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Marinette closed the dressing room door behind her, her heart pounding as if she’d just run a marathon. The pile of clothing in her arms seemed to weigh a ton. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her, looking as anxious as she felt. The dressing room smelled like plastic and stale perfume.
“What if I can’t do this?” she asked.
“Then we’ll go out for ice cream and come back when you feel ready,” said Adrien through the door. “And I’ll be proud of you just the same.”
Hangers clacked together as Marinette set the pile of clothes on the chair in the corner. She took a deep breath, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. She’d been growing her hair out since before she had come out to her parents, but it was slow going.
Marinette waited until her heart stopped thundering. Then she turned her attention to her selections.
The first time Adrien had suggested this adventure, Marinette had laughed in his face. She didn’t have the courage to go clothes shopping in public. That was what the internet was for. Besides, the outfits she had designed for herself would last a while. But Adrien had kept asking in that gentle, persistent way of his, and eventually Marinette had caved.
“You can do it, Marinette,” said Adrien. “Which one are you going to try first?”
That was an impossible question, Marinette thought as she sorted her choices. The maroon dress was beautiful, and she’d love to see what Adrien’s face would look like if she stepped out of the dressing room with it on. But what if it was too beautiful and she looked ridiculous in it?
This feeling was all too familiar. In the past, Marinette had sometimes gotten it in fabric shops when she admired a material or pattern for too long. Like everyone was looking at her, even though no one was there.
She hung the maroon dress on a hook, deciding to ignore it for the time being. Instead, Marinette selected a soft green blouse and a leather skirt she was certain Adrien had slipped into the pile as a joke.
Adrien made an approving noise as she unzipped the leather skirt to put it on. “Bold choice.”
Marinette frowned, hopping on one leg as she pulled on the skirt. “You know what I’m trying on from the sound the zipper makes?”
She could hear Adrien’s smirk. “You forget how much modeling I did even before I transitioned. It’s the sound the material makes, actually.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “Sure it is.”
Adrien snorted. “You know, most people think that’s cool!”
“Do they?”
Marinette was desperately grateful that Adrien was there. Trash talking with him kept her anxiety at bay long enough to pull the blouse over her head. She looked in the mirror, and her eyes widened.
“How did you do it?” Marinette demanded. “This actually works.”
“I know women’s fashion,” said Adrien with another audible smirk. “Do I get to see, purrincess?”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that,” she said, a smile playing about her lips. She looked beautiful, and it was this gorgeous, maddening boy’s doing.
“As you wish, Milady. What about—”
Adrien’s voice trailed off as Marinette opened the dressing room door.
“Whoa,” he whispered. “You look…”
“I know,” said Marinette quietly.
Adrien pumped his fist. “I am so lucky to be dating you!”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “You are such a nerd. What should I try next?”
Adrien leaned past her, looking into the dressing room to study his choices. “The black-and-white skirt,” he said decisively. “I think it’s going to be your favorite.”
Closing the door behind her, Marinette studied the skirt. She could see why Adrien had insisted she try it. It was made of a soft, flowing material with several layers. Tiny black flowers were embroidered all over the uppermost layer.
Keeping the blouse, Marinette peeled off the tight leather skirt and stepped into the black and white one. It was longer than she had realized, nearly reaching her ankles.
Marinette looked in the mirror and loved what she saw. Nothing about her had changed, but everything had. There she was. “Okay,” she said, trying to keep her shimmering cocktail of emotions from seeping into her voice. Ever since she had started her hormonal transition, tears came much more easily than they ever had before. “I’m coming out.”
“Congratulations!” Adrien called back. “Happy Pride!”
“I’m never taking you anywhere again.”
Marinette was still grumbling when she stepped out of the dressing room. Once again, Adrien froze at the sight of her.
“How does it feel?” he asked softly, looking almost spellbound.
“Good,” said Marinette. “It feels good.”
Adrien’s eyes were alight with excitement. “Do a spin,” he said. “You need to try a skirt spin.”
Marinette bit her lip, but Adrien had paid for the entire block of dressing rooms to be emptied while she tried things on. There was no harm in being a little silly, was there?
Slowly at first, she spun in a circle, marveling at the way the beautiful black and white skirt fanned out around her. Marinette spun faster, beaming. Okay. She understood the skirt thing now. This was pretty cool.
“Milady.” Adrien held out a hand to her. “May I have this dance?”
Marinette blushed. Five years into this relationship, she was certain that he would never stop making her blush. “I don’t know how to dance.”
Adrien bowed low. “I’ve been told that I’m a very good teacher.”
Marinette took his hand. Adrien rested his other hand on the small of her back and held her close, swaying.
“Adrien. Can you dance?”
“Not well. A trifling detail, Milady. We shall persevere!” Grinning with reckless abandon, Adrien spun Marinette around, caught her in his arms, and, raising up on tiptoe, kissed her until they were both breathless. “See?” he panted. “I don’t need to have the foggiest idea what I’m doing as long as I can do that.”
“You’re ridiculous,” said Marinette, but she was smiling.
Adrien bowed again. “Your ridiculous boyfriend, at your ridiculous service, Milady.”