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After the final battle was done, Adrien might have been done with his Father, but it seemed his Father’s company wasn’t quite done with him. The contract they had with him to be the face of the brand was still in force.
At least until his 21st birthday.
Marinette glanced at Tikki, her finger hovering over the submit button.
“Are you sure, Marinette?” Tikki asked quietly. “You don’t exactly have a lot of extra time to spare.”
Marinette nibbled at her lip. “I need an internship somewhere.” Her eyes strayed to her phone lock screen, to the slightly somber pair of green eyes staring back at her from the set of the latest magazine cover Adrien was featured on. “Besides, it would be nice to remind Adrien that he still isn’t alone.”
Tikki snorted, diving down to her stash of cookies. “As often as you two are together, it’s a wonder that he could forget.”
One month later, Marinette walked into the hallowed halls of Gabriel. The namesake may no longer be there, but it was still everything she wanted to learn about in order to make her own way in the fashion world.
Of course, the tasks they were given were nowhere near as glamorous as she’d imagined.
A frazzled production manager dumped a pile of shirts into her hands. “Can you mend these?”
Marinette blinked back up at her. “I can try.”
Near the bottom of the pile was a shirt she recognized on sight. Saving it for last, Marinette picked it up, finding a tiny, Kwami tooth sized hole in the sleeve.
Chuckling for reasons she couldn’t explain to her fellow interns, she started to mend they tiny tear, sewing the tiniest heart-shaped stitch into the sleeve.
Hours later in the dimly lit changing room, Adrien prepped for another photoshoot.
Plagg grew suddenly still, a reprieve from his noisy chewing as Adrien slipped the over shirt around his shoulders.
“Hey,” Plagg sniffed, hovering closer. “I think that smells like pigtails.”
“What?” Adrien murmured quietly, blinking in confusion as his Kwami sped around him in a circle. “Are you sure?”
Halting suddenly beside his sleeve, Plagg tapped right there. “I can recognize Tikki’s scent anywhere. Your bug was here…and she left her mark on your clothes.”
Adrien’s eyes narrowed. “You mean where you were gnawing on it earlier.”
“Keep me fed and we won’t have these problems.” Plagg snorted. “Besides, she fixed it.”
Running his fingers over her careful, heart-shaped patch of stitches, Adrien beamed. Just beside it were the tiniest embroidered letters: MDC. “She’s always been good at that.”
Marinette woke up to the drop of something onto her stomach.
“Wha??” She murmured sleepily, her eyes slowly blinking open.
“Good Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Sabine chuckled merrily, holding onto the ladder of her loft bed to keep her balance. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
Grumbling, Marinette dropped back onto the bed. “Mom! It’s Sunday.”
Sabine snorted, tugging slightly at her covers. “Exactly. I had just enough time to go to the store this morning. After we opened. I figured you might want to see what just came out.”
Frowning, Marinette sat back up, before she finally spotted the magazine lying on the bed beside her. Absently, she noted the title was one of the bigger name magazines than Adrien usually appeared in.
The sweetest smile curved Adrien’s lips as his hand rested behind his neck. The effect left him looking every bit the sweet and shy boy she’d first fallen in love with, even if the years had effortlessly broadened his shoulders in spite of the weighty burdens he had secretly carried. However, it was the first time it didn’t look like he was bearing the weight of the world on his back since his Father was taken away.
Marinette smiled. “Adrien looks much more relaxed now. I’m really glad.”
Reaching out to ruffle her bangs, Sabine laughed. “I realize you are tired, Marinette, but you are usually far more observant.”
Nose wrinkling up, Marinette pored back over the page for a full minute more before her mother finally took mercy on her sleep dazed eyes, tapped the white cuff beside his barely exposed wrist. Where her eyes somehow had entirely missed. “My dear child. Is that or is that not your heart on his sleeve?”