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Talk of dating had started as a joke.
Ladybug and Chat Noir were obviously not together, Adrien had said, so what better way to protect their identities than have their civilian personas date each other? Marinette laughed at the idea, and then took him up on it.
That was two weeks ago. Two glorious weeks. Two amazing, torturous, exhilarating weeks. Filled with timid handholding and awkward smiles and even a few kisses, for show.
Well, on Marinette's part it was for show. It killed him to know that the affection she so easily gifted to him was all fake, but Adrien tried to pour his heart into the little pecks that they shared, as he pretended she felt something for him, too.
Tonight, it was their first public appearance as a couple.
He'd been to the Hotel Le Marois only once before, for a wedding reception. This time it was a formal dinner for Fashion Week. The flower arrangements were towering yellows and blues, the outfits were stunning, and Marinette was vibrating with excitement next to him and outshining them all in a dress of her own design. She'd never looked more radiant or more kissable.
Dinner started out great. Marinette was seated to his right, and a teenage model friend of his, Lili, on his left. The three of them chatted through the main course, but during dessert, Lili reached forward and grabbed his hand. Marinette's laughter cut off mid-giggle.
"You okay?" he asked, turning toward her.
Marinette sipped her drink. Lili slid her hand away. Neither of them would look at him. What had he missed?
"Well." Lili stood up abruptly, her fruit cup only half eaten. "I see another friend I need to catch up with. It's been nice talking with you, Adrien."
He turned to watch as she walked away. "What was that about?" he asked Marinette.
She only blushed and shook her head.
***
After dinner, Adrien was a good little gentleman and pulled Marinette's seat out for her as she stood. "Ready to schmooze with a bunch of socialites?"
Marinette latched onto his arm, like she wanted to keep him close. (He could pretend.) "As long as we don't run into Lili again."
"What?" he asked. "What's wrong with her?" She was one of the models he enjoyed working with the most.
She only shrugged one slender (fashionably bare) shoulder. "I don't want to talk to her again. That's all."
"But–"
She cut him off with a glare.
"Okay." He raised his hands in surrender. "I won't make you talk to her again."
They spent the next half hour of the night flitting from one corner of the room to the other. Adrien would get into the rhythm of the conversation, and then someone would smile at him, or touch his arm, or laugh at something he said, and Marinette would pull him away shortly after. It was almost as if…
He shook his head to clear the thought. They were now standing at one side of the room all by themselves, partially hidden by a towering floral arrangement sitting above the equally towering but empty fireplace. He didn't think Marinette was appreciating the decorations though. She seemed to be glaring tiny daggers at anyone who caught her attention. (Though she might have been studying the designs. Her serious face sometimes looked mean. The death grip she had on his arm suggested the first option, though.)
"My Lady," he started. He said it in a joking tone. There was no way she really was... But he wished. And he wanted. "You feeling a little jealous tonight, hm?" She would probably roll her eyes, but she might smile at him, and he could pretend.
Marinette turned her face away, lips pressed in a thin line. Silent.
That- that almost sounded like an admission. Adrien found himself breathing very fast.
"Marinette?"
She turned back just enough for him to see the edge of her bright red cheek. "W-well, you're my date, aren't you? Not theirs?" Her grip on his arm tightened as she continued to ramble. "Maybe I don't want to share your attention. That's all! I thought we were going to hang out together tonight, you know, like hanging out. That's all." She turned her face to the floor at their feet instead and whispered, "That's all."
Adrien stopped pretending. He started hoping.
"Marinette, can I kiss you?"
She tilted her head in confusion. "We're dating," she said. "I told you you didn't need to ask every time."
"No, I mean—"
He moved in front of her so he could block out the distractions of the room and all the curious eyes, and then leaned toward her. Their faces were so close.
"Can I kiss you for real?"