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Her head rests against Adrien's familiarly sculptured chest, so she can pinpoint the exact millisecond realisation dawns on him.
His heartbeat picks up.
It races with the blood drumming in her own ears, ever in sync. His fingers stop their ministrations and leave a stifling vacancy in place of the stars made out of goosepimples on her bare back.
He clears his throat. "So, New York. Huh."
Marinette swallows through the lump in her throat and finally risks a glance at his face over the red rim of her textile mask. He's looking right back at her and there's no hardness in his eyes.
It only makes the looming sadness radiating from his whole being harder to bear.
"Yes. New York," she nods. There's nothing else she can really do. "I got a really good opportunity in my line of business and—"
She bites her tongue.
It's the inherent necessity of secrets and secret identities and secret relationships that her heart violently rebels against; even when she knows it's no use because it's her own rules putting the nails in her coffin.
But Adrien only smiles at her — in that solemn way of his that makes her heart clench — and kisses her forehead. "I'm happy for you."
Marinette pouts at him. "You should be mad at me.”
He snickers at her sour expression and — heart still working fierce — goes back to painting her shoulder blades with the stars of the night sky. "Well, I'm not."
"You should be, though," she insists and draws herself up on her elbows to look at him properly. "I decided this alone, and I didn't even ask you, and I didn't tell you in advance, and I'm just—” She leans down to murmur against his skin as she kisses his collarbone. “I'm a horrible not-girlfriend."
"I thought we weren't labelling our secret not-relationship," Adrien grins.
"We are not. 'Not-girlfriend' is only the negation of 'girlfriend', so I'm only saying what I'm not, not what I am," Marinette explains with such precision as if she thought long and hard about this.
Which she did, in fact, because coming up with loopholes to counter a potential truth akuma’s power that asks about her boyfriend was always a sort of pastime for her. And, for any other cases of danger, keeping the fact of her not-relationship under lock and key does the trick. She can’t afford to get akumatized herself anyway, so it isn’t like that matters much.
It’s all figured out to the last rumour about Adrien Agreste and Ladybug’s conflicted public relationship. And Adrien goes along with the convoluted plan surprisingly easily because, as it turns out, he very much enjoys doing things with the Protector of Paris; particularly things that in the beginning made her blush to the exact shade of her suit.
"All I'm saying is, you have every right to be mad at me," Marinette reiterates, to get her point across.
"Okay, but that doesn't change that I'm not. I'm happy that you go after your dreams,” he says. His hand comes up to brush her bangs out of her eyes with such a tender motion, it makes her stomach tremble. “I'd feel really guilty if you didn't do this because of me. I don't ever want to hold you back."
She kisses him fervently enough that it washes down the burning words of ‘I love you’ from the back of her throat — because that’s decidedly not something their not-relationship can afford. "And it isn’t permanent, I’m coming back in just a few months. I would never ever leave you behind."
She snuggles onto the crook of his neck and inhales deeply, his scent of sweat and hope filling up her lungs to carry her through one more week of akuma battles, assignments, and university, until she can see him like this again.
Her fingers trail circles on his chest and he holds her tighter. His heartbeat is back to a steady pace, it only skips a beat when he whispers into her hair.
“Once you come back, do you think you’ll be able to be my girlfriend?”
And she knows he means ‘Will this be all over in a few months?’, so it doesn’t matter that she wants to say yes.
She kisses into his neck instead.
“I will try.”