dangling light bulbs drops somewhere behind them, and both of them jump in terror, with Marinette finding herself hiding behind his back. She gulps, nudging him forward to the coffin, “Well, we won’t find out until we do it.”
“B-but why am I at the front, Mari? I thought this was a ‘we’ thing.”
She tries to shove his new nickname to the back of her brain, trying to concentrate on the present issue. “It still is. Always will. I-I’m right behind you,” she mutters behind, pushing him closer to the coffin, “You and me against the world, remember?”
“... I can’t believe you’d use it in here.” Adrien snorts, his tone turning teasing. “You must be pretty terrified to bring it up. What else am I going to use to flirt with you now?”
“Ha-ha. You can save the flirting for later.” She takes his hand and places it on the side of the coffin, and she places her on top of his. “Let’s do it together then, on the count of three.”
“One…” she starts. The surface looks smooth, and she could feel the cold seeping from inside, making goosebumps crawl over her skin.
“Two,” Adrien continues. She wonders what would be inside. A body? Some bats? More spiderwebs?
“Three.” She breathes. Wait, did the coffin just shake?
The lid is lighter than she expected, as it opens with no resistance at all, steeling herself for whatever pops out. In one quick motion, they throw the lid of the coffin wide open, and they both step back in synchronized anticipation, their stance ready to take on whoever they would face.
A second passes. Then another. Nothing happens, and Marinette goes forward to look closer. There’s definitely someone in the coffin, with pale ashy skin, dressed like a discount Dracula, complete with frills and velvet cape, arms crossed over his chest, eyes shut and lips blood-red. The person doesn’t move, and as she comes nearer, it becomes apparent that it’s just a wax model, well-concealed by the dim lights in the room.
Marinette lets out a sigh of relief, turning to face her companion, feeling a lot happier than she had just been a few minutes ago. It takes her a split-second to realize Adrien isn’t anywhere around her, eyes scanning the small space frantically to search for the boy who seems to have disappeared into thin air. The panic starts to rise in her chest, gaze roaming every corner of the room. She strides towards the door to the unknown, bent on running into the next hallway just to find him.
“Boo!”
Marinette screams when she turns around, her arms flailing wildly out of surprise, catching a glimpse of the blond too late for her to stop her momentum from spinning. She hopes Adrien ducks in time, but it’s a futile hope, as she feels her hand connecting with what she’s sure is the boy’s face.
She hears him groaning, looking down to find him crouched on the ground, a hand rubbing his jaw. “Ouch, Mari. And here I was, thinking I stood a chance against you.” Adrien looks up at her ruefully, wincing as he sits up. “Just kidding, but I sure am glad to be always on your side, buga… boo.”
Marinette bites her lip, her first instinct to smack his head, but the worry in her heart trumps it, moving closer to see. “Are you okay?” She squats down to brush her fingers over the spot he had been rubbing, causing the boy to shy away a little, a low hiss of pain escaping. “I’m so, so sorry, Chat. I really didn’t mean to. Maybe you can punch me back. Or I could let you skip a patrol night in penance?”
Adrien shakes his head. “I shouldn't have tried to scare you anyway.” Then he grins at her, the teasing smile still gracing his features. “Though you should be careful what you say, Mari.” He takes the hand that’s busy brushing his face, and presses his lips to her fingers. “Aren’t you getting too comfortable with the civilian Chat Noir now?”
Before she could come up with a smart retort, Adrien stands up, and strides over to the coffin with its open lid. “Now, what exactly did I miss?”
Slightly dazed, Marinette follows him, pointing at the wax figure lying inside the coffin.
“Not much really,” she pauses. “Nothing happened, and I looked closer, it’s definitely not alive. I think.” Adrien leans in to get a better look, carefully poking the figure in the shoulder, and Marinette lets out a breath that she didn’t even realize she was holding. She wasn’t really convinced earlier. Now she can relax. But before she can revel in that comfort, Marinette feels it — a prickling touch around her wrist.
It’s warm.
She looks down slowly, already beginning to feel herself tremble, the urge to run starting to overcome all her senses. Marinette sees the red first, a deep bright red color matching the fake blood on the walls of the hallway outside, long, pointed nails against the chalk-like skin encircling her wrist, scarlet liquid dripping off the fingers. She lets out a blood-curdling scream, the sound of even a higher pitched shriek ringing out next to her, and Marinette feels another hand grabbing her other wrist, but this time it’s familiar — Adrien. Before she knows it, she’s being dragged along, her legs pumping to keep with the boy who’s dashing through the hallways as fast as he can, the sound of rushing footsteps behind making them run faster.
Soon, the sound of the fair’s rides and people becomes louder, and Marinette turns back to look and sees the one following had stopped in the middle of the hallway, its outline barely visible in the dim light, leaving only the glow of its red eyes and the gleam of its white fangs.
“Never again,” Adrien pants, shaking his head. The run didn’t feel that long, but it feels like the both of them had just gone through the marathon of their lives. “Next time we go here, we are never doing this again.” Marinette feels the gentle flutter of butterflies in her stomach as she hears him use we. “Remind me to never go along with Alya’s plans next time.”
“Definitely,” she whole-heartedly agrees, mentally cursing her best friend as she nods. “How’s your face doing?”
She touches the spot along his nose. “Mmhm, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me.” Adrien holds out his hand expectantly, palm upwards, waiting for her. When she doesn’t make a move, a puzzled expression evident on her face, Adrien makes a clicking sound with his tongue and takes her hand, inspecting it intently. “Just fake blood,” he sighs in relief. He meets her confused face. “I just wanted to check whether it nicked you, is all. Can’t have you getting hurt.”
She lets Adrien interlock their fingers and lead the way, even with just one pathway to take anyway. The scarlet walls from the last section fade into molting wallpapers of green, all tattered and torn, smelling like a mix of iron and decay. There doesn’t appear to be any place for something to jump out at them, but Marinette remains vigilant, eyes continuously scanning one wall to the other as they walk down it. As they get closer to the other end, a choice presents itself, the pathway veering off to the left and right, with no sign to know which one is the correct path. “Which way—” Suddenly, a garbled sound is heard and the walls start shaking, and Marinette’s heartbeat ricochets back up when the voices become louder, more distinct.
“Brr… brr..”
Adrien’s hand tightens around hers, and she shrinks behind him, the two of them frozen to the spot.
“Braainss!”
Marinette hears Adrien’s screaming before she even gets to see the zombie’s face, but when the boy turns to run, she also finds herself screaming her head off as the grotesque, evidently flesh-deprived creature comes into view, half of its hand missing. Their hands feel hot and sweaty as they run past through the double doors, down the hallway, not stopping for anything and sprinting past a few rooms completely without thought. Finally, the flashing lights of fair rides and the glaring red EXIT sign come into view, and they burst out of the haunted house, their feet finally touching ground untouched by grime or red paint. They stop a good distance away, heaving out huge pants to catch their breaths.
“Hey,” Marinette looks up to see Etta peering down at her worriedly, Ella standing next to her with the kitty plushie. “Are you guys okay?”
She and Adrien give each other a knowing look, the shared experience running through their minds like war flashbacks. “Yeah, we’re fine,” they both say.
Marinette gratefully holds out her hands to accept her plushie from Ella. “More importantly, where’s Alya and Nino?”
She doesn’t have to wait long for an answer, as the sound of deafening shrieks ring in her ears, Nino barrelling out of the haunted house with Alya trailing not far behind. The poor boy looks scared out of his wits and his girlfriend isn’t looking too calm either, but she’s definitely able to mask her shock better. Nino immediately makes his way over to Adrien, mustering up an indignant tone loud enough for Alya to hear. “Dude.” He takes a deep breath. “Worst. Idea. Ever.” The brunette only laughs as she hears, and Marinette watches amusedly as her best friend chases Nino around, trying to catch the other to give him a hug while Nino shrieks in protest.
She feels a tug on her shirt, “What about my hug?”
Marinette raises an eyebrow, watching him flash a taunting cheshire grin, probably expecting her snarky retort. After a few beats of seemingly deep deliberation, she walks into his arms and gives him a hug. And a quick peck on his cheek for good measure.
As she takes a step back, Marinette thinks she might’ve broken him— the boy is trapped in a daze, the usual defense of punny one-liners stuck in the back of his throat. She clears her throat, “I… thought you wanted a hug?”
Adrien blinks and comes back to his senses, and he’s just about to respond when Etta calls out to them, causing both of them to turn. “Will you two lovebirds hurry up?”
Both become rooted to the spot, and Marinette sees that the others are already headed to the next destination, heedless of their predicament.
“We probably should get moving to the next place, then,” she says, pulling him towards their friends. She looks straight ahead, unable to meet him in the eye, muttering, “Can’t have these kids think I’m falling in love with you.”
Because I already have.
They end up at the gift shop after Nino tires of avoiding Alya, finally letting herself be enveloped in a huge hug by his girlfriend while the rest of them watch in amusement. During this, one of the fair’s speakers had announced that it was a quarter to six, and Alya remembered she had to bring both her sisters back by seven. And so they spent a good time arguing, with Alya saying they had to leave straight away, while the twins insisted that they should at least go to the gift shop first before leaving.
In the end, after fourteen matches of rock-paper-scissors, the twins won, and afterward he hears Alya grumbling something about ‘being outnumbered’ and ‘spoiled kids’ on their way to the fair entrance.
Adrien peers over the shelves at Marinette, who’s currently engaged in a game of pretend with Etta, where the little girl is a princess and she’s the knight, while Ella cheers them on enthusiastically as an onlooker, holding on to the cat plushie tightly like Marinette had asked her to.
He gets a shock when he hears Nino sneak up behind him, “So are you going to do anything about this pining that seems to have shot up dramatically in the last seven hours?” he asks, leaning against the shelf, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.
Almost knocking off some of the plastic figurines on the shelves, Adrien makes a noise of strangled protest, unable to come up with a counter off the top of his head. Eventually, he manages to splutter a half-assed comeback. “W-What are you even talking about?”
Nino tuts, shaking his head. “Back then I thought you were really oblivious, but today I’ve seen you make more moves than a kung-fu movie, so give it up.” He gives him an assuring pat. “Anyway, I’m very, very sure she feels the same, so I give you at least a 99% chance of making this happen.” His best friend pauses. “The 1% is in case you do something stupid, like trip on your feet and fall face flat on the ground in front of her, or say something dumb like, ‘you’re a good friend’ or anything of the sort.”
“My chances of what?” he replies, feigning ignorance.
“Of successfully asking Marinette out. Confessing that you’ve been in love with her–”
“Shhh! Not too loud,” he whispers, glancing back at Marinette who’s dancing a waltz with Etta. He whines, feeling the nervousness rise in his chest. “If she likes me, why do I have to be the one to ask?” The blond grumbles. “It’s not as if I would say no to her.”
“And it’s not like she would say no to you either.” With a wink, Nino slides off the shelf and walks back in Alya’s direction. It leaves Adrien alone to wrestle with his thoughts, at least until another sneaks up behind his back, causing him yet another heart attack—and it turns out to be the girl who’s been causing most of them for today.
“Did you find something you like yet?”
You?
“I…” Adrien abruptly feels short of breath, Marinette standing close, staring at him with those bluebell eyes of hers. “Uh, not quite yet.”
Horror suddenly casts a shadow over her face and Adrien flounders for a moment until he realizes that now that they’re in the light, he figures that Marinette could see the place where she had clipped him more clearly.
“Is that a cut?” she gasps. Adrien brings his fingers to touch the spot, eyes widened in surprise, and Marinette swats his hand away. “Don’t touch it.” She pauses, a thought forming. “Wait here.”
She leaves him standing alone as she searches, striding quickly up and down the aisles of funny little souvenirs. He watches her take a package of kid-themed band-aids, check out at the cashier—not even taking her change, and makes her way back to him in less than a minute.
“Here.”
Marinette clumsily tears the package open, shaking one out of the box. He stares at her quietly as she carefully pries off the cover patch, the same care still present when she presses her fingers against his jaw and sticks the band-aid over the area. Adrien tries to ignore the pounding in his chest, not daring to breathe so close to her.
“All better.”
“...Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” a frown crosses her face, “It was my fault anyways.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have tried scaring you in the first place.”
“Probably not,” she grins, “so I hope you won’t pull that next time.”
“I’ll remember that,” he says, a smile spreading on his face. “But since you bought me something, I feel like I should get you a gift here too.”
Marinette shakes her head indignantly, not wanting to back down. “You already won me my kitty plushie.” She protests. “That’s already enough. With all you’ve done for me today, I feel like I’m the one who owes you a favor.”
“Mmm, I still think we should get each other something.” Adrien hums. “I’ll buy you something, then maybe I’ll collect your favor later.” He points at the spot on his jaw. “You wouldn’t argue with someone you literally punched in the face, would you?” Feigning an expression of pain, he adds, “It’s you and me against the world, remember?”
“That... doesn’t even make sense.” Marinette frowns at him, “And I can’t believe you’re actually using that against me,” she whines.
“Well, I’m in love with you, and you did say I could flirt with you later.”
Their eyes widen at the slip of his tongue, and he feels as if his head is going to implode, his stomach churning and his head spinning, but he really doesn't want it to stop. Marinette coughs then hastily scans the store, staring anywhere but him. She walks over to the display along the back wall, and he follows her over.
“You want this?”
She nods.
He looks at it, dark, fluffy and soft. “You… want cat ears?” Adrien’s tone is skeptical, nearly delirious as he takes the headband from Marinette, holding them over her head and squinting like he’s trying to picture it. Because it’s definitely not part of his fantasies. “O-Okay, this is… this is kind of cute. Yeah, cat ears it is for Mari.”
“Hurry up, you slowpokes!” Etta screams from across the store, arms still occupied with the kitty, with Ella carrying the rest of their merchandise. “Or else we’re going to leave without you!”
“Meet you two outside the entrance!” Alya calls out before following the other three out of the store.
The two of them walk up to the cashier, Adrien going through the motions to pay for her ‘gift’, while Marinette waits idly by the stacks of postcards, looking at the variety of pictures, spotting the roller coaster and the haunted house easily, then some photos around the city, like the Eiffel, the Seine and even just an overview of the evening Parisian skyline.
“That last one on the left seems like a familiar view,” he says, approaching her.
“It sure does, doesn’t it? After all, it did just happen a week ago,” she mutters, sighing. “How long did you stand there after I left?"
“Not long,” Adrien lies. “It got cold pretty quick.”
She looks up, and her gaze makes him feel like he should’ve known better and just told the truth. “You should’ve taken off the second I did,” she stares straight into his eyes, “I’m sorry. I acted too rashly, I shouldn't have...”
“It happens to the best of us,” he shrugs, “And you probably didn’t imagine your partner to be me. Must’ve been let down or something.”
“No!” she blurts out, then a look of alarm crosses over her face, and her tone lowers, “No… No, I never thought of it like that.” Marinette then looks around, and after a moment she drags him to the obscured corner by the shelves. She pauses before she continues, as though she’s having a debate inside her head or gathering the courage to say something.
“Actually, I was wondering if I could make it up to you,” she says, hopeful. “For buying the cat ears. For backing me up at the haunted house. For winning the kitty plushie. For putting up with me on the roller coaster. For avoiding you for an entire week." She sighs. "For running away when we found out.”
Adrien watches her for a second, then he brushes a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. “Then why did you run?”
“I thought…” she whispers, “I thought that after you found out it was me, maybe… maybe you didn’t feel the same.”
He steps closer and grabs her hand, and their fingers naturally intertwine with each other, with no more intention of pulling away.
“You’re right though, when I found out, I didn’t feel the same,” he breathes, “Because I had fallen deeper in love with you.”
It was as if time slowed down, his head angling itself slightly to the side as his lips came closer and closer to hers. He’s surprised to find his lips already parted, and hers slowly drawing nearer. Their breaths mingle, eyes aflutter, then suddenly a thought comes—“Now that I think about it, I don’t feel the same now as I found out.”
He grins as he meets her confused look. “I’m more in love with you today. And probably more the next day. And the day after that. As soon as I saw you screaming at the top of your lungs at the roller coaster, squeezing the soul out of my hand, I knew I was forever a goner for you.”
Marinette exhales. “Sometimes you make it hard for me to choose whether I should punch you or kiss you.”
He acts pensive, as if deliberating it deeply. “I’d take the latter, you already clocked me a while ago.”
“It’s not really my fault when you were asking for it,” she says laughing, swinging both of their arms. “And if I didn't know any better, you probably hid because you were terrified that something in the coffin would jump at you.”
“Didn’t you just thank me for backing you up there a while ago?” he scoffs.
“I was being nice,” Marinette counters, teasing. “You probably just took being terrified in the entire haunted house as an excuse to hold my hand.”
“That isn’t what happened at all!” Adrien denies, his voice reaching a new octave. Actually, it’s exactly what happened, but she didn’t need to know that. “You’re feeling pretty confident, aren’t you.”
Marinette hums. “I feel like I should be since you said you’re in love with me.”
He presses his head against hers. “Now that’s just mean.”
“So you’re actually not?” Marinette asks playfully, her breath tickling his lips.
“I didn’t say that,” he says, squeezing her hand tightly, pressing his lips to her cheek. Maybe kissing on the lips can wait, because he’s not sure if he can stop himself if it starts. “Let’s get out of here before you find something else to drive me crazy.”
Marinette smiles mischievously, without denying anything.
He tries to move out of the corner of the store that they’ve been standing in, exerting a conscious effort to look around for anyone who had been watching them, but it turns out the store was largely empty. With his hand holding hers, he thinks of how nice it would be to walk around in the park, stroll along the Seine, then maybe get some ice cream. A strange activity for the late hours of the night, but for some reason, with her, it made sense.
All of his feelings of worry and doubt had melted away, and all that remained was the bliss that the love he had long kept was actually returned, that she actually felt the same. It was nice to know that his existence had some kind of effect on her too.
Though before they even make it past one shelf from the corner, Marinette reaches out and grabs him.
“Wait,” she calls, taking him by the collar and kissing him. His breath hitches in surprise, and he’s suddenly aware of how chapped his own lips are in the late autumn air, of how her lips taste even sweeter than he’d imagined. Unable to hold back any longer, he turns and cages Marinette against the shelf, placing his hands on the wood on either side of her to brace himself, letting himself kiss her the way he’s been wanting to the entire day.
He rests his hand below her ear, thumb caressing her cheek as they catch their breaths, panting heavily. She runs her fingers down his spine, pulling him close until there’s barely space between them, the proximity causing them to feel their hearts beating hard against their chests.
“Sorry,” he whispers against her mouth.
Marinette, completely pressed against the shelves, smiles against his lips. “I think I did that though.”
“Did you?” he murmurs before kissing her deeply once more, breathing her in.
“Mhmm,” Marinette hums, pulling him closer.
“Are you sure you want to do this in a gift shop, Mari?” he whispers, half in jest and half in seriousness, because it doesn’t really matter if she says yes or no.
“Do what, kitty?”
“Whatever this is you’re leading me into.”
She rolls up on her toes, lips brushing against his mouth, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Adrien smiles as he pulls back and shakes his head, trying to move, “We should get going before you ruin me.”
Marinette pouts, bluebell eyes seemingly trying to take him in. “What makes you think I would do that?”
“Because you already have.”