Work Text:
to say i love you
Sometimes Marinette feels so much that she doesn’t think she can rein in her emotions without exploding. She loves fiercely and she loves forever.
Even her ex crush on Adrien hadn’t kept her from staying friends with the blond model.
Which led to her moving in with his cousin, Félix Graham de Vanily, when she was in need of a new roommate. Alya had just gotten engaged to Nino so of course she’d want to live with him now.
Marinette could understand that and she wouldn’t want to take away Alya’s happiness.
However it left her in a bind. She couldn’t afford the huge three bedroom by herself.
So she put the word out to the rest of her friends that she was looking for a roommate, gender didn’t matter. As long as they don’t care that she takes up 2 of the rooms.
That’s when Adrien messaged her saying that his cousin was looking to move to Paris and was looking for somewhere to live. He was clean, could pay on time, and wouldn’t be home very much because he’d be working most of the day.
It sounded almost too good to be true.
And in a way, it was. Because when Félix first got there, he was cold, rude, and callous. He barely interacted with Marinette when they were home together. Which, fine, that was fine because Marinette could just hole herself up into her work room.
But after around 6 months, he seemed to warm up to Marinette. He would take a seat on the chaise lounge in her work room and just read whilst she worked. Or they would make cookies together in the kitchen, laughing when one of them inevitably flicked flour on the other and started an all out war.
It was the little things that got to Marinette and cut through her barbed-wire, electrified-reinforced defences to her heart of steel, one she promised to never let anyone get through again.
When he first woke up in the morning, bed-head still untamed as he put on the pot of coffee and started boiling the kettle for her tea. The way he always had a to-go cup of that tea ready for her to take because he knew she wouldn’t get up until the very last minute.
The way he would have dinner going by the time she got home from her design classes or internship with Audrey.
It was the way he kissed her forehead and wiped her tears after she had a bad day and broke down crying, not saying anything, because nothing could make it better. Just holding her close.
The way he could finish a sentence that she starts, but doesn’t know where she’s going with it persay.
It’s in the way he holds her hand late at night when they’re in the living room sharing the couch with only the lamp to illuminate the room. She’s reading her textbook for class and he’s reading a novel of his choosing.
It’s in the little things and somehow he snuck his way right past those defences and settled right into her heart.
So when she goes home one weekend, she asks her maman to teach her some Mandarin. She knows he doesn’t know the language because he’s told her so before. Her maman is happy to teach her anything she wants to know and gets a knowing look on her face at her daughter’s choice of phrasing, but happily obliges anyway.
I.
The first time Marinette said something to Félix, she had just gotten home from her History of Polka Dots class, who knew learning about polka dots of all things could be so tiring? Félix had some rice balls prepared with salmon and some light broth to go with it. She felt touched as she had once mentioned that as a child, she would demand this very meal from her parents every year on her birthday. Simple, but delicious.
It just comes out of her mouth, she’s helpless to stop it.
“Nǐ duì wǒ lái shuō hěn tèbié.” (You’re special to me.)
Félix’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that mean?”
“Uh… ‘The door is open’?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?” He raised one eyebrow as he looked studiously at her.
“Telling.” She said with a straight face.
He just shrugs his shoulders, “Okay, then. Let’s have dinner.”
II.
The second time she said a new phrase she learned specifically for him, they’re on the couch. He’s got his head on her lap as he reads The Art of War by Sun Tzu. Again.
She’s watching TV, but not really watching, mindlessly carding her fingers through his blond locks when she whispered, “Nǐ ràng yīqiè biàn dé gèng hǎo.” (You make everything better.)
He paused from reading and tilted his head to look up at her. “What’s that mean?” He whispered just as quietly as she had.
“The toaster is broken,” she snarks back, no hesitation, with a shiteating grin on her face.
He laughed lowly and grabbed one of her hands from its perch in his hair and threaded his fingers with it, bringing it down to his lips where a feather-light kiss brushes her knuckles. She inhaled sharply, but still smiled as she went back to watching the random 90’s show she had on.
III.
The third time she had perfect timing. This was one of the rare occasions where she was home first and therefore made dinner for them tonight.
She was just putting the finishing touches on her carbonara florentine, adding some fresh parmesan on top, when he walked through the door still in his business suit and tie with a briefcase. He looked so handsome that she wanted to run up to find out what it would be like to kiss him and mess his perfectly coiffed hair with her fingers.
But instead she just throws him a grin and says, “Nǐ zhào liàngle wǒ de yītiān!” (You brighten my day!)
His mouth opened and closed before he could think of anything to say. So Marinette filled the silence with a bright and cheery, “That means, ‘Dinner is ready.’”
Félix shrugged it off and smiled back, “Smells delicious. Carbonara florentine?”
“You’re favourite! Happy birthday, Félix!”
IV.
The fourth time something stupid comes out of her mouth, they’re at the museum on one of their free Saturdays. She’s showing him her favourite Monet, Water Lilies 1916-19.
“It’s peaceful,” he tells her, “It’s like a whole different world.”
“Nǐ wánchéngle wǒ,” she blurted out, her latest phrase taught by her maman at her request. (You complete me.)
His eyes widened and for a moment she worried that he understood her, but that’s crazy. He said he didn’t know Mandarin. He told her as much when they talked about Adrien knowing it.
“It means, ‘You’re my best friend,’” she said smoothly.
He just nodded and took her hand in his, a small smile blooming on his very kissable and tempting lips. She squeezed his hand with an answering smile of her own.
V.
Marinette let her key sink into the lock and walked in, tired from a long day of her internship. Audrey worked her hard and demanded harder.
All she wanted to do now was take a hot shower and collapse in her bed.
But she could hear Félix already in the shower and so she’d have to wait her turn.
Twenty minutes later, seriously what was that boy doing taking that long?, she could hear the water shut off.
Instantly, she gathered her nighttime clothes and stood impatiently outside the door.
She knocked, “Félix, come on, I just wanna shower and go to bed. I’m tired.” Alright, she may have whined a little bit, but come on, she was tired.
The door flung open and Fèlix appeared in only a towel around his waist, wet water dripping off his perfectly sculpted chest.
Oh boy. She wanted to lick those water droplets right off of him.
But instead she blurted, “Méiyǒu nǐ wǒ huó bù xiàqù.” (I can’t live without you.)
He looked at her questioningly, but not actually saying anything.
“I used all the hot water!” She squeaked, “That’s what I just said.”
He smirked and licked his lips. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. He had to.
“Well, I made sure to leave you some hot water. You’re welcome.” He brushed past her to his own room.
Leaving her to blink and think about the consequences of her own thoughts.
+1.
It all comes to a head on a random Tuesday night.
Marinette has nothing planned to tell him when she breathed out, “Wǒ ài nǐ.” (I love you.)
It had been a really taxing day for her and all she wanted was some dinner and maybe a hug from her favourite person in the world.
Instead, he put the dinner away for later, pulled her onto the couch and massaged the tenseness out of her shoulders.
It felt so domestic.
But she really hadn’t meant to say anything in Mandarin that time. It had just slipped out.
His fingers abruptly stopped kneading her sore muscles. She could feel his breath next to her ear as he leaned into her and whispered, “Wǒ yě ài nǐ.” (I love you too.)
She whipped her head around and twisted her body in his arms to face him, knees on either side of his legs and arms wrapping around his shoulders lazily.
“I thought you couldn’t speak Mandarin!” She cried out indignantly, pouting her lips with an annoyed huff.
“Marinette, of course I speak Mandarin, who do you think Adrien practised on when he was growing up?”
“But you said you didn’t when I brought up Adrien!”
“No, you brought up Adrien’s Mandarin and I just hummed in response, I didn’t say anything about not knowing the language. You came to that conclusion all on your own.”
“Okay, but you didn’t say anything when I gave you the wrong translations on purpose.”
“Honestly? At first I thought that you really didn’t know what you were actually saying. I think I caught on around the fourth time that you actually knew what you were saying, but chose not to tell me. So I respected that. You weren’t ready.”
“And now?”
“Well now, I just couldn’t stand you brushing off your confession because I love you, too.”
“Well I do. Love you, that is.” She kissed his nose.
She kissed his eyebrow. She kissed his cheek. And with one more steamy glance in his eyes, his peridot eyes screaming I love you, she leaned in…
And placed her lips to his, softly.
The End.