Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Marinette woke exhausted.

She dragged herself out of bed, fed the kwamis, kissed Maman and Papa goodbye and headed for school, quickening her step to make up for her lateness. She was excited to see her friends.

Alya practically exploded out of her seat to tell her the Ladyblog had been cited in an international news report, on her scoop that Shadowmoth was reusing old akuma templates with upgraded powers on new victims. Nino’s proud smile lit up his face as he watched Alya talk, his chin resting in his hand. Chloe let out a derisive comment about the state of the media. And Adrien… well.

Adrien did not look normal. He was almost… twitchy. His hair stuck up strangely (which Marinette didn’t think it was capable of) and he had dark circles under his eyes. And he kept looking at her. When she rummaged in her bag, or laughed with Alya, or asked a question in class, he was there, looking at her, his green eyes haunted, as if he was seeing her for the first time.

That was the start of the oddness. It got worse from there.

She left school, ready to walk home, when someone pulled her arm from behind. A hand clapped over her mouth as she shrieked, and suddenly she was flying in the air, landing on a rooftop.

She disentangled herself and turned around, knowing instinctively who had taken her captive. “Chat,” she hissed angrily, keeping her voice down to not attract the attention of pedestrians below.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, Marinette. I’ll give you a warning next time.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, surprised by the apology. She expected a joke, a tease, a jab, but when Chat looked at her, his eyes were vulnerable, almost scared. The winter wind blew his hair to the side, the grey sky clashing with his bright cat eyes. She put her arms around herself, feeling goosebumps pop up.

“Did you, um,” Chat cleared his throat, betraying the nervousness in his voice. “Did you mean what you said yesterday?”

“Did I… what?” Marinette asked, her mind blank. Then she remembered. “Oh. Yes, of course I meant it,” she said.

Chat stared at her in disbelief. “You did?”

“Yes. I meant every word,” Marinette said earnestly. Chat blinked, surprised.

She didn’t know why he was so shocked. An akuma had materialized outside the bakery the day before, setting off bombs to create maximum destruction. While Chat saved Marinette from falling rubble, a daycare centre was struck, a chunk of the building falling onto the street. Chat’s face had slackened, unable to compute the tragedy in front of them. Marinette had said his name, once, twice, three times, but he wouldn’t look at her, his face pale, his hands shaking. Marinette had taken him by the shoulders.

Chat. Paris needs you. Ladybug needs you. You’re a strong, courageous, selfless hero, and you will defeat this akuma.

After a moment, Chat had blinked back tears and nodded, straightening his spine. Thanks Marinette. You always know just what to say.

Now Chat was on a rooftop, looking uncertain and lost again. Marinette stepped closer to him, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“I meant everything I said, Chat Noir. I admire you so much, for your courage, your bravery, your kindness and your humor. You’re an amazing hero and an amazing person. Ladybug is lucky to have you,” Marinette finished a reassuring smile.

“Oh,” Chat said, looking surprised. “Ladybug and I aren’t… you know… a thing.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, unsure of how the conversation got derailed. “Yeah, you’re just partners. I knew that.”

“Right,” Chat said. He was looking at her, almost sizing her up, but with an edge of desperation, as if she held the keys to the world and he couldn’t figure out how. “I’m still trying to get over her. It might take some time.”

“That makes sense,” Marinette said. “It’s not like a switch you can turn off.”

“Exactly,” Chat said, relieved. “I will get over her, though. Because, um… I also meant what I said yesterday,” he added, stumbling a bit on his words.

The part where he said thank you? Marinette didn’t push, since he looked uncomfortable enough as it is. “Okay, good,” she said with a reassuring smile.

“Good,” he repeated, his eyes locked on hers. Then suddenly, he was in front of her, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek and wrapping an arm around her waist. She squeaked as he dropped her gently in an alleyway, gone by the time she turned around.

***

The weirdness didn’t stop on that day.

Adrien was still looking at her, but the bags under his eyes had receded. It was more of a curious, surprised, happy look. He was very gentle with her, speaking softly and letting his hand linger when she borrowed his pen. It was… odd. Unsettling. And wonderful. Did he finally like her back?

But no, that couldn’t be, because when Alya took it upon herself to ask Adrien if he’d go to lunch with Marinette (like a good, meddling best friend does), Adrien gave her an apologetic smile and said he had plans.

Slightly crushed by Adrien’s rejection, but still confused by the state of their friendship, Marinette was very preoccupied during her walk home for lunch. That was until, for the third time in three days, she was forcibly removed from her path by a man in a catsuit.

“Do you always have to kidnap me? Don’t you ever just say hi?” Marinette demanded as he set her down on yet another rooftop. “Maybe a Hey Marinette, how’s it going? Would you mind if I picked you up and we could have a chat? ”

Chat grinned mischievously at her, still far too close, as his hands hadn’t fallen from her hips yet.

“Hey Marinette,” he said normally. Marinette narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“How’s it going?” he continued, his eyes twinkling. “Would you mind if I picked you up, and we could have a chat?”

He looked at her hopefully, and she realized he was expecting an answer. She sighed, throwing her hands in the air. “I suppose,” she said, exasperated.

“Good,” Chat said, tightening his grip on her and leaping them away again. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes tight against his suit. She wondered vaguely where he was taking her, and whether kidnappings would become a regularly scheduled event in her day.

“We’re here!” Chat declared, setting her down. They were at the park.

“You kidnapped me to take me to the park?” Marinette questioned.

Chat flushed. “I, uh, thought you could use a lunch buddy.”

“That would make sense, except you didn’t let me go home to get my lunch,” Marinette said, looking around. He had dropped them in a grove of trees, rays of sunlight dappling the ground around them. It was almost serene, the faint sounds of children playing in the edges of her hearing.

Chat turned and grinned at her. “Don’t worry, I brought enough for both of us,” he said, gesturing to a cooler sitting under a tree, which he had apparently dropped off before going to get her.

Not one to refuse a free lunch, Marinette sat on the grass and opened the cooler carefully. The finger sandwiches were light and fluffy, in perfect triangular shapes. Peach slices accompanied the meal, along with a bottle of sparkling water.

“This is a bit… fancy, don’t you think, Chat?” Marinette asked, a little uncomfortable.

Chat shook his head. “I just asked for a regular packed lunch. My… stepmom, doesn’t seem to know when to tone it down.”

“So this is what your normal meals look like?” Marinette asked, taking a bite of the sandwich. She groaned appreciatively. “Is this brioche?”

Chat grinned ruefully, sitting across from her. “Yeah. It’s no famous bakery, but it’s nice to have good food at home.”

“Well, your stepmom is an amazing cook,” Marinette praised. Chat opened his mouth, about to say something, but apparently decided against it.

“Both your parents bake, don’t they? Which one makes your lunches?” Chat asked.

“Oh, that’s Papa’s job, but Maman always has to double-check to make sure he packed everything. She’s the steady, consistent baker, and Papa is the spontaneous, adventurous baker.”

“And you are…?” Chat asked, slowly.

“The one who burns everything she makes.”

Chat laughed suddenly. “That makes a lot of sense.”

“I just don’t have the patience. Who can sit there and wait for a timer when there are so many other things to do?” Marinette asked, waving her hands.

“I don’t know. I think baking could be relaxing,” Chat said, shrugging.

“Well, you’re welcome to come over and help me bake anytime,” Marinette said, reaching over to grab a peach slice. “Maybe you can stop me from baking my macarons until they’re hard as rocks.”

“They can’t be that bad,” Chat said.

“Oh, they were,” Marinette said regretfully. “Even Maman wouldn’t eat one. But that’s nothing. One time, I was trying to make a meringue cake, but we didn’t have any eggs – “

Marinette regaled Chat with stories from the bakery, from macaron mishaps (The buttercream was so gritty, Papa said it was like licking the sidewalk) to decorating disasters (They were supposed to be roses, but I swear they looked like nipples). By the end of lunch period, they had demolished all the sandwiches, laughed until their stomachs hurt, and agreed to open a novelty bakery, “Marinette’s Macarons: Where No Pastry is Tasty”, if they both failed their schooling.

Chat dropped them in the alley behind the school, his hands brushing hers as he pulled away, reminding Marinette of the oddity that the visit was. It was easy to forget that spending lunch together was, in fact, an abnormal occurrence, when it came so naturally to them.

“So, I’ll, uh, see you soon then,” Chat said, nervousness bleeding into his voice.

“Of course! I’ll see you around,” she replied, giving him a warm smile.

Chat stared at her for a moment, before leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lingered for a second, which she found she didn’t mind. He was an affectionate person after all. She gave him a quick kiss on his opposite cheek, in the customary French way.

“Bye!” she said, waving and hoisting her bag over her shoulder.

She tried to shake off the weirdness of their goodbye as she walked back to class. Luckily, she was distracted by Adrien, who looked quiet, ruffled, and content. Seems like whatever plans he’d had for lunch went well. Marinette felt a twinge of hurt, but overall, she was glad Adrien was happy.

***
A toy mouse dropped in front of Marinette on her way to school.

She knew instinctively who it was from. And she kind of hated that she knew so quickly. But she looked up, and there he was, grinning down at her from a window ledge. She stuck her tongue out at him, before bending over to pick up the poor mouse from the sidewalk.

There was a note attached to the toy. Lunch later?

Marinette stared at it, trying to be annoyed, but unable to stop the smile pulling at her lips. This boy. Absolutely ridiculous. So dramatic.

“Don’t you have a cell phone?” she called up, exasperated.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Chat replied, grinning. “Is that a yes?”

She pursed her lips. “This time, I’m bringing the food.”

Chat’s grin widened. “I can’t wait.”

***

The next few weeks were good. Still weird, but good.

“That one is a soccer ball,” Chat said, pointing.

Marinette craned her head to see which cloud Chat was referring to. “Doesn’t that mean it’s a circle?”

“No way, I can tell, it’s definitely a soccer ball,” Chat said. He looked over at her, the sun shining off his hair. “Though I am pretty bad at soccer, so maybe you shouldn’t take my word for it.”

Marinette snorted, remembering his disastrous attempts at goalie. “That’s an understatement.”

“You’re mocking me,” Chat sighed dramatically, letting his hand fall to his heart. “I’m wounded.”

“You started it!” Marinette protested. “Hey, look, now it’s a rugby ball.”

The lookoff was fairly deserted, picnic tables sparsely occupied, the cold weather scaring away delicate Parisians. Which was a good thing; having a public friendship with Chat was not the best idea for the guardian of the miraculous. They sat side by side on the crisp grass, having finished their lunch with time to spare before class. They could see the Champs-Élysées from there, but for some reason, they chose to focus on the clouds.

“That one looks like a mouse,” Chat said.

Marinette squinted. “Where?”

“There. See?”

Marinette shook her head. “Nope. I think you’re seeing what you want to see, Kitty.”

“Don’t call me Kitty. And I’m serious, see, it’s got little feet, and a tail – wait, see,” Chat scooted closer to her, putting two fingers on her chin and gently guiding it in the right direction.

“It’s next to the puffy one, the one that looks like Greenland,” he said. Marinette shook her head, feeling his hair tickle her cheek. He sighed, picking up her arm and pointing.

“Oh, I found it!” Marinette said, spotting the cloud. She tilted her head, considering. “That looks more like an anteater.”

“It does not,” Chat said defensively.

“Does too. See, the legs are chunky.”

“Yeah, but the snout is too short,” Chat said matter-of-factly. Marinette smiled at his genuine defensiveness over the shape of the cloud.

“It’s not your fault,” she soothed. “It’s probably the miraculous of the cat talking.”

“No way,” Chat said. “The only feline characteristic I get from the miraculous is a craving for soft cheeses.”

“Really? That’s it?” Marinette said.

“Actually, now that you mention it,” Chat said quietly. “I guess I can… feel the mice around me.”

“You can?” Marinette asked, her eyes widening.

“Yeah, but only if I concentrate,” he said seriously.

“Are there any around right now?” Marinette asked, genuinely curious.

She watched closely as Chat’s eyes slid shut, his breathing evening out. His face was inches away, their sides still pressed together. His eyes moved behind his eyelids, like they were tracking something. A cat ear flicked. Marinette held her breath, not wanting to make any noise to disrupt his concentration.

His eyes snapped open. “I found a mouse.”

“Really? Where?” Marinette asked in a hushed tone.

“Right… HERE!” Chat yelled, grabbing her middle and tackling her to the ground. Marinette fell back against the grass, laughing as Chat’s hands started tickling her ribs.

“CHAT!” she shrieked. People glanced over from the picnic tables. “Stop, stop, please,” she said, gasping for air. Chat’s hands relaxed, his body still fully on top of hers as he grinned down at her.

“Did I get you?” he asked, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Marinette pursed her lips. “No.”

Chat’s smile widened. “Whatever you say, Princess.” He rolled off her, letting out a sigh as he relaxed back onto the grass. “But I totally got you.”

“Totally didn’t.”

“Totally did. Hey, look, that one is Jagged Stone.”

Every lunchtime spent together made it easier and easier for Marinette to forget the weirdness of the situation. Sure, Chat showed up out of the blue and started wanting to have lunch with her a few times a week, but he’s probably just lonely.

“Chat, I’m serious, I’m not a good skater.”

“That’s because you haven’t had me as your teacher.”

“Actually, it’s because I have two left feet.”

“Well, I have four feet, so I’ve got enough for both of us.”

“Paws. You have paws.”

“And you are paws-itively going to crush it,” Chat reached out and took both her hands, attempting to lead her onto the ice.

“We don’t even have skates!” Marinette protested, digging her heels in. “We can’t skate only wearing our shoes. And skating on a frozen parking lot is definitely dangerous.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Chat asked. She glared at him, but he just looked right back at her.

Marinette sighed. She gripped Chat’s gloves with her cold, bare hands (who would have thought it would drop below freezing in Paris, anyway? ) and stepped tentatively onto the ice. Her foot slipped immediately, and she lurched backwards.

Chat quickly pulled her forwards to balance her, but her feet slipped out from under her and she crashed into his chest. He managed to stay upright, one arm shooting out for balance and the other wrapping around her. She gripped his shoulders, leaning heavily on him.

“I’m going to crack my skull and bleed to death on the pavement!” Marinette shrieked.

“And you call me dramatic,” Chat murmured, tightening his grip around her middle. “Keep yourself centered, let your weight rest directly below you.”

“I really don’t think so Chat, this was a mistake—” Marinette blabbered, nervousness welling up in her throat.

“Hey,” he said softly. Marinette looked up. Chat was calm, focused, grounded. His eyes were sincere in a way she rarely ever saw. “Just focus on me, okay?” He gave her a wry smile. “When have I ever let you down?”

Slowly, Marinette let her weight sink, her scrabbling feet planting down firmly. Chat kept his grip on her, steadying her wobble.

“Good,” he said. “Now keep your feet flat on the ground. As long as your balance is centered, you can shuffle your feet around the ice.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Marinette whispered.

“It is,” he said simply. He gently extracted himself from her, taking her hands again. She stared at him with wide eyes, terrified that he was leaving her. Instead, he gripped her hands, pulling her forwards as he shuffled backwards. Marinette slid her foot forward, then the other. She let out a breathless laugh as she glided slowly across the ice.

“I think I’m doing it!” she exclaimed.

“You’re doing great,” he praised warmly.

Marinette pushed forward, looking down at her feet to watch herself glide across the ice with more confidence. Chat slowly loosened his hands on hers, distancing himself. Marinette gripped tighter.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” Chat said innocently.

“Don’t you dare!” she shrieked, falling forward as he let go of her hands.

“Balance, Marinette! You’ve got this!” Chat encouraged.

Marinette let herself slide to a stop, her arms out at her sides. She glared up at him, a few feet in front of her, holding back a grin.

“You’ll be sorry when I break my neck!” Marinette threatened. Chat let out a full belly laugh, before taking a running start and gliding on the ice. She watched him from a distance, an easy smile on his face as his hair blew back in the wind.

Marinette looked down at her feet again, letting one slide out, then the other. She shuffled gently, letting herself move incrementally across the ice. “Where did you learn to skate?” she called out.

“My dad insists I be good at everything,” Chat responded airily.

“Sounds exhausting,” Marinette commented.

“It is. Look, you’re doing it!”

“I guess I am,” Marinette said triumphantly. She didn’t imagine she could run on the ice quite as easily as Chat could, but she also suspected his super-human agility had something to do with it.

“We’ll have to try with skates soon, in a real rink.”

“Woah, Kitty, not so fast,” Marinette protested.

“Don’t call me Kitty,” he reminded her.

“Sorry,” Marinette said. “I think attaching blades to my feet is the worst thing I could do in this situation.”

“You’ve got me, remember?” Chat called back. Marinette looked up to see him speeding towards her. She shrieked, throwing her arms up in defense, but he had timed it perfectly, only bumping into her slightly as he slid to a stop, his hands coming around to rest on her hips to steady her. He looked down at her and grinned. “I’d never let you fall.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest as she looked up at him, his tousled hair and genuine smile, his touch warm and assuring. He had been so good at calming her down, teasing when appropriate and serious when needed. He was the person she would feel most comfortable skating with.

“Okay,” Marinette said quietly, more as something to say than as a response to his words.

“Perfect,” Chat said, tucking a loose strand of hair out of her face. He gave her a wicked smile. “It’s a date.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him at his choice of words, but he was already taking off again, attempting a triple spin. She laughed as he tumbled over on the ice, his words fading quickly from her mind.

Chapter Text

“Marinette, I am so sorry – you wouldn’t believe how clumsy I am!”

Marinette stared in horror at the remnants of her school project. She had spent the whole night perfecting it – a 3D replica of a dying sun, bursting with sparkle and shine, crafted delicately with pieces of tinsel and satin wrapping around styrofoam, shooting out into a pitch black atmosphere diorama. It was one of the most beautiful things she had created, and it had been smashed to the ground by Lila Rossi.

“I’m sure you can fix it, Marinette! Here, let me help you –“

“It’s fine,” Marinette said hollowly. She looked up from the wreckage to see the whole class staring at her, each in front of their own posterboards and dioramas. A twinge of justification went through her when she saw Adrien’s furious face, but mostly she felt defeated.

“I insist, you must let me help – where does this, uh, twisty thing go?”

“Really, Lila, it’s fine,” Marinette repeated. Nothing would save this project now; they were presenting to the judges after lunch. There was no time, no materials, nothing to be done. She looked up at her poster, the pictures of black holes feeling far too familiar at that exact moment.

“I’ll just present with the posters,” Marinette said, addressing herself to the class. “It will be fine.”

She gratefully accepted a box from Ms. Bustier, bending down to pick up the biggest pieces. She tensed when she felt someone kneel down next to her, believing it to be Lila, but she was surprised to see Adrien’s face next to hers.

“I saw it all happen,” he whispered angrily. His eyes were narrowed as they stared daggers at Lila, his cheeks red. “Do you want me to tell Ms. Bustier?”

Marinette shook her head, feeling exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally. She had been so nervous, so excited, she had worked so hard, all for this. She should have known Lila wouldn’t let her have her moment.

“It will just make it worse,” Marinette whispered back. She straightened up, giving the class a smile. “I’ll ask the janitor for a broom,” she said, infusing her voice with fake cheer.

She carried her pieces to the garbage bin, dumping them unceremoniously before pushing the door open. She broke into a run as soon as she left the class, passing by the other classrooms, the janitor’s closet, out the front doors of the school.

Marinette gulped in a breath of fresh air, the cloudy day justifyingly dreary. Disappointment welled up within her, her breaths coming in short gasps as she scanned the street, searching for a place to break down in peace. Her vision swam as she walked down the steps, a hand on the wall for balance, taking a sharp turn into the alleyway behind the school. She slid down the wall, her gasps devolving into sobs, breaking out of her chest and filling the air around her. She clapped a hand over her mouth, attempting to dampen the noise.

She tried to force her breathing into normalcy, but she skipped and hiccupped on every breath. The rational part of her brain knew she was just overtired, from the akumas, from the project, from the guardianship, from the bakery, from every single thing she had precariously balanced in her life, all resulting in her sobbing outside of her school over a ruined piece of styrofoam. But somehow, no matter how rational she forced herself to be, the tears wouldn’t stop coming.

She flinched back when she felt a hand on her shoulder, shielding herself with her arm. She blinked through the tears to see Chat kneeling in front of her, his eyes full of concern, his hand gently resting on her shoulder.

Chat Noir? What are you doing here? We didn’t have a lunch planned for today…

She tried to say something, but she was choked out by another sob. Chat’s hand gripped her shoulder tightly as he leaned in, letting his forehead rest against hers. The small gesture of affection just made it worse, and her sobs wracked her frame with renewed vigor.

They both turned when they heard a classmate yelling her name.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Chat asked softly.

Marinette nodded, not trusting her voice, and let herself be wrapped up in his arms.

She shut her eyes tight, feeling her tears create wet spots in his suit as she buried her face against his shoulder. His hands tightened protectively around her as she let out another sob, feeling herself being carried upwards by his staff. The wind whipped through her hair as they ran.

“Where do you want to go? Home?” he asked, his voice close to her ear.

Marinette shook her head. She couldn’t handle her parent’s sympathy, their disappointment. She also didn’t want him to leave, she realized as she readjusted her grip around his neck. She wanted to stay with him.

He nodded, his hair brushing her forehead, and said nothing more. Marinette closed her eyes and forced herself to focus on his heartbeat, his breathing, the smell of his shampoo. By the time they had dropped onto solid ground, her panicked sobs had subsided into sniffs and hiccups.

Chat let her feet down from the princess hold, and she let herself be dropped reluctantly. She wasn’t ready to stray far from him yet, though, and she quickly re-wound her arms around his middle, leaning on him and resting her head on his chest.

She felt him chuckle, his gloved hands pushing strands of hair away from her tear-soaked face. He held her for a second before seemingly coming to a decision. He picked her up in a princess hold again before plopping down on the grass, letting her legs fall over his and her head rest on his shoulder.

Marinette lost track of how long they stayed there, her laboured breaths warming his suit, his mouth murmuring comforting words into her hair, the birds chirping lightly in the trees surrounding them. Her breathing eventually evened out, her eyes sliding shut as she let Chat’s steady heartbeat guide her into a light sleep.

***

She slowly drifted back into consciousness, becoming aware of the crick in her neck, her sticky eyes, her damp face. She groaned into the warm body she was pressed against, and was surprised to hear a huff of a laugh.

The memories came back as she straightened up, rubbing her eyes and squinting against the sun. As she gathered her bearings, she realized they were in the same spot where they had their first lunch together.

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“About halfway through lunch period,” Chat responded.

Marinette stretched her arms, trying to regain mobility in her back. “Sorry for falling asleep on you,” she said.

“I’m glad you did,” Chat responded, brushing a hair off her face. “It seems like you needed it.

She glanced over at him, his face close to hers, his mouth slightly tilted up into a smile. Marinette could only imagine how terrible she looked right now, eyes puffy, hair messed up, lines on her face from where it was pressed against Chat’s suit. She was surprised at the shot of embarrassment that coursed through her at the thought. Why would she care about her appearance around Chat? It was just Chat.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, allowing her to block her train of thought.

Marinette sighed. “Just a girl in my class who likes to make my life miserable. It’s not worse than anything else she’s done, it’s just…” She paused, trying to identify the emotions weighing down on her heart.

“I’m disappointed in myself,” she said honestly, looking down at her hands where they twisted on her lap. “I got my hopes up. She hadn’t done anything for awhile, so I thought she had stopped trying to ruin my life. I let my guard down, and she had the perfect opportunity to ruin my project. It’s my fault,” she said, shaking her head at her own stupidity.

“Hey,” she heard Chat say, his hand stilling hers. “No one is to blame here but L—the girl in your class. You can’t blame yourself for her cruelty.”

“But I can control my reactions to her,” Marinette argued. “I want to show her she’s not affecting me, that I don’t care what she does. But every time I think I get a grip, that she can’t hurt me anymore, she strikes again.”

“Still,” Chat said firmly. “You’re allowed to be upset when things go wrong. You shouldn’t have to lower your expectations.”

“I just feel so naïve,” Marinette said, shaking her head. “I’m always shocked when she pulls a stunt like this, when I should have known.”

“Is there anyone in your class who can help you?” Chat asked.

“Alya and Nino don’t realize she’s being mean on purpose,” Marinette sighed. “Neither do the other girls. I think Chloe knows she’s a liar, but I’m not that desperate yet. And then there’s Adrien.”

“Adrien?” Chat prompted.

“Yeah, but he was the one that told me to ignore her. And he’s been acting… weird, around me lately. I don’t think I can go to him.”

“Okay,” Chat replied, his cheeks suddenly red.

“But at least I have you,” Marinette said.

Chat gripped her hand. “You’ll always have me.”

Marinette rubbed her face, trying to wipe away the remnants of her tears. “I should go back now. I still need to present; I don’t want Lila thinking she got the best of me.”

Chat gave her a wry smile. “That’s my girl.”

Butterflies erupted in Marinette’s stomach. Presentation jitters, she thought firmly as she looked up at Chat’s fond face, his hair haloed by the sun, suddenly very aware of her body pressed up against his lean frame.

The presentation went as well as could be expected; no first place prizes for Marinette, but none for Lila either. Max and Markov won for their research on the representation of AI in media and film; Rose received an honorable mention for her engaging presenting skills.

Marinette glanced over at Adrien a few times, considering Chat’s suggestion, but he seemed preoccupied, as he always did, purposefully glancing away right as Marinette looked over, smiling at the ground one second then glaring at Lila the next. The old Marinette would have taken any excuse to ask Adrien for help; but now, with Chat as her friend, she could take a step back and realize when the appropriate time was to approach Adrien. She still liked him of course – how could she not? – but it was nice to not have all her thoughts consumed by him, like they once were.

As it was, she couldn’t wait to tell Chat about the presentation at their next lunch date.

***

A soft thump sounded behind Marinette. She turned around, grinning already, to look up at him.

“Where are we going today?” she asked.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like surprises.”

“You’ll like this one,” he said, putting his arms around her waist. “Hold on tight.”

Marinette threw her arms around his neck easily, comfortable with their method of travel. Chat let his staff extend, vaulting them upwards.

“Close your eyes,” he said, landing on a rooftop. “You’ll ruin the surprise.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but closed them anyway, humoring him. The wind blew through her hair as he ran, and Chat’s suit warm beneath her cheek.

They landed gently, Chat depositing her feet on the ground. She kept her hands on his shoulders to keep herself steady, her eyes still squeezed shut. She felt him lean in, hair tickling her cheek.

“You’ll have to keep your eyes closed,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. A shiver ran down Marinette’s spine. “I need to de-transform to get us to our destination. Is that okay?”

She nodded, her eyes screwed shut, as he took her hand. She heard him whisper the de-transformation, and suddenly the hand in hers was warm, her skin on his skin. She let out a slight gasp, clutching the hand more tightly as if it might disappear.

She heard him chuckle, and felt the fabric of his shirt against her arm. She wondered desperately what kind of clothes Chat wore. Was his hair different? She itched to reach up and feel it, just to make sure it was the same shaggy blonde. But she was being pulled forward by the hand, instructions whispered into her ear at steps and ledges. Suddenly, she heard a woman’s voice beside them.

“Right this way, Miste—” Whoever was speaking was quickly cut off. Were they about to say Chat’s name? She stepped through what felt like a doorway, and heard a murmur of voices all around her. She was guided on a plush carpet, the hand in hers gentle and firm. Suddenly the voices disappeared, the silence around them heavy and thick.

“Claws out,” he murmured.

The hand in hers was suddenly gloved again, and pulling away from her. She reached out.

“Almost ready,” Chat whispered. “One second.”

Marinette waited, pitch black surrounding her, only Chat’s rustling filling up the space. She heard him take a deep breath.

“Okay. Open.”

Marinette opened her eyes, then wondered if she had at all. She blinked, adjusting to the dim lighting of the room. Chat was lightly illuminated, standing in the center of the room, a picnic blanket laid out at his feet, a basket next to it. She opened her mouth to ask where they were, when her eyes were drawn to the wall behind him. The wall covered in stars.

She gasped as she looked upward at the domed ceiling, stars and planets stretched out as far as the eye can see. Swirls of the milky way moved languorously, stars twinkling and shifting. The scenes in the dome shifted slowly as she watched, constellations rising and falling, comets and planets streaking across the sky.

“Where… what – “ Marinette asked, her voice trailing off. She felt like she was floating, lost among the twinkling supernovas.

She reached out towards the wall, where the stars twinkled invitingly, when it seemed like they reached back. She gasped as the stars seemed to emerge from the wall, floating towards her and upward, the constellations taking form all around her.

She laughed as she attempted to touch a holographic star, her hand swiping through the air. Northern lights shimmered around her, encasing the room in dark purply-blue lights.

“Where are we?” she breathed, looking up at the stars surrounding her.

“Le musée de l’air et de l’espace, » Chat’s deep voice came from somewhere in the room with her. Marinette’s eyes were taken by the bright shimmers surrounding her, turning slowly to take it in as best she can.

“I’ve been to this museum many times,” Marinette murmured. “I’ve never seen this exhibit.”

“It’s, um, new,” Chat said, nerves bleeding slightly into his voice. Marinette looked over, her eyes finding him in the darkness. There was a faint blush on his cheeks. “I was able to get us private access for an hour. We’re some of the first people to visit.”

“You did that?” Marinette asked, in awe. Her attention was drawn to a shooting star, zooming over her head. She caught sight of a constellation and gasped. “Oh, that’s Casseopia! Poseidon unleashed a sea monster on her, after she claimed she was the most beautiful person in the world. And over there, should be the King… oh, there he is! His constellation is an M, and she’s the W, and they had a daughter…”

She wandered the exhibit, the constellations coming to life in front of her eyes as she rattled off her research.

“…and he wasn’t a good guy at all, but sure, put him in the sky and make his belt one of the core tenets of the constellation—”

“Marinette.” Chat caught her arm. She forced herself away from the stars and looked at him, focusing on his eyes. He was smiling, as if she had done something funny. “We should sit. The presentation will start soon.”

“The presentation?” Marinette asked, astounded. There was more to this?

Chat nodded, pulling her down on the picnic blanket beside him. “Did I tell you there was a black hole portion to this exhibit?”

Marinette turned to him, mouth dropped open, to say you did NOT mention that, when suddenly, the world around them exploded into colours. She grabbed Chat’s hand, startled, as the reds turned into blues and the supernova encased them.

She felt herself getting pulled back, and she laid beside him, the dome above their heads showing with clarity the exploding star. Colours whizzed by them, shots of white mixed with blues and purples, streaks of orange where different elements interacted during the implosion, remnants exploding and transforming before their eyes. A voice narrated the creation of the neutron star, its accumulation of weight, and collapse into a black hole.

It was better than she could have imagined. Her research came to life before her, laying out the infinite mysteries of the universe in clear and comprehensive colour. Marinette continuously whispered facts to Chat to complement the presentation. She worried at one point that she was annoying him – but when she turned, and he had a fond, gentle look in his eyes, his head tilted to look at her, so she figured it was okay.

The presentation ended, and Marinette sat in awe. She reached up to connect the dots between the stars, her hand passing seamlessly through the holograms.

“Chat,” she whispered. “This is the best place I’ve ever been.”

His blonde hair smushed against the ground as he tilted his head to look at her. “Really?”

“Absolutely! I mean.—look at it!” she gestured widely at the stars surrounding them. “I can’t believe this exists, much less that I get a chance to see it!”

“I had to bring you here,” Chat said softly. “As soon as I heard about it, I knew I needed to bring you here.”

She rolled over to face him, pillowing her cheek on her hands. “Thank you,” she said genuinely. “It’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

A blush spread over the tops of Chat’s cheeks, his green eyes softening as he looked at her. She grinned back, feeling so content, to be in a magical place with a magical person.

He opened his mouth, about to speak, when his stomach rumbled. Marinette laughed, sitting up and stretching.

“We better eat if we’re going to make it back to class on time,” she said.

Chat sat up with her, nodding, whatever he had been about to say lost in the galaxies. They shared the sandwiches, Marinette unable to stop herself from sharing facts about constellations as she spotted them. She laughed as Chat tried to bat at the stars as they whizzed by, enraptured by the holograms like a cat with a laser pointer.

He finally stood, cricking his neck and checking his baton.

“Alright, it’s time again,” Chat said, taking both of her hands and stepping close. “Close your eyes.”

“Wasn’t this a bit risky?” Marinette asked, the reality of the situation catching up with her. “You know, for your identity?”

“I requested 100% privacy, no cameras or interruptions,” Chat reassured her. “The only person who knew it was me that booked the room was the manager who let us in.”

So, there is a manager at the museum that would be able to tell me Chat’s identity. Marinette chewed her lip, her chest tight. What if the manager recognized her in the future? What if they slipped up and told her Chat’s identity?

“Hey,” Chat squeezed her hands. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got it all under control.”

She looked into his eyes, so earnest as he reassured her. She took a deep breath, willing for her lungs to work properly, for the swirling dread in her stomach to dissipate. She could trust Chat; he has kept his identity a secret for this long, he wouldn’t do anything to blow his cover now.

She nodded at him, and his grin returned, albeit a bit more nervous than before. He stepped even closer, and Marinette tilted her head up, startled.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered, nerves bleeding into his voice. Marinette’s brow furrowed, concerned by his change of demeanor, but closed her eyes regardless. He let go of one of her hands, and Marinette waited to be guided out of the room, but instead the hand came to rest on her cheek, tilting her head up slightly. She felt him move closer, and suddenly his mouth had covered hers, kissing her gently.

Marinette started in surprise. This was not what she was expecting. His lips moved lightly against hers, tentative, gentle. She felt herself relaxing despite her shock. It was nice being this close to Chat, his scent surrounding her and his hands on her body. It felt… good. Like everything falling into place, a perfectly logical thing to do. She gave a little sigh, swaying towards him, reveling in the feel of his lips on hers.

He broke away, and Marinette kept her eyes closed, her mind slow and dreamy. She heard him whisper the detransformation, then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before asking if she was ready. Marinette nodded, unsure of what she was agreeing to, her mind still blank, thoughts trailing like snails. She had the feeling that something should be wrong, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint what.

The trip back to school was quick and seamless, her slowed-down brain making the rest of the world appear to be in hyperspeed. It was only when Chat said goodbye to her in the alley behind the school, leaning in for another quick kiss on the lips, before grinning like he had won the lottery and slipping away, that Marinette’s mind caught up to her body.

Reality crashed like freezing water as she stared at the place he had just been, panic rising in her chest as she realized she had kissed Chat Noir.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day was spent ignoring it. Marinette went to class, did her schoolwork, laughed with Alya and made weekend plans with the girls. Sometimes, a feeling of dread would creep over her, that things were no longer in their place, no longer as they should be, but she quickly blocked those thoughts and focused on other things. She doodled hers and Adrien’s names next to each other, ignoring the sinking guilt in her stomach.

By the next day, Marinette had convinced herself it’s totally normal for friends to kiss each other, platonically. Especially her and Chat; their friendship had always been different, a little closer and a little more touchy than normal. So what if they liked kissing each other? It didn’t change anything. He liked Ladybug, she liked Adrien, and the two of them were good friends.

And, if she decided not to tell anyone about their kissing, that’s normal too. Because really, it’s not a big deal.

Happy with her conclusion, Marinette continued life as normal. She kissed Maman and Papa goodbye, walked to class, had lunch with Alya. She worried about her test the next day, and about Shadowmoth’s uncharacteristic silence, and she didn’t worry about anything else. She successfully occupied her mind as she studied hard for her test, harder than she had ever studied for school before.

Until she heard a tap on her trapdoor.

Chat Noir knelt in front of her hatch, his face pale, his eyes dulled.

“Chat?” she asked, panic flying through her body at the lifeless look on his face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I, uh..” his face cleared slightly as he focused on her. He scratched the back of his neck. “I just wanted some company. It’s been… a rough day.”

“Of course,” Marinette said quickly. “Come in.”

Chat dropped down next to her on the bed, reaching up to carefully hook the latch, the arm muscles under his suit shifting. He looked very out of place, a mass of black in her pink, frilly room.

He looked over at her, arms coming down. “Sorry for dropping in like this,” he said, ashamedly. “I just didn’t know where to go, and… I really wanted to see you.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said reassuringly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Chat nodded, staring at her as if he can’t believe he’s there. Marinette flushed under the scrutiny, clearing her throat.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking…what happened?” she asked gently, hoping not to scare him away.

Chat sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “It’s nothing in particular. Like, it’s not one bad thing, it’s a bunch of annoying, little things. Y’know?”

Marinette nodded, staying quiet, hoping he would say more.

“It’s mostly… my dad. Sometimes I feel like I’m disturbing him just by living in his house. I’m not allowed to make noise, or ask questions, or have emotions. I can’t make any of my own decisions.”

“That’s… awful,” Marinette said, her heart sinking. She had no idea Chat had a bad home life.

“Yeah. At this point I’m just a burden to him. Every once in awhile, I look up how to get emancipated. But then I think, no, that’s ridiculous. You love your dad, and he’s never done anything wrong. Why am I so ungrateful? It must be me, it’s my problem, and I just need to fix it.”

“Chat,” Marinette said, reaching out to cover his hands, that were wringing on his lap. “It’s not your fault. You should feel comfortable in your home.”

Chat sighed, his voice miserable. “I know. But I can’t help but wonder if I was better at my extracurriculars, he would be happier. Or if I was a better son, I would be okay with what I have.”

“You’re an amazing person, Chat,” Marinette urged. “Any parent would be lucky to have you as a son. I’m sure your dad loves you, even if he doesn’t show it.”

Chat shook his head, but didn’t argue with her. “Thanks Marinette,” he said.

“Hey,” she squeezed his hand, frowning at him. “I mean it.”

He looked up, a little alarmed at her insistence. “I believe you.”

“Good,” Marinette said forcefully. “Because I’m very smart. And I’m always right.”

Chat cracked a smile. “That is true,” he admitted.

He looked back down at his hands, his shaggy hair falling in his face. He still looked sad, worried, unsure. He had a freckle on his jawline. Marinette leaned in and kissed him.

It was quick, chaste, and Chat looked up in surprise. Marinette blushed fiercely, wondering what on earth had come over her. Then Chat was leaning in, his hand cupping her face, and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore.

His lips were soft, his hands were gentle, and his hair slid through her fingers like water. She wondered why they hadn’t been doing this all along. She swayed back from the force of him coming closer, grabbing her waist and bringing her in like he never planned to let go. The world melted away to just them, together, the smell of his hair and his perfect presence in her bright pink room.

He gave her another kiss before he left, his hands lingering by her sides, his mouth quirked up in a smile as he looked down at her. The winter wind was blowing, and she was sure her cheeks were red, though she wasn’t cold at all. She waved as he jumped off the ledge of her balcony, soaking in the last few moments of happiness before the realization of what she had done would set in.

***

Marinette hardly slept.

Her alarm rang in her ears as she stared unseeingly at the ceiling. She got out of bed and fed the kwamis in succession, counting them and counting them again, their little “thank yous” floating past her. She jumped at the sound of her mother calling her, dropping a macaron and stepping on it accidentally.

Her stomach twisted in knots at the sight of the breakfast her father had laid out for her. Her parents were in conversation, their words garbling together. Marinette’s heartbeat picked up as she glanced around her, eyes resting on her schoolbag, her parents, the window, back to her parents. Something was wrong. But she couldn’t pinpoint what.

She took a bite of croissant, the pastry too dry and too big in her mouth, before heading for the door, the bell to the bakery jangling sharply.

She startled at the sight of Chat leaning on the wall outside.

She shouldn’t be so surprised; he had taken to showing up randomly to walk her to school in the mornings. He claimed it was part of his plan to “protect Parisians from evil”, but he had no excuse for why he sometimes held her hand while doing it.

He held out a cup of coffee from a shop down the street. “One medium coffee, black,” he said with a wry smile. “I figured you’d need this, since we were up late last night.”

Marinette took the cup and avoided his eyes. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“I know. I wanted to,” he replied, pushing off the wall to start walking.

Marinette fiddled with the cup, thankful for the distraction in her hands, providing some warmth. She couldn’t bring herself to take a sip.

“How are you feeling?” Marinette asked, attempting normalcy. “Any better?”

Emotions flicked across Chat’s face as he looked away from her. “Better. I just get… overwhelmed sometimes. I’m sorry for burdening you. I shouldn’t have made you deal with that.”

“Hey,” Marinette said, frowning slightly. “Don’t ever apologize. You can come to me anytime.”

Chat let out a breath, finally looking at her again from under his fringe. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

Marinette’s heart squeezed at his earnest expression, looking back down at her coffee, taking care to not let it slosh over the sides. The loud morning sounds of the city prevented them from talking for a few blocks, allowing Marinette to attempt to calm her breathing, and her speeding heart.

“How are you?” Chat asked eventually. Marinette started. “You seem a little… preoccupied, today.”

“Oh,” Marinette said. Of course he would notice her subduedness. The label on the coffee cup started coming apart in her hands as she tore at it.

She should have had an answer prepared. She should know why her stomach is churning, why her mind won’t go off autopilot, why she can’t sleep at night. Why didn’t she know?

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Marinette said, avoiding the question.

“Is it the test today?” Chat questioned.

Marinette was halfway through shaking her head, before she nodded. “Yeah, I’m a little worried about it.”

“Oh,” Chat said. “I’m sorry I interrupted your studying.”

“Don’t be,” Marinette said. “I studied enough. It’s just nerves. I’ll definitely pass.”

“You definitely will,” he agreed. “You’ll get an A without even trying.”

“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves,” Marinette said, turning to face him as they arrived at the designated alleyway, where Chat had to leave her. “But thanks for your support. And the coffee, this will definitely help.”

“What are boyfriends for?” Chat asked. Marinette looked up in shock, and he took the opportunity to lean in and kiss her cheek, quickly but gently. He smiled wide at her expression, giving her a wave and letting his staff take him away.

Marinette’s back hit the wall of the alley, her eyes unseeing as she stared at the spot he had been. Boyfriend.

The school bell in the distance got her feet moving, walking into the school in a trance, her hands gripping the cooling coffee like a lifeline. Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend. Boyfriend?!

He was not her boyfriend. No way, not at all! He had never even asked her out, for heaven’s sake. She hadn’t given him any indication that she liked him more than a friend. Where on earth did he get that idea?

She slid into her seat, faintly hearing Alya beside her. “Marinette? You good, girl?”

But Marinette’s mind was flashing through memories. Kisses on the cheek that lasted too long. Having lunch together – lunch dates – on picnic blankets with her favourite foods. Walking her to school in the morning, holding her hand, for no reason. And kissing. Kissing, Marinette realized with horror, was definitely not a normal, friend thing to do.

Anxiety rose from where it had been buried deep in her gut, clutching to her lungs, crawling up into her throat, devouring her mercilessly. She was in deep, too deep, how had she even gotten this far? How had she not known? How could she ever explain herself?

She felt frozen, frozen, frozen, her lungs refusing to take breaths, her eyesight refusing to clear. The blank white pages of the test swam in front of her, endless in its nothingness.

She bombed the test.

She heard voices when class ended, Madam Bustier’s, Rose’s, and Adrien’s, but it was Alya who took her shaking hand and guided her out. Her words cut like glass through the white noise, saying something about the nurse’s office, when Marinette finally had the capability to speak.

“Not the nurse,” she gasped out, forcing her mind to focus on the world around her. She put a hand on the hallway wall to stop them. “I need – I need –“

“What is it?” Alya asked urgently. “What can I do?”

Marinette swallowed, doubling over to heave in deep breaths. She looked up, the hallway spinning slightly around her. “Alya,” she said hoarsely. “I think I’m dating Chat Noir.”

Alya stared at her for a moment, eyes wide. “Oh, Marinette,” she said, pulling her into a hug. Marinette rested her head on her shoulder gratefully, wondering when the tears had escaped onto her cheeks. “That’s what this is about?”

“What do you mean?” Marinette asked, her voice muffled.

“Girl,” Alya said, as gently as possible. “I already knew.”

Marinette pulled back, shocked. “You knew?”

Alya pushed a strand of hair off her damp cheek. “Of course I did. I run the Ladyblog. People have been sending me pictures of the two of you on dates for weeks.”

“They weren’t dates,” Marinette sputtered. She felt the sharp knot of anxiety loosening a bit, as she realized her best friend could help her. “He’s never asked me out on a date! I clearly wouldn’t have said yes if he had! He’s in love with…” Marinette trailed off, hitting another mental block.

Alya frowned slightly. “Well how did you end up going on picnic dates and rooftop rendez-vous?”

“I don’t know!” Marinette practically shouted, frustrated. Her voice echoed down the empty hall. “He just showed up one day, out of the blue, and started bringing me places! He said he wanted a lunch buddy!”

“And he’s never held your hand? Never tried to kiss you?” Alya asked.

Marinette’s face burned. “Well – we… I mean, sometimes, but that’s just because we’re friends, and he’s Chat! He’s always been touchier than other people!

Alya’s disbelief broke her reporter façade. “You’ve been kissing him and you thought you were just friends?” she asked incredulously.

“Because we are! I love Adrien, and Chat Noir loves Ladybug, that’s the way it is, and that’s how it will always be!” Marinette said, frustrated tears building in her eyes.

“But why?” Alya pushed. “Why does it have to be that way?”

“I don’t know!” Marinette cried. “I can’t – I can’t deal with it any other way!”

“Oh, Marinette,” Alya said again, pulling her in for another hug. Marinette blinked away tears.

“He’s Chat Noir,” Marinette said miserably. “I can’t date Chat Noir. Ladybug can’t date Chat Noir. He’s just… he’s just a friend.”

“When did this start?” Alya asked softly.

Marinette sighed, resting her weight more heavily on Alya, suddenly exhausted. “It was… the day after Earth Shaker. You know, the akuma with the bombs?” She felt Alya nod. “We talked during that akuma, and the next day he came to thank me before school. Then he started picking me up to have lunch with him.”

“He came to thank you?” Alya asked inquisitively.

“Well, yeah, kind of. He asked if I ‘meant what I said yesterday’. I said yes, then he started talking about how he’s trying to get over Ladybug. Then he ran.”

Alya pulled back slowly, looking at Marinette with wide eyes.

“What?” Marinette asked, concerned. “What is it?”

“Marinette,” she said in a hushed voice. “Earth Shaker was also the day of the repeated Oblivio akuma.”

Realization dawned on Marinette as she stared at Alya. “You think I said something to Chat Noir during the akuma? Something that I can’t remember?” she asked, her voice getting higher in hysteria. Alya just looked at her, her lips pursed in a thin line.

“But… but that can’t be,” Marinette said, her mind working a mile a minute. "Chat Noir knows that Oblivio wipes memories, doesn't he?"

"We don't know that for sure anymore," Alya said gently. "Remember the repeated Dark Cupid? Everyone remembered who they kissed afterwards." Alya shuddered. "I couldn't look at Ms Mandeleiev for weeks."

“No, no, no," Marinette said, putting her fingers on her temples, forcing herself to put the pieces together. "I got hit as Ladybug, right after I trapped the akuma. I woke up as Ladybug. And Chat Noir doesn’t know I’m Ladybug. So how would I say something to him?”

Alya looked at her apologetically. “Actually… you weren’t Ladybug the whole time.”

Marinette’s face drained of colour. “What,” she said slowly. “Do you mean?”

Chapter Text

Alya already had the security tapes on her laptop.

“After I realized your detransformation was caught on camera, I snuck into the security office and took all the footage from that day.”

Marinette stared, so horrified she couldn’t find the words.

“I left a note that said ‘Needed for Shadwmoth-defeating business – Ladybug’, so I doubt they’ll press charges.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Marinette asked, horrified.

“I had it all under control,” Alya said. “I knew you would just worry.”

Stills flashed across Alya’s screen as she clicked through different camera angles. Marinette watched soundless footage of herself getting hit by Oblivio, her lucky charm shattering, her body blasting back into a wall and sliding down, head lolling. Did I pass out?

“We’ll have to cut back and forth between cameras in the hallway, the elevator and the roof,” Alya said. “But we should get a good idea of what happened.”

Marinette gripped the back of Alya’s chair, her knuckles turning white, as Alya clicked play on the footage.

***

Marinette woke, her head pounding, her world spinning. The floor was cool beneath the palm of her hand as she pushed herself up, her legs shaky and weak. A flash of pink darted in the corner of her eye, but when she looked, there was nothing there. She took off her glasses, eyes adjusting to the dim hallways around her.

A persistent banging noise echoed through the hallway, and she turned to see a shelf full of boxes on its side, blocking the door to a conference room. There seemed to be something behind the door, pounding to get out, shaking the door on its hinges and sending boxes toppling from the fallen shelf.

She heard a voice from behind her.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I, uh… I don’t know!”

“There’s no time! Hide!”

“Where? From what?”

The cat boy looked at the conference room, panicked, as the banging got louder and the shelves started to move. She heard what sounded like two voices laughing, and suddenly the boy jumped on her, pushing her into an open elevator. They rolled on the ground as the doors shut, just as she heard the slam and clang of the conference room door opening.

There was a tense silence. Marinette stared up at the boy on top of her, panting slightly as she took him in. He had beautiful, shaggy blonde hair, tan skin, and a freckle on his jawline. His cat eyes were trained on the elevator door, and she wondered if his real eyes were green too. She felt him let out a sigh of relief as the sound of retreating footsteps hit his ears. He seemed tired, really tired, and he winced as he rolled off her.

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked.

“Just fine, Princess,” he replied, standing. “All part of the hero gig.”

He went to the door, clicking the button for the first floor. He cursed when the elevator didn’t move and attempted to pry it open with his hands. When that didn’t work, he reached for the staff on his lower back. He had a really nice back, she thought, watching as the muscles contracted in his shoulders as he pulled on the doors.

“You’re a hero? Like, a superhero?” she asked, focusing on the most confusing aspect first.

“Yeah, what else would you call it?” he asked, distractedly.

“You dress up as a cat and fight crime?” she asked, incredulously.

He paused and looked back at her, a wrinkle of concern forming on his brow. “You must have gotten hit by the akuma. I thought we had gotten everyone out of the building,” he said, frowning thoughtfully.

Marinette stared as he went back to his work of opening the doors, ignoring her question. Does she know him? Does she know herself? Apparently, her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Why doesn’t she know anything else?

“Come on, Ladybug, we need you,” Cat Boy said, putting all his strength into a pull on the doors. He gasped suddenly and held his arm, grimacing.

“You’re hurt,” Marinette said, momentarily forgetting about her internal crisis. A dark scratch slashed across the cat boy’s chest, curling into his upper arm, tearing his suit. The exertion made fresh droplets of blood trail down towards his toned abdomen.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, popping open his staff to look at a little screen.

Marinette pushed herself to her feet, reaching out to touch his shoulder. The scratch started shallow, deepening to an alarming degree at the tail end of it, around his bicep.

“You can’t do anything until we wrap this,” she said firmly.

“We can’t do anything until Ladybug gets here,” he muttered. “And she’s not answering.”

“Then you can sit while I wrap,” Marinette said, taking off her outer white blouse. He watched her as she ripped the fabric into even lengths, eventually sitting down and accepting his fate.

Marinette propped herself on her knees as she carefully patted blood away from the wound with a piece of fabric. “You’ll need to disinfect this as soon as possible,” she ordered. “And you shouldn’t use this arm for the rest of the day, at least.”

“It will heal up when the miraculous ladybugs come around,” Cat Boy said, watching her deft hands at work.

Marinette shifted a glance up at him. “You really don’t make any sense, do you?” she asked.

He grinned. “I guess not, Princess.”

Marinette grinned back, before continuing to wrap the bandage. “Are we dating?” she asked absently.

Cat Boy choked, his cheeks flushing as he looked away. “What? No.”

“Do you want to date me?” Marinette pressed.

He looked back over at her, eyes wide. “Is that a question or a proposition?”

“Whatever you want it to be,” Marinette said, feeling daring. She was in an elevator, with a super hot cat guy. She didn’t know who she was, but she could be whoever she wanted to be. “You’re the one who keeps calling me ‘Princess’.”

“It’s a pet name!” Chat denied, his voice strained and higher than normal.

“Suuure,” she said, jokingly, patting his arm. “Whatever you say, Cat Boy.”

He reached out to touch the side of her head. “Did you bump your head?”

She pushed his hand away. “Nope.”

His eyes widened. “Carbon monoxide poisoning.”

She laughed. “I’m trapped in an elevator with a hot boy, who seems to know me really well, and calls me Princess. Of course I have to wonder if we’re dating.” Plus, she noticed his eyes lingering on her bare arms, his breath stuttering as her fingertips ghosted over the skin of his shoulder.

“Uh, well, we’re not,” Cat Boy said, his cheeks still red.

“Why not?” Marinette asked, curious.

“I’m, uh, in love with someone,” he said. “Or, I was, at least. I’m trying to get over her.”

“Well, if you ever need help getting over your crush,” Marinette said, looking up from tying the bandage. “You know who to call.”

Chat’s eyes scanned her face, his expression almost calculating. “Princess, if we make it out of here alive, and you still mean what you said, I’ll consider it.”

He leaned his head against the wall, sweat gleaming on his brow as he watched her tend his wound. Eventually, his eyes slid shut, his hair sticking to his forehead. Marinette focused on her tying.

“There,” she said. “Ready to fight crime again.”

“Thanks,” Chat said, flexing to make sure it wasn’t too tight. “You’re good at this.”

“I guess I am,” Marinette said. She took her glasses off her head and squinted at them.

“You know, I had these glasses on, but they don’t help my eyesight much,” Marinette said. “Do you think they’re blue-light glasses?”

Chat stared at her. “Are those…” he said quietly. He plucked them out of her hands, turning them over. “That’s how you got in. Ladybug must have given you these.”

“You keep mentioning a ‘ladybug’, as if it’s some kind of saviour. And now I’m wondering if you have carbon monoxide poisoning.”

But Chat wasn’t listening. He held them out to her. “You can teleport us out of here!”

“Woah, what?” Marinette asked. Chat grinned, walking her through the steps. Kalki (the floating, talking miniature horse) was a bit snobby, but they made it out of the elevator alive. Chat walked her over to a closet, telling her to ‘stay here, don’t move, I’ll come get you later’. Marinette shot him what she hoped was a cute, flirty smile before he closed the door on her.

***

“And that’s where I come in,” Alya murmured, fast forwarding through dead footage.

***
Rena Rouge ran into the hallway, looking around frantically. A noise came from inside the closet, and she opened the door, Marinette nearly falling out.

“Woah!” Rena said. “Marinette? Where have you been? What are you doing in there?”

“Arguing with this horse!” Marinette said, frustrated.

“Oh, no,” Rena breathed, realization dawning over her. “Tikki?”

She reached out and grabbed Marinette’s purse, taking out a small, pink stuffed toy with a macaron in its mouth. The stuffed toy screeched when Rena poked it.

“Hey!” the pink thing said.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Rena Rouge said, relieved. “Listen to me, Marinette. We don’t have time. You need to turn into a superhero and defeat the villain out there.”

“Me?” Marinette asked. “But I don’t know how! I could hardly create a portal with the horse powers!”

“You won’t have to do much, I promise,” Rena said. “I don’t have time to explain. Chat Noir will be suspicious of how long you were gone.”

“Cat Boy?” Marinette asked, perking up.

Rena Rouge stared at her. “Yeah, Cat Boy. Just say, ‘Spots on!’”

Marinette combined the horse and the ladybug powers, realizing now that she was the Ladybug that Cat Boy was looking for. She called her Lucky Charm, and followed Fox Lady out onto the rooftop, where Cat Boy was losing the fight against the monster (“The akumatized villain,” Fox Lady corrected). Fox Lady filled her in on the plan while they hid behind a wall, which was quite genius actually.

She played her magic flute to create the illusion of Pegabug, distracting the akuma from Cat Boy and dodging the shots with ease. Fox Lady recreated the Lucky Charm, the teapot falling into Fake Pegabug’s hands.

“Now,” Fox Lady whispered.

The real Pegabug concentrated, and created a portal, holding the teapot at the ready. Rena Rouge portaled the fake Pegabug out of existence, just as real Pegabug jumped through her portal to slam the teapot on the akuma’s hand.

The butterfly fluttered away, and Pegabug repeated the ridiculous saying that Fox Lady told her was necessary to say.

The miraculous ladybugs swept across Paris, wiping Marinette’s memory.

***

Marinette was in a trance. She said hi to her parents, but she didn’t really see them. She did her homework, but she didn’t process the information. She baked batch after batch of croissants in the early hours of the morning, working relentlessly with the dough, but she couldn’t count how many batches she’d made. Her mind was turning around, and around, and around on itself, finally succumbing to the black hole center in the whirlpool of her thoughts.

I had a crush on Chat Noir and I didn’t even know it.

Watching herself without memories was like watching a stranger. How had she let herself become so blind to her own feelings? Did she not allow herself to feel things for Chat Noir because he was her partner? Or was it because she was blinded by her crush on Adrien Agreste?

She had been so adamant that she could never date Chat Noir, could never love him the way he wanted to be loved by her. She swore up and down that he wasn’t her type, that they wouldn’t work together as a couple. And yet, the second she lost her memories, she flirted relentlessly with Chat Noir. She practically begged him to date her. They dated for weeks, and it had been… wonderful.

Maybe you didn’t notice you were dating Chat Noir because you liked dating Chat Noir.

She thought about the days in class when all she did was count down the minutes until lunch period. She thought about packing extra food in the mornings for him, hiding his favourite macarons so they wouldn’t be sold, just so she could see his face light up when she gave them to him. She thought about all the places in the city he had shown her, all his favourite hideouts and secret spots. She thought of his face when he showed up at her trapdoor, desperate for a friend, someone to love and comfort him.

She couldn’t imagine going back.

But she couldn’t be Chat Noir’s girlfriend. As his partner and the guardian of the miraculous, he was the one person in the world who couldn’t find out her identity. Becoming close friends was already a huge risk, one that she had been purposefully ignoring. Not only that, but a relationship with Chat Noir would put a target on her back, and she couldn’t afford extra scrutiny from Shadowmoth. With how public their relationship had already been, Marinette was surprised Shadowmoth hadn’t tried anything sooner.

But how could she explain that to Chat Noir? If she told him she was afraid of Shadowmoth, he would try to reveal his identity to her, to date her in his civilian form. He wouldn’t understand why Marinette cannot know his identity, especially after Ladybug has shared her identity with a civilian.

Tears blurred her vision as she kneaded the dough, her arms going weak, soreness tightening her throat. Tomorrow, she’d have to tell him that she had no memory of the elevator, and that she had no feelings for him. Even if it was the worst lie she’d ever told. She put her head in her arms, a choked sob escaping her throat, wishing she never had to face the morning light.

Chapter Text

The early morning cold hit Chat Noir’s face as he jumped, rooftop to rooftop, towards the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Neither Marinette nor Alya had returned to class the day before, after Marinette’s panic attack on the test. She hadn’t answered his knocks on her trap door that night, either.

Something was going on. He’d known it since the morning before, when he’d seen her pale face, fidgeting hands, and dull eyes that refused to meet his. Those eyes haunted him, all night, and he tossed and turned until he gave up, sitting by the window and willing the sun to rise quicker.

Chat Noir dropped off the roof, walking towards the doorway of the bakery. He was right on time to walk her to school, which was too early for Marinette, but he couldn’t wait any longer to see her.

“Chat Noir!” A voice called from behind him. He turned to see Marinette at the mouth of the alleyway, waving at him. He glanced towards the door of the Dupain-Cheng bakery before jogging towards her.

“Marinette!” he said, putting his hands up to cup her face. Relief crashed over him as she smiled up at him, her blue eyes shining. “Are you okay?”

She laughed slightly, batting away his hands. “I’m fine, Kitty.”

“Did you already start walking to school?” Chat asked, peering down the alleyway she had come from.

“Actually, I… need to talk to you about something,” Marinette said, chewing on her lip, her eyes becoming serious. “Something important.”

“Of course,” Chat said, still worried. “What is it?”

“Not here,” she said softly. She took his hand, leading him deeper down the alleyway. They crossed streets, turning into another alley then another, the air becoming darker as she brought them deeper into the city.

“I can take us to a rooftop if you want privacy,” Chat said, stepping over a mysterious puddle.

“People could see us,” she replied. “We need to be careful.”

“Right,” Chat said, feeling a twinge of guilt. Being discreet was probably a good thing, considering the potential dangers of being publicly associated with him.

“Through here,” she said, opening a side door to a warehouse. Chat glanced around, wondering where she had taken him. She entered the warehouse, and it was only then he noticed she wasn’t wearing her school backpack.

“Marinette, what –” Chat started to ask, stepping through the doorway after her. Suddenly, the door behind him slammed shut, and Marinette, who had turned back to look at him, transformed into a pool of purple and black.

“Marinette!” Chat yelped, lunging forward to grab her, but she was already gone, a light white feather floating to the ground where she had been standing.

“Marinette!” he screamed, his voice breaking as his arms grabbed the empty air. He heard a deep laugh echo through the warehouse, as a metal sheet descended over the door behind him.

“Chat Noir,” he heard a deep voice reverberate through the room. He looked around, allowing his night vision to focus on the figure standing across the warehouse, next to a tall structure. “A pleasure to meet again.”

“Where is she?” Chat Noir asked, vibrant anger lacing through his voice. Shadowmoth laughed again.

“Why, she’s right here.” Shadowmoth said pleasantly. The LED lights came up in the room, flickering in stark white, and he saw the structure next to Shadowmoth in detail.

Marinette was on her hands and knees in a transparent box, her face gleaming in sweat as she panted, as if she had run a marathon. She looked up blearily as the lights flicked on, eyes blinking at Chat through the thick walls.

Chat lunged towards the box, tasting the cataclysm on the tip of his tongue, when Shadowmoth was suddenly in front of him, knocking him to the side with a swift swing of the staff. Chat slid across the floor, scrabbling with his claws for purchase, springing back up.

“Tsk, tsk,” Shadowmoth said, a smile on his lips. “Don’t you want to hear my proposition?”

Chat Noir stared him down, feeling murder course through his veins as he glared at the man who’d made his life hell for years.

“As you can see, Ms Dupain-Cheng is trapped in a military-grade, bulletproof box. It is cemented to the ground, with no way of opening. Unless, of course, you had a cataclysm.” Shadowmoth’s eyes glittered.

“Ms Dupain-Cheng’s box is equipped with pipes to let air through, to ensure she doesn’t suffocate too quickly. However, with a click of a button…” Shadowmoth raised his hand to show a small remote. “… the box will fill with poison gas, killing her in instants.”

A growl escaped Chat Noir, his claws shooting out. Shadowmoth held out a hand to placate him.

“Now, that’s not the solution I want,” Shadowmoth said soothingly. “What I want, is for you to cataclysm the box and set her free. You could also choose to cataclysm the door to escape, in which case I would have no choice but to click the button. You can also attempt to cataclysm me,” he said with a derisive smile. “But assuming you could reach me, the button would be pushed long before I feel the effects.”

“So, I cataclysm the box, and what, you take my miraculous?” Chat asked angrily.

Shadowmoth spread his hands. “You could choose to fight me after you’ve used your cataclysm, but in minutes you will be de-transformed. It would be for the benefit of all if you simply cataclysmed the box and handed over the miraculous willingly.”

“Never,” Chat spat. “We’ll never let you win.”

“And who is this ‘we’ you are referring to?” Shadowmoth asked curiously. “It can’t be Ladybug; she has no idea where you are, and you know better than to try to contact her with that staff of yours, when I have your little girlfriend at my mercy.”

Chat’s lips curled into a snarl. “So, there’s really no choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Chat Noir,” Shadowmoth said wisely. His name on his lips sounded condescending, disgusting. “Surrender your miraculous and save your girlfriend, or leave and allow her to perish for your ridiculous notion of the greater good.”

Chat heard Marinette’s voice, muffled through the box, as she shook her head furiously at him. Desperation fell over him as he realized he was truly alone. Any move he made could result in Marinette’s death. He was paralyzed, physically and mentally, until Marinette was free. He had no choice, and Shadowmoth knew it too.

He walked over to her slowly, taking in her messy bangs, plastered to her forehead, her pale face, exhaustion present in every line of her body.

“What did you do to her?” Chat asked quietly, rage vibrating through his body.

“She wasn’t amenable to akumatization,” Shadowmoth said with disdain. “She wasn’t harmed otherwise.”

Chat Noir felt a surge of pride, and he allowed a small smile to quirk up the side of his mouth as he looked at Marinette. Of course she would never be akumatized. He didn’t know anyone stronger than her.

“And you swear you won’t hurt her once she’s released?”

“I have no use for her after you use your cataclysm,” Shadowmoth said dismissively. “She will not be harmed.”

Marinette had stopped shaking her head, and was simply looking at him, one hand pressed against the thick glass. Her gaze was heavy with meaning, though he couldn’t guess what she was trying to communicate. She gave a little nod, and he whispered for his cataclysm, softer than he’d ever called for it before. Slowly, he brought his hand up, letting it rest parallel to hers, and watched in slow motion as the glass shattered.

Shadowmoth was on him immediately.

“Marinette, hide!” Chat Noir yelled. He couldn’t check to make sure she had gotten to safety, needing to bring his up staff quickly to cross with Shadowmoth’s.

Shadowmoth bared down on him, a vicious grin stretching his lips, his cold eyes ripe with victory. He pushed back, rolling away as Shadowmoth’s staff slammed the ground where he had just been. He jumped to the side, trying to surprise him, when suddenly there was a voice in his head.

“Chat Noir,” he heard the deep voice ring inside his skull. “I am Shadowmoth. You’ve sacrificed everything to rescue your girlfriend; and yet, in doing so, you’ve betrayed the one you truly love. ”

Chat Noir fell to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands, pulling on his hair, trying to bring himself back to reality.

“You’ve been pushed aside for far too long, too weak to do anything but watch as Ladybug enjoys the fruit of her superior powers. But her powers won’t be superior to yours for long.”

Bile rose in Chat’s throat as he tried to resist, feeling his mind hit a block. Something was forcing him to listen, to hear the words spoken to him, even though he knew they were deeply, viciously wrong. He had to help Marinette, make sure she got out safe, and he had to tell Ladybug…

“Your miraculous has brought pain and destruction on everything you touch. You crave the power to save everyone you hold dear. I can give you that power. All you need to do is hand over –”

Shadowmoth’s eyes were lit with hunger as he leaned over a devastated Chat Noir, intent on devouring him. There was a sudden, jarring clang, and the purple light shattered in front of his eyes. Chat Noir collapsed to the ground, taking heaving breaths, his core shaking as he realized how close he’d been to handing over his miraculous. He forced his eyes upward to take in the scene in front of him.

Shadowmoth was on the ground, knocked cold. Ladybug had a knee on the centre of his back, a red and black polka-dotted frying pan hanging limply in one hand. She let the pan clatter to the ground, her eyes dark and determined as she quickly reached around to the lapels of Shadowmoth’s suit, plucking the Miraculous off his shirt.

The air whooshed out of Chat Noir’s lungs. He heard a ringing in his ears as he stared at the man, passed out cold on the floor of the warehouse. Ladybug had barely spared him a glance, quickly engaging in conversation with the traumatized Nooroo and Duusu. She hadn’t recognized the man. But Chat Noir did. Adrien did.

He rose to his feet, staggering over to collapse next to the unmasked villain.

“Father?” he choked out.

His hand reached, as if in a trance, towards his shoulder, pushing it gently, allowing the dim light of the warehouse to hit the harsh lines of Gabriel Agreste’s face.

Chat’s breath was knocked out of him, his stomach in free-fall, unable to comprehend the horrific story unfolding in front of him. He felt a hole tear through the centre of his heart, a tangible ripping of his soul. He shook as the detransformation fell over him, his body succumbing to the shock.

He distantly heard Ladybug gasp. He looked up at her, her expression shocked and horrified filled with sadness.

“Where is she?” he demanded urgently, desperation and pain cracking his voice. “Where is Marinette?”

Ladybug stared for a moment, before shaking herself. “Spots off,” she whispered. Marinette’s de-transformation tingled over her as she fell to her knees next to Adrien, wrapping her arms around him and holding him as sobs wracked his body.

***

Marinette tried to give him space.

They were partners, yes, and maybe something more. But she couldn’t assume he wanted her around when his world came crashing down. He probably wanted space, to understand and to heal.

But he wouldn’t let go of her hand.

She suggested gently that he go home while she deal with the police, but he shook his head into her shoulder. She tried to leave when Nathalie came to get him, but he tightened his grip. She dithered at the gates of his house, waiting for him to step in first, before realizing he wouldn’t.

She packed a bag for him quickly as he meandered around his room, his eyes glassy and unseeing. Finally, they focused on her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “For everything. I can’t believe… I should have known.”

Marinette abandoned her task quickly and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close as he sobbed with renewed vigor into her shoulder. She felt a streak of anger run through her at the thought of what his Father had done to him.

“I would understand if you hate me,” he said thickly.

“Don’t ever apologize,” she said fiercely. “None of this is your fault.”

He held on tightly to her as he got into his car, pulling her in with him. She squeezed his hand when his breathing sped up, letting her thumb stroke softly across his knuckles.

He finally let go at the door of Nino’s house. “I’m sorry I… dragged you along all day. I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Of course,” she said softly, brushing a piece of hair out of his face. His eyes were red and puffy, exhaustion creeping into his features. “Whenever you need me, I’ll be here.

“Can I… come over tomorrow? Would that be okay?” he asked tentatively.

“Absolutely,” Marinette said, injecting warmth into her voice. “Only if you feel up to it.”

Adrien nodded, sniffing, and went in for one last hug. He clutched on to her desperately, and Marinette wished she never had to leave him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered into his ear.

And she did see him, the next day and the day after and the day after.

Sometimes it was Adrien, sometimes it was Chat. Neither of them spoke. They wandered about her room, picking up trinkets, opening her sketchbooks, their eyes red-rimmed, their mind far, far away. Marinette tread carefully, striving for a delicate normalcy. She spoke to him, but not too much. She suggested activities, but none too strenuous. She touched him, comfortingly, wrapping him in hugs and holding his hand, but not too closely. She was his friend, his partner, whatever he needed her to be.

Often, he just wanted to lay in her room, on her bed or on her floor or in her arms, while she drew, or read, or sewed. He wanted comfort, and silence, both of which she could give to him. It never felt like enough.

“I think the worst part is that I’m relieved,” Adrien said quietly. Marinette looked over from her desk, startled at the sound of his voice, to where he was lying on the floor, the trinket in his hand long forgotten.

“I always hated my father,” he continued. “But I never knew why. Now I have the perfect excuse.”

Marinette slid out of her chair, padding across the floor. She got on her knees beside him, facing him from above. His eyes were glassy, his arm thrown over his brow, but he focused on her as she came into view.

“That makes me a bad person, doesn’t it?” Adrien asked, his voice cracking. “I’ve just been waiting for the chance to hate my own father.”

“No, of course not,” Marinette said. She tried to keep her voice soft and comforting, despite pain and anger that swelled in her at the sight of Adrien’s misery. “Parents aren’t automatically deserving of love. They need to earn it. Your father neglected you for the sake of his own, selfish goals. It’s okay to hate the man who hurt you so deeply.”

Adrien swallowed. “But I don’t really hate him,” he admitted, his voice thick. “I love him. He’s done the cruelest things imaginable, and I still love him.”

“Adrien,” she said softly. She reached out to touch his cheek. “That’s okay too.”

Adrien nodded, a tear running down his face, as if he didn’t really believe her.

Slowly, he began to speak more, to her, to Nino, to his therapist. Close friends knew their identities, allowing him to unravel all the twisting threads of the tragedy. Adrien even spoke to Nathalie, who had come clean about her role in the whole operation. They bonded over their toxic relationships with his father.

“How did you do it?” Adrien asked quietly. Marinette looked down at him, his head on her lap, staring resolutely at the clouds. She had one hand in his hair, the other propping open her book. “How did you resist akumatization? I always had this notion that I would never be akumatized, that I would throw it off like Nino. But as soon as I heard his voice…” Adrien shook his head. “It was a force so powerful, there was no way I could say no.”

“I had hope,” she reminded him. “I knew he had made a mistake by capturing me without knowing my identity. I knew you would cataclysm the box, and we would beat him, together.”

Adrien nodded, twisting the Graham de Vanily ring on his finger. “That’s another thing that made sense, when his identity was revealed. I could never say no to my father.”

When the police found a casket in the basement, Marinette expected all progress to be lost. She braced herself for the silence again, for the shuttered eyes and the silent tears.

Fortunately, Adrien was relieved his father had a reason for his reign of terror, no matter how fucked up it may be.

“He wasn’t evil for the sake of evil. I mean, he was still awful, but he felt justified. It’s like the puzzle pieces can fit together now,” Chat Noir said quietly to her as they sat on the floor of her balcony.

She nodded. “It gives him humanity.”

“Exactly,” Chat said. “It’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation.”

She shuffled a little closer to him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. She couldn’t imagine the emotional and mental toll this must have on him. She was only feeling a fraction, and she felt like she was living a nightmare.

“You know what?” Chat asked. Marinette looked up at him. “My dad was a dick.”

Marinette cracked a slow smile, the muscles in her face shifting in a way they hadn’t in weeks.

“He didn’t even have to be a villain to be the biggest dick in the world,” Chat said. “He never came to one fencing competition, one spelling bee, one swim meet. Not only was he a failure as a villain, he was a failure as a father.”

“And he was so dramatic,” Chat continued, unable to stop. He lowered his voice. “Chat Noir, I am Shadowmoth. I have the full power of two miraculous, but I can’t beat two sixteen year olds, so I will akumatize a toddler to do it for me.”

Marinette giggled. “I have all the money in the world, and yet I will not pay for a therapist.”

“Akumatizing a man who loves pigeons will totally work the 72nd time.”

“I have once again been foiled by the power of love and friendship.”

“I am a fashion designer who only wears one outfit.”

Marinette laughed at that. “He wore an ascot tie every day, and claimed to know fashion.”

The conversations shifted over time, revolving around school, classmates, homework. Adrien’s family was brought up occasionally, but not with the same weight it had been given. Sometimes Chat Noir showed up on Marinette’s balcony, a pained expression on his face, and she hugged him and spoke gently to him until the anger and frustration and self-hatred and disappointment dissipated from his body, leaving behind a bone-tired teenage boy, practically falling asleep in her arms.

When she looked at her bone-tired teenage boy, the bags under his eyes and the tears drying on his cheeks, she knew she would do anything for him. Her revelations about their relationship were so trivial now, so irrelevant. For as long as he chose her, she would be there, however he needed her. She wasn’t naturally a patient, selfless, empathetic person, but she would be all of it for him.

It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do. And he had done it for her, effortlessly, for years, without a scrap in return.

Chapter Text

There was no silence at Nino’s.

No tapping of heeled shoes on the cold marble floor. No statues, portraits, sculptures, or stain glass murals. No rooms that can’t be lived in, no objects that can’t be touched, no secrets that can’t be whispered.
Instead, there were plastic cups, saggy couches and creaky floorboards. Sunlight filtered through windows and illuminated the dust on the bookshelf, warming the apartment to immeasurable heights. The kitchen table was covered in dishes and homework; the bathroom ran out of toilet paper; the room he shared smelled faintly of mildew.

Adrien loved it.

He was proud of how well he adjusted to his new living arrangements, circumstances aside. He did the dishes, made the bed, sorted the laundry, cleaned the toilet, and soon he could do it all without Nino’s supervision. Mrs. Lahiffe still gave him worried looks from time to time, gently patting his cheek and wiping the corner of her eye with her apron. But the love from Nino’s family helped him heal far better than he would at the mansion. His tears were met with hugs; his questions with long conversations; his restless nights with mugs of hot chocolate and TV. He could feel the hard exterior of his soul cracking under the weight of their concern and compassion, allowing his true emotions to slip through freely for the first time in his life.

He still visited the mansion a few times a week. Nathalie was helping him with plans for renovation and redecoration. Shadowmoth had taken so much from the people of Paris, it only seemed fair Adrien give back. He informed his father over the phone of his plans to transform the mansion into a community centre, complete with resources for housing, employment and finances, complementary meals from the kitchens, free designer clothes and an after-school centre. A safe haven for the people of Paris, in Shadowmoth’s own home. Gabriel hadn’t dared to refuse.

Adrien kept a bit for himself, planning on renting a flat once he was old enough. But even though he wanted to live independently for a few years, he knew the only place he would truly feel at home was with Marinette.

Being with Marinette was like coming up for air after being held underwater. He could show the true extent of his emotions – anger, sadness, guilt, regret, grief– to her, without fear of judgement. He experienced a raw vulnerability unlike any he’d ever felt, and for the first time, he felt loved for who he was, not for who he pretended to be.

It wasn’t always so easy. For the first few weeks, all he did was sleep, or stare, or freeze, cold guilt sinking over him like a weight. Marinette helped him as much as she could, stroking his hair and reassuring him, working him out of his trance. Sometimes it made the guilt worse; that she had to deal with him day after day, while he didn’t have the strength to stop going to her.

But as time went on, the trances became less frequent and less severe. They talked, their stories intertwining, pieces falling into place like a vase that had been shattered and glued back together. She comforted him through moments of deep anguish and powerful sorrow, allowing him to grieve not only his father, but the person he used to be. He would leave feeling better than he’d arrived, as if he’d accomplished something important.

Their deep talks started to be complimented by stories and jokes, by teasing and reminiscing. And it was in Marinette’s room where he experienced moments of pure, endless happiness.

When her eyes sparkled, when she threw her head back to laugh, when she paced the room or yawned widely, he felt nothing else in the world. If he had loved her before, it was nothing compared to the love he felt for her now.

Some days, when the room was too small, too stifling, she would transform with him. They would release their energy the only way they knew how, scaling buildings, racing across the city, falling from the rooftops, allowing themselves to feel insignificant in the vastness of the world.

“Alright, pop quiz,” Ladybug said, dropping next to him. She had found him at the Eiffel tower, elbows leaning on the cold railing, looking up at the stars. “Which constellation is that?”

“Oh, too easy, Bug” Chat said, glancing over at her, playing into her game. “The big dipper.”

“Which is a part of…” she pressed.

“Uh, the big bear.”

“The Great Bear.”

“Tomato, potato.”

“Okay, okay,” Ladybug said. She leaned over the railing with him, the wind whipping her pigtails. She pointed. “That one?”

“Pegasus,” Chat said, squinting at the sky. “He’s an absolute tank.”

Ladybug laughed. “I don’t even know how he can fly.”

“He’s impressive,” Chat commented. “Come on, Bugaboo, step it up.”

“Alright,” she said, accepting the challenge. She stared up at the ever-moving sky. “There,” she said pointing.

“Where?” he asked.

“There.”

“Where?” he asked again, but he wasn’t looking at the stars. Ladybug’s nose sloped against the sky, her face pale and porcelain in the moonlight. Her eyes were dark as the night when she glanced over at him.

“You’re not even looking!” she protested. She scooted closer, putting a hand on his jaw to move it. “There.”

Chat looked for a moment, before resisting the push and looking back at her again, her hand still resting on his jaw.

“Well?” she asked, quietly.

“Leo,” Chat replied.

She patted his cheek gently. “Good job,” she encouraged, before pulling her hand away. Chat chased it, grabbing it before it could fall completely to her side, holding it in his. Ladybug looked down at their hands, intertwined, before looking back up at him.

Chat said nothing, just gripping her hand tighter as she searched his face. He knew she must be looking for answers, for clarity, for some type of indication on the limits of their relationship. She had been very careful with him, especially while he had been too torn up to do anything except gratefully accept all comforts she would offer him. They would talk about it all, soon, but for now Chat just squeezed her hand, trying to convey the endless love and gratitude that welled up within him at the sight of her.

Ladybug gave him a sad little smile, as if she knew he couldn’t communicate adequately with her yet. She didn’t press for answers, didn’t ask any questions. She just shuffled in closer, letting their sides press together as they looked silently out over Paris.

That was another thing he loved: she instinctively knew when he wanted silence. It couldn’t have been easy for her, but she would go quiet, with him, when she knew he needed it most.

Like today. It was a cloudy day on Marinette’s balcony, though it was the warmest spring day they had thus far. They had matching books and matching cups of tea. Their book report was due next week, and Marinette had taken one look at his face and asked gently if he wanted to read together instead of going to the movies, like they had planned. Adrien had accepted quietly. He couldn’t take the stares and the whispers that day.

He watched from his side of the balcony as Marinette reached for her tea, not taking her eyes off her book. She missed, and without looking, patted her hand around before she found the mug, grasping the handle and raising it to her lips. Adrien stifled a laugh, not wanting to upset her concentration.

He felt a drop of rain land on his hand. He looked up at the vast grey sky, and another dropped on his cheek.

“Did you feel that?” he asked.

“What?” Marinette asked absently.

“Raindrops.”

Marinette didn’t reply, looking up at the cloudy sky briefly before looking back down at her book.

“It’s going to rain,” Adrien said.

“It’s not,” Marinette replied, flipping a page.

“I felt raindrops.”

“It was from the gutters on the roof.”

They both looked up as a great, rumbling sound rolled across the Paris sky. Adrien slanted a glance at her, Chat’s gleam in his eye.

“That was a big truck going over railway tracks,” Marinette said.

“That’s not what it sounded like,” Adrien said, pushing himself to his feet.

“They’re very similar sounds,” Marinette offered. “It’s easy to get them confused.”

Adrien looked at her steadily. “Your denial won’t stop the rain from coming.”

Thunder boomed. A drop of water fell on her page, smearing the ink.

“See?” Adrien said. He reached out his hand. She hesitated only a moment, before letting herself be pulled up, her book falling limp by her side. She swallowed, her face very close to his, as he didn’t let go of her hand. They stood for a moment, bodies aligned, each searching the other’s eyes for answers.

“We should get an umbrella,” Marinette whispered, uncertainly.

“We don’t need one,” Adrien said quietly back.

He cupped her face, searching her eyes again before leaning in and kissing her, softly, gently, tentatively. Thunder boomed, and a downpour started.

“Is this okay?” Adrien asked, pulling back slightly, practically shouting over the rain.

Marinette nodded desperately, her hand sliding to the back of his neck to pull him back in. Her book thumped to the ground on the balcony as she brought her other hand up to his chest. His hands went to her waist, warm fingers pressing in where her soaked shirt stuck to her skin.

The kiss was monumental. They both knew it as they broke apart, laughing at each other in the rain. It was a new dawn, a rebirth, an integral tenet to the story of their lives. They had done it, and they had each other. They could build their lives up from there.

But not quite yet.

“Adrien!” Marinette shouted over the rain. “I have something to tell you.”

Adrien pushed Marinette’s bangs off her face, unconcerned by her worried tone. “Anything, Bug.”

Marinette flushed at the nickname, before steeling herself for the truth. “I didn’t know I was dating Chat Noir.”

Adrien’s hand froze, resting on her cheek. “What?” he asked, incredulously.

“I don’t remember the elevator,” she said, almost desperately. “I just… thought Chat Noir was a really good friend.”

Adrien opened his mouth, horrified, but Marinette quickly interrupted him. “Don’t worry, I liked everything we did together, especially the – the kissing, and I think I knew we were dating, deep down, but I couldn’t accept that I was developing feelings for Chat Noir, because I was the guardian and your partner and… and…” She swallowed, steeling herself. “And in love with Adrien Agreste.”

Adrien stared at her a moment longer, before a slow, wide smile broke out across his face. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, in awe.

Marinette nodded, her ponytails bobbing, rain streaking down her face like tears. “Both of you,” she clarified loudly, over the pounding rain. “All of you.”

Adrien’s eyes softened, adoration encompassing his features as stepped even closer to her. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he said softly. Thunder boomed. “I will always be yours. All of me. I will love you forever, and forever after that.”

Her dark blue eyes clashed with the grey sky behind them as she stared up at him. Adrien felt his cold ring against her warm face, saw her lick her lips to taste the fresh spring rain, and this wasn’t how he had imagined their relationship going a few months prior, but it was better than anything he could have dreamed. Their trials hadn’t weakened them in the slightest; they were stronger than they had ever been, and their capacity to love was only deepened by the hardships they’d endured. Shadowmoth had tried to drown out love with hate, and it had only allowed them to be love even more fiercely.

He leaned down to kiss her again, attempting to communicate the feelings overflowing in his heart. Marinette’s hands bunched in his shirt, pulling him closer, never letting go.

***

Marinette woke, invigorated. She hopped out of bed, dressing quickly and rushing downstairs. She kissed her mother on the cheek, who was already feeding the kwamis, and gratefully accepted breakfast from her father, who included red and green macarons with her lunch.

“For your lunch today,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Let me know what Adrien thinks of my new recipe.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it Papa, he always does,” Marinette said, smiling through her bite of croissant. She shouldered her bag and waved goodbye, rushing to school. She wasn’t late today, but if she got there early, she could talk to Adrien for a few minutes before class.

She looked up at the clear, blue sky, smiling as the sun beat down on her face. Birds announced the coming of spring as she came up to the school building, sparing a glance for the grey alleyway she had been pulled into too many times. She walked up the front steps of the school, waving at Alya and Nino as she approached.

“Woah!” Alya exclaimed. “Is that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, early for class?”

“I had a good sleep,” Marinette said, feigning nonchalance, unable to hold in her grin.

“Good for you girl!” Alya said. “Nino and I are going to Café Monet for lunch today, you in?”

“Sorry, I can’t,” Marinette said happily. “Adrien and I have a date.”

“Ooooh,” Alya said, suddenly interested. “A date date, or a friend date?”

“A date date,” Marinette said firmly. “We’re going to get André’s ice cream.”

“You’re going on a date with your best guy friend?” Nino asked.

“I’m going on a date date with my boyfriend,” Marinette stressed.

“I don’t know,” Nino said doubtfully. “That sounds pretty platonic to me, dude.”

“He’s right,” Alya said, a twinkle in her eye. “Going out on a lunch date to the Sweetheart’s Ice Cream maker sounds like something really, really good friends would do.”

Marinette scrunched her nose at them, picking up on their game. “Well, Adrien is my boyfriend, and it’s going to be romantic, so there.”

“People are romantic with their boyfriends all the time, it doesn’t mean anything,” Alya said, holding in giggles.

“I always kiss my homies full on the lips,” Nino said. “As bros, obviously.”

“Adrien proposed to me, do you think he wants to be best buds forever?” Alya asked, her eyes wide.

“You may now platonically kiss your bride.”

“They have three kids, as comrades.”

“Pals grow old together all the time.”

“What’s this about three kids?” Adrien asked, having somehow snuck up on Marinette, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “I thought we were going to start with a hamster?”

“They’re making fun of me!” Marinette complained, leaning back into the circle of his arms.

“We’re just so happy that you are such good friends, who kiss and date and raise hamsters together, and nothing will ever change that,” Alya said, a twinkle in her eye.

Marinette looked up, feeling Adrien’s eyes on her. They had a mischievous glint in them. “You wanna show them what good friends we are?” he whispered.

Marinette smiled, going up on her tip toes to meet his lips. She heard Alya and Nino groan, but only faintly, as she was reaching up to sink her hand in the fine hairs at the base of his neck, still damp from morning swim practice, breathing him in for the first time that day.

“We get it, you win,” Alya said, laughing.

“It’s too early in the morning for this!” Nino protested.

They broke apart, her hand still in his hair, his arms steady around her waist. They grinned at each other, indescribably happy.

“You guys are so soppy,” Alya said.

Marinette turned to look at her. “We’ve put up with the two of you for years,” she reminded her. “It’s our turn.”

“Well, I’ve put up with your massive crush on Adrien Agreste since his first day of school, so I think I deserve a break!” Alya shot back.

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, hand falling in shock. She felt Adrien laugh against her back.

“Massive, you say?” Marinette heard him say as she shot daggers at Alya with her eyes.

“I’m sure you’ve seen the posters in her room by now,” Alya said. “By the way, she made you a blue cashmere sweater for your birthday five years from now. It’s two sizes up to make sure it fits.”

“Alya!” Marinette exclaimed, betrayed. Alya just laughed and blew her a kiss as she turned to walk to class with Nino.

Marinette lunged at her, ready to make her pay, but Adrien’s arms caught her.

“Woah, Bug,” he said, laughing. “No murder before first bell.”

“I think we can make an exception,” Marinette said, still glaring at Alya’s retreating back.

“I think we’re past the point of knowing about our crushes on each other,” Adrien said, spinning her around and grinning down at her. Marinette was momentarily distracted from her murder campaign by his charming smile and floppy hair.

She paused, her mind catching up with his words. “You have a crush on me?” she asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

“Yes. I’m in love with you,” Adrien emphasized.

“Oh,” she said. “I guess that’s fine then.”

Adrien shook his head, as if he couldn’t figure out what went on in her mind. “Let’s go to class. I’ll sit on your lap, and we’ll drive Alya crazy.”

“Ooooh, that’s good,” Marinette said, brightening. “Can I feed you macarons?”

“That depends,” Adrien said. “Did you bake them yourself?”

Marinette swatted at him. “No. Papa did.”

“Well then lead the way,” Adrien said.

She took his hand, giddy at the fact that she could do that publicly now. She looked up to see him smiling down at her, his damp hair pushed out of his face. He leaned down and kissed her gently, before she led them up the steps into the school.