Work Text:
Zoé had lived in big cities all her life, but other city people’s fierce determination to avoid seeing anything annoying or unpleasant never failed to impress her. She sat on the steps by the fountain across from the concert hall, tucked her knees up to her chest, and cried. For the most part, passers by navigated around her without sparing her so much as a glance. This might have been one of Paris’s most heavily trafficked plazas, but Zoé had never felt more alone in her life.
A shifty-looking man noticed the violin case next to Zoé and started towards it, but one teary-eyed glare made him back off. Zoé wiped at her face with the back of her hand, wishing she’d thought to bring tissues or a handkerchief to the audition. Alone, ignored, and covered in snot. What a day.
A terrified murmur from the crowd around her pulled Zoé out of her dismal thoughts. Only two things made a Parisian crowd clump together like that, and there were no politicians in sight to throw bricks at. A black and purple butterfly was making a beeline for Zoé’s violin case.
“No,” Zoé whispered. She tried to remember one of Ms. Bustier’s breathing exercises, but her rising panic made it impossible. “I won’t! I don’t want to!”
The crowd backed away, leaving a wide-open circle around Zoé. She swallowed hard.
“I’m not that upset,” she said, holding up her hands in a futile gesture of supplication. The swirl of misery in her stomach told Zoé just how much of a lie that was. She had been practicing for her audition for months, after all. One tiny stroke of bad luck had burned all her dreams to ashes. The butterfly flapped its way closer.
Zoé took a step backward, keeping her eyes locked on the akuma. Before she could take another, her high heel caught in a crack in the pavement and her ankle twisted. Zoé dropped to her hands and knees, hissing in pain. Something had popped in her right knee.
With sharp, fresh pain throbbing in her leg, it was impossible for Zoé to focus on warding off the akuma. She closed her eyes, hoping she wouldn’t do too many terrible things before Ladybug stopped her.
“Bye bye, little butterfly,” said a familiar voice.
Zoé’s eyes snapped open as scattered cheers erupted from her utterly unhelpful audience. Ladybug stood between Zoé and the place where the akuma had been. She opened her yo-yo, releasing a white butterfly into the clear, blue sky.
“Zoé!” Ladybug dropped to her knees. Seeming to remember the crowd, she coughed and added, “Are you all right, citizen?”
“No,” Zoé admitted, feeling incredibly silly. “I think I sprained my knee or something.”
Ladybug gestured for the crowd to move on. “I’ll take care of her.” She returned her attention to Zoé. “What happened? Were you crying?”
Zoé felt her cheeks redden. “I, um…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I was supposed to audition for the orchestra today. They’re very strict about sticking to your assigned time slot, though, and there was traffic on the way here. I was five minutes late.”
Ladybug frowned. “They didn’t even listen to you play?”
Zoé shook her head. Now that her terror had passed and the pain in her knee was subsiding to a dull ache, Ladybug’s sympathy was enough to bring tears to her eyes all over again.
“That isn’t fair.” Ladybug put a gentle hand on Zoé’s arm. “The conductor owes me a favor. I saved his daughter from a llama stampede once—long story. I’ll see what I can do, okay? You’re so talented, um, citizen. If he actually hears you, I know you’ll get in!”
Zoé grinned, even as part of her wondered if Ladybug had ever listened to her play. Had she seen the person Ladybug was when she wasn’t Ladybug? Had she met her without the mask? Her cheeks grew hot again.
“In the meantime, you should get someone to look at your knee,” Ladybug was saying. “May I carry you to a hospital?”
Zoé’s brain short-circuited slightly at the thought of Ladybug touching her. “Um, yeah. I mean, no. I mean, my stepfather keeps a doctor on call. Could you take me to the hotel?”
“Of course.”
Ladybug scooped up Zoé and the violin case as if they weighed nothing at all. She was so gentle that Zoé’s knee barely twinged as they swung across the city.
“I’m proud of you,” said Ladybug over the rushing wind. “Not everyone could hold off an akuma after a disappointment like that. You’re very strong.”
“So are you,” said Zoé without thinking. She was in Ladybug’s arms. What kind of charmed life was she living?
All too soon, they arrived on Zoé’s balcony. Ladybug helped her through the sliding glass door and into bed. There, she fussed with the blankets and pillows, trying to make Zoé’s leg as comfortable as possible.
Zoé texted her stepfather, explaining the situation in terms as vague as she thought she could get away with. She didn’t like it when he worried. “The doctor should be here soon.”
Ladybug’s smile wavered. “Good,” she said quickly. “I’ll just… I’ll just be going, then.”
Something fluttered in Zoé’s chest. Ladybug didn’t want to leave. What did that mean? “Wait.” She fumbled for her violin. “Could I play my audition piece for you? I’ve never performed it for an audience, so it’d be good practice.”
Ladybug’s grin was like the first flower of spring. Zoé was lost, utterly lost. “I would love to hear you play,” said Ladybug, making herself comfortable on the chest at the foot of Zoé’s bed.
Zoé took a deep breath, propped herself up against her pillows, raised the violin, and let herself get lost in the ebb and flow of the music. She had played the piece hundreds of times, but it had never soared before. Even the tricky build in the middle came out perfectly. As the last notes died away, Zoé risked a look at Ladybug.
Ladybug seemed utterly rapt. Her cheeks were bright pink, and her eyes were shining. Zoé was shining too.
“I have to talk to the conductor,” said Ladybug as Zoé put her violin away. “If you can play like that, you can do anything.”
Zoé thought she agreed, and it made her braver than she’d ever been. Ladybug thought she was strong. Leaning forward, she took Ladybug’s hands in hers. “Anything?” Zoé asked softly.
“Anything,” said Ladybug. Her gaze lingered on Zoé’s lips.
Zoé traced Ladybug’s jaw with her hand, making the superhero shiver. “In that case,” she said, “I know what I want to do next.”
Ladybug’s lips were even softer than Zoé had imagined. She tasted like cherry lip balm. And when Zoé kissed her, the rest of the world seemed to settle into perfect harmony.